John Watson had once been a happy man. He had been satisfied with his life, grateful for what he had. Those days were over, they would never come back to him again. Now his mind was filled with pain and heartbreak. The thing that caused him so much sorrow, and hurt him so much was a man. That man had once fixed John, he brought him back to life when he was numb. That man had learnt John to live, to feel. That man's name was Sherlock.
To John, Sherlock was the essence of life. Sherlock was filled with a mysterious energy, that showed itself every time he moved. His mind was like a piece of art, beautiful and extraordinary, but impossible to understand for anyone but himself. John never managed to solve that puzzle, and now he would never get the opportunity to do it. No matter how much he regretted all the things he had done, it was all over. There was nothing he could do to bring Sherlock back to life.
The fall is what he had remembered best. That one memory, had burnt itself into John's mind, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget. When he saw Sherlock there, on that roof, ready to jump, to die, his own heart nearly stopped. He remembered Sherlock's voice, it was calm, as he left his note, his personal suicide note, to John. It all felt like a nightmare. John was paralyzed, he couldn't believe what was about to happen. All he wanted in that one moment was to wake up, but unfortunately, it was all real. He could give away everything he had in return of seeing Sherlock once again, but that would never happen.
Sherlock Holmes was never a happy man, not until he met John Watson. There was something special about John, something unique. At the first sight, John looked perfectly normal, ordinary, but he was one of a kind. John made him feel human and alive, for the first time in his life. The way he talked, the way he walked, yes, in fact everything Joh did, seemed like a riddle to Sherlock. No matter how much he tried, Sherlock could never read his mind, though there was nothing he wanted more than that.
From all of the memories he shared with John, the one he remembered the best, was the day he had left him. He remembered the way John's voice was shaking as he left the note, his suicide note. It had to be that way, it was the only option. Though he did it to protect John, it was still one of his greatest regrets. He would never see John again, and that killed him from inside. Living without him for all this time had been like a hell on earth. Maybe it had been better if he really took his life that day? If he did that, he wouldn't have to watch John, the man he loved, ruining himself.
