A/N: Since only one person truly understood this, I'm posting an extremely detailed annotation and an explanation of my thoughts on the psychology of the characters as I was writing this. All notes will be in (parentheses). The psychology explanation will be in a following chapter.

The Choice--Annotated version (The speaker is Watson, of course)

The sun is different. I don't know why. But as it beats down upon my neck and highlights the roses before me, somehow there is not as much warmth in the rays. (Something has happened to Watson, making his perception of the world unhappy)

A love affair… (Someone took a person he loved away from him)

I yank a rose from a bush with some trouble. The stem is quite thick, and now jagged and bleeding. The petals are ever so slightly damp, but the leaves not as moist as they should be at this time of year. (He recognizes a permanent change in his life)

Losing the passion… (His relationship with the person changed)

I cannot name the type of rose, but its petals are many and compacted together, all fighting for their own glimpse of light. They are pale pink. But the color is not very saturated. (Every memory tries to assert itself, but they are tainted and no longer bring him joy)

Return is impossible… (The relationship can't be the same)

I press the heavy bloom to my lips, feeling the cool velvet of it as I move it back and forth across my mouth. But after a moment, it is my dry lips that I feel more than the softness of the flower. (He tries to recall the happy feelings, but they are gone)

And then love is dead. (Metaphor for the lost person)

But not by choice. It was stolen by another. Moriarty stole Holmes from Watson Until avarice and the desire to possess the other became the dominating emotion, and indeed both were consumed by it. (Holmes's pursuit of Moriarty and vice versa destroyed them both; it was that which changed the friendship)

And now they are dead. (I think that's pretty clear)

She comes out to greet me, a sad smile on her face. She moves like an angel, gliding over the path to my side as if she were treading upon a cloud. (Literally, Mary comes outside to see Watson. He perceives her as perfect. A perfect example of a true bond of love)

What of my love? (He's asking why Holmes essentially forsook their friendship, for the sake of pursuring Moriarty)

Less than one month…it has been exactly twenty days, and still it feels like yesterday. She knows of course. I see it in her eyes. (Twenty days since Reichenbach. Mary knows he is still suffering the loss)

Stolen from me… (He blames Moriarty for Holmes's loss)

Her warm hands cover my cold ones as her sad blue eyes look up at me. The rose is between us, like a wall keeping out all trespassers. But she is no longer one of them. (He had not really explained to her the nature of his and Holmes's friendship and how powerfully he felt it; no one understood and he didn't feel as if he could explain. Now he wants her to know)

Never realized… (Holmes never quite felt the same for him)

I slowly lower the rose to my side, her hands leaving mine as I move. I feel a sudden rush, like part of my spirit left me as her hands did. Just as when he did. (He lost something of himself when Holmes died, and it is hard for him to reveal to her just how much he cared for Holmes, since he was in essence a rival for her love. Though she never felt that way, Watson thought so. It was a contradiction within him)

But did know of death… (Holmes had resigned himself to it)

I fall into her embrace and let flow the tears. I had not cried, even when I had every opportunity, every excuse. But it meant nothing if no one understood. (That's pretty clear. Again, Watson felt like no one could understand the depth of their friendship)

How can one understand darkness but not light? (Referring to Holmes—he never understood the soft emotions (or didn't show it at least, if he did) but seemed to pursue the dark ones )

The tempterhad been cruel, drawing the prey as a spider to the web. The seducing darkness entwining through the soul and drawing them further and further away to a place I could not reach. (Holmes's desire to apprehend Moriarty took him away from Watson on an emotional level as much as a physical one and Watson felt he couldn't do anything about it)

I saw the evil fire that last time and knew in my heart it was over, though I couldn't admit it to myself then. I wouldn't. (He saw that Holmes had been consumed by his desire to catch Moriarty and that he couldn't be swayed from it. He knew he had somehow lost his friend, but didn't want to admit it to himself)

How could I have seen fire but not raised the cry? (Berating himself for not trying to bring Holmes out of the obsession)

"John…" she says, and I drop the rose. I swear I can hear it hit the stones, "It will be okay…I promise you." (Coming back to reality, in a shocking way; realizing it's all true)

She cannot promise that. Even now, knowing, she cannot promise that. I'm not sure…if she truly knows. But I can let her in now. No walls any longer. I don't want them. (He's still hesitant to try to explain the depth of the friendship to her. He thinks she understands but isn't certain)

Friday the twenty-fourth… (Day Holmes came to him telling him about Moriarty)

"Mary, I—" my voice breaks. What can I say anyway? There is no way to explain. How can one define love? One can only know from feeling it, and then losing it…how I am feeling. (Insecure about telling her about the depth of the friendship)

Thirty days since I saw the fire… (Referring to the 24th of April, mentioned above, and the present moment)

"It will be okay," she weeps, her own voice breaking as she buries her face into my chest. I can feel her fingers gripping tighter into the clothing on my back. She acts as if… (She loves him so much, and she does finally realize why he cared for Holmes so much, and understands the pain he's going through)

Monday the fourth… (Day Holmes 'died')

I pull away, the flow of my tears halting as I look into her liquid eyes. It's true. She does know. But how? How can she possibly understand? No one ever has. (He is still terribly grieving and can't get his mind wrapped around the idea that anyone could understand the depth of his loss)

Only ten days between… (Ten days between the day Holmes told him about Moriarty and Reichenbach)

"I'm sorry," I hear myself say, "I should have told you." (He is sincere. He worries that he hasn't been as good a husband as he should have been)

"I wouldn't have understood then. I do now." Her words confirm it, as does the sincerity and pain in her eyes. Of Heaven, I know she understands. But of Hell… (She refers to not understanding the depth of Holmes and Watson's friendship. In seeing Watson's grief it makes sense to her now. He refers to heaven as being their life as they've lived it, and hell his struggle in a friendship where he didn't always feel like his feelings were returned)

Three lives were lost then. (Holmes, Moriarty, and himself. Because when you lose someone you love, you lose part of yourself)

I gave to her! (Referring back to the previous line, 'of hell.' He realizes that in not explaining his feelings to her, she was probably always suffering, wondering why he was so distressed)

No, four. (Add Mary to the list)

What have I done? I've done it from the beginning! With the first kiss and every touch, I had been the tempter, the seducer. Luring her to a place she did not understand, but love compelled her to follow. (He has been a good husband, but always his attention was divided between her and Holmes. Mary could do nothing but give him the benefit of the doubt if she was going to trust him. It gave her some anxiety, but she never questioned Watson's love for her. Watson doesn't know that of course. He's grieving and upset and not quite coherent)

Continuing with envy… (Holmes wanted to stop Moriarty and vice versa. Watson wanted Holmes back, Mary wanted Watson back)

Was love that blinding? That we had both fallen into the trap? But no, not just the two of us. For I was a victim as well. The second victim. (Mary, Holmes, and Watson—three victims of deception by omission. Holmes's love was for the game, and it trapped him. He's the first victim. Watson's love for Holmes (platonic; let's make that clear) trapped him. He's the second victim. And Mary the third in not knowing what Watson was feeling, but still believing him blindly)

Desperate to win… (Holmes wanting to win against Moriarty, Watson wanting to win Holmes back, Mary wanting to win Watson back)

The first had been defeated. Dead and lost forever in memory. And I was still being drawn in! I could not let a dead threat defeat me. (Holmes, the first victim. Moriarty defeated him but still Watson can't let go of the situation. Moriarty's evil still looms over his life)

We were all linked, and the first two were broken. Two left, still drawn in by the power of love. But we have the opportunity to sever the link permanently. (It was a chain reaction of destruction, starting with Moriarty and Holmes. But Watson and Mary have a chance to break the chain and survive)

And seeing the truth too late. (Holmes didn't realize he was trapped in the web until he couldn't escape)

The world is dying with me. Just as a rose loses its petals, each day that I go deeper in my own extensions wither. I had not noticed the silence. (He's been wallowing in grief and self recriminations, not noticing how it had been affecting Mary)

But there is nothing left. Even the sun deserts me now, and threatens to take her. To disappear behind the clouds of my despair awaiting conclusion. (He realizes that if he doesn't move on from his brooding about Holmes he'll lose Mary as well)

But I see the truth in time. (He recognizes the trap he's falling into)

"I love you. You and only you, until eternity," I whisper. My words are lost on the breeze. (As he speaks the words, they are to Mary. He may be thinking of Holmes as well. And there may even be a spiritual element there. I'm not entirely certain what he was thinking when he said that)

Do I break? (And here is the choice. Does he continue in his despair and follow the path of Holmes and Moriarty? Consumed by emotion, living with that obsession until it destroys him? Or does he move on with his life, taking pleasure in his wife and the blessings he still has? What do you think?)