Dear Sherlock,
It's the day before your funeral. Which I planned just so you know, I figured you would be angry if Mycroft planned it. Besides I haven't forgiven him yet for betraying you like he did. He's lucky I told him the day and time of the funeral (though knowing him he would have found it out anyway.) The only reason I told him was because he was your brother and that counts for something I guess. Anyway, I'm going to speak at your service. I don't know what I'm going to say yet. You were an amazing man. You could tell so many things about me just with a glance. By the mud on my shoe you could tell which part of London I'd been to. You knew so much about me when we first met. I will not believe that it was fake, that you were a fake. Nothing you could have said would have convinced me of that. You saved my life Sherlock, you'll never know it but you did. There I was wandering around and already tired of a normal civilian life, when you walk in and gave me an adventure. We chased criminals, laughed at crimes scenes and became internet celebrities overnight. Life with you was never boring. You were-are my best friend Sherlock and even though you'd deny it I know you cared. Though you said it many times you were never a sociopath. I can hear you in the back of my mind saying 'where's the evidence?' I have plenty of evidence. Like that time the American's broke in and hurt Mrs. Hudson, how many times did you drop the guy out the window again? Or the time you hurt Molly's feelings and apologized. Actually apologized. Or that time with Moriarty in the pool when I had the bomb strapped to my chest and you practically ripped off my shirt to get it off. Those were the moments, Sherlock, when I could see your heart. It was moments like that that made it worth the wounds and verbal insults. I miss you Sherlock and I can't believe you're gone. Why would you do that? Why would you kill yourself? That's the thought that keeps running through my mind. Why? It's a question that keeps me awake at night and it's one I know I'll probably never get the answer to. That would have driven you insane, not knowing. Maybe it could drive me insane. Anyway I got to go Sherlock. I've got a funeral to plan for, until tomorrow,
Your friend,
John Watson.
AN: There you have it...ah the angst :'( anyway later letters won't all be like this... Please review and let me know what you think...also please let me know if you want me to write up the funeral. Because that will decide how the next chapter is. Thanks for reading and thank you all who have favorited and like this story. Virtual cake for all :)