Sherlock sealed the envelope, carefully running his knuckle along the fold. Shakily, he took the pen and wrote John's name on the front. It wasn't too late to change his mind, he could tear up the letter and forget this had ever happened. It wasn't that easy though.
He pulled the small, black case from his underwear drawer and set it down on the bed. He twisted the door knob cautiously -it was locked.
"Now or never, Sherlock." He said to mo one in particular, steeling himself for what was to come. He sat down on his bed, and unzipped the case. This was it.
Sherlock pulled out a vial and a syringe. He held the vial up to the light, giving it a gentle shake. He plunged the needle tip through the previously unbroken seal, and drew the clear liquid up, and when he was confident he had enough to do the job, he slid it back out.
It felt like coming home. The pain and sorrow washed away as Sherlock flooded his blood with the familiar liquid gold.
Everything was going to be okay.