Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Hound/Meitantei Holmes, canon characters or the original Sherlock Holmes. They are the property of their respective owners.

Notes: Well, I have a new tablet so here is a new story! I was again struck by the Feels Fairy, so I produced this. There are references to previous stories of mine, they will be mentioned in the after notes.

As always, Holmes is Hound.

This contains established slash between Hound and Watson.

I hope you enjoy this!

(Linebreaks still hate me so I will use SHJW.)

SHJW

My dear John, it is a well-established fact that I, Sherlock Hound, was quite a solitary creature. Were you aware it wasn't all personal choice? Someone as amicable as I, you ask? Yes, it is quite so. For while you - and many clients - marvel at my observations and deductions, there were many who considered me quite abnormal because of them.

The first was in my youth, someone close to home. You'd already know it was not my brother, whom you have met and so have witnessed his abilities to be greater than my own. Our parents embraced our prowess, but also cautioned us about using it around others.

"We are not ashamed of you, we just do not wish you to be hurt by those of lesser-understanding than ourselves. Sherlock, please be wary."

That was what Mother had always said to me before we would visit with her family. For years, I had wondered why Mycroft would always avoid interaction with our extended family. I found out why for myself.

I had made a deduction of a rather personal matter about my cousin, who really did not appreciate it being made public knowledge, even if it was to family. Aunt and Uncle glowered at Mother and Father before saying harsh words I would never forget, even from the tender age of six years.

"It was bad enough with Mycroft, now Sherlock too? Are you intentionally raising freaks?"

Though I did not know what it meant at the time I heard it said, the look of pain in Mother's eyes explained enough for me to know they did not speak kindly.

Later that same day, my cousins approached me. They proceeded to speak cruel words that even a boy of six would understand.

"You're so weird, you'll never have friends!"

I am not ashamed to admit that I went to Mother in tears at those words. Between Mycroft being shunned and myself being spoken of unkindly, we never returned to visit Mother's family again.

"It is not your fault, they just don't understand that you two are very intelligent and special."

Mother reassured me of that when I'd questioned if I was to blame for her being estranged from her family. Even though she said it, deep down I always feared she did bear a modicum of resentment towards me for not following the rule.

In school, I again heard the words my cousins had said to me.

"You're so weird, you'll never have friends!"

The teachers were unimpressed with my intelligence. Granted, I could've used more tact when correcting their obvious errors. So it was that I was schooled by a tutor.

After the accident that took Mother and Father, Mycroft was in University and I was sent to a boarding school. I had tried to control myself, but once again, I slipped up.

"You're so weird, you'll never have friends!"

After hearing that enough times in my childhood, I decided there was no point in even trying. So, I followed Mycroft's example and became the aloof, solitary creature you came to know.

I kept to my studies, personal observations, disregarded tact and made my deductions, not caring if I was called an abomination of nature or anything of the sort. Most of all, I convinced myself that I had no need for friends, just so their words would no longer pain me.

Then, I met you. You did not make any harsh judgements towards myself for my prowess. You never used words extended family had, never spoke cruelly, never claimed I would forever be alone.

Instead, you saw to it that I wasn't.

Thank you, my dear John, for making me feel like I was worth something after all.

SHJW

Watson set down the letter before looking up at the detective. He had always suspected there had to have been a good reason for why Hound had kept to himself at most times. His gaze softened in sympathy.

Hound's cheeks darkened and he averted his gaze, clearing his throat before having a puff of his pipe. He had exposed his heart's depths to Watson on many occasions, especially after they had found their friendship ran deeper than they'd first believed. He had wept on occasions, baring his greatest fear to be the loss of the Scottish terrier sitting across from him. But, having bared why he was insecure about losing Watson was past his usual limit.

Watson rose from his seat, crossed the floor and stood before Hound. He placed his left paw on the right side of Hound's muzzle, tenderly stroking it. "I wish I had known you sooner so I could've helped prevent you from feeling like you were of little worth in a more personal manner. They were all blind idiots who failed to see the true beacon that is Sherlock Hound. You are eccentric, but not in a bad way. Your quirks are endearing, just another part of you that I love."

He tilted his head slightly, leaning in to the touch. His ears weren't upright, but not folded back either. He closed his eyes, feeling at peace while Watson resumed his tender ministrations.

"How many of them used you for your intellect, only to speak cruel words behind your back?"

"None. They always made it known without any hesitation."

"You deserved so much better than that, my dear Sherlock..."

"I received that the day we met." He opened his eyes, gazing up at his beloved Watson.

Watson smiled tenderly and leaned down, touching the tip of his nose to Hound's.

Such an action usually served as a precursor to a kiss they'd share, but it would be stalled for the timebeing. "John, I..."

"Sherlock...?"

"Will you ever tire of me?"

Watson pulled back slightly, blinking in confusion before his eyes hardened. "Never. I shall never tire of you or your presence or your amazing, enviable skills! I will admit I had wondered that myself about you, if you'd ever tire of me."

"Never, John!"

"Even if on a case I'd found myself even more of an invalid than I already am."

Hound sighed softly. "I won't let you call yourself an invalid. You have done much during your time as my colleague, more in our personal lives. You have a slight limp and are stiff on certain days, but it never slows you down. As for if anything should result in further injury to yourself, I refuse to let that happen! Especially after..." His eyes glazed over as he recalled the night he came close to losing his beloved Watson forever. He blinked once and returned to the present.

Watson nodded. "I meant that in past-tense, Sherlock. I've seen reason to reassure myself you would never tire of me. Your explanation as to your past only made it clearer."

"I would be a complete fool if I was to give up the one who reminded me that I am more than a calculating machine to be used and tossed away when done with." He pressed his nose to Watson's before finally sharing a true kiss. Hound always poured his affections into it, but that kiss was also filled with gratitude and appreciation for Dr. John H. Watson being in his life.

Watson made sure to add unspoken reassurance that he would always be a part of Hound's life, nothing would change that.

SHJW

After notes: The story I referenced was Hope (the night Hound almost lost Watson) and Hound writing a letter to convey his emotions is derived from Be There (in which he wrote a letter to Watson to convey what he needed to).

Thanks for reading! You don't have to review, though they are appreciated. However, if you do choose to say something, please do not flame. Constructive criticism is welcomed as always.