The Charred Remains

by raven612

Four months after Sherlock's death, John is brutally attacked on his way home from work. He wakes a week later, no memory of the past few years, but a shoe box full of letters promises to explain everything. He just wishes he could remember the life his letters tell him about, and most of all he wishes he could remember how he came to be married to a man.

2. Strangers When We Met

The Charred Remains

Chapter 2: Strangers When We Met

A/N: Here you are my lovelies! Chapter 2. Can I just also say thank you all so much for liking the story, despite the little turn up at the end! I do hope you all stick around, I can promise that it will be worth it! Also, as of now, I have no real set schedule of updating, but you can expect a chapter at least once a week, or as quick as my beta and I can get through them. I do have chapter three done, but I have to send it to the lovely MeddlingAdler! She is amazing and this story will be amazing with her help! Again, thanks so much for the reviews, I loved them, and they help persuade me to update faster!

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My Dearest John,

I know this is all going to come as a shock to you, so I figure where better to start than right at the beginning. The letters will be quite chronological as I am in possession of an eidetic memory.

I'll begin by telling you about myself. You know from the first letter that my name is James Moriarty. I go by Jim, but my associates call me Moriarty. I am, to be quite frank, a genius. I thrive on studying anything I can get my hands on. There is no subject I will turn down, but if there is information I deem useless, I simply wipe it from my mind. I have an affinity for puzzles, creating and solving them.

When we met I was working in the IT department at St. Bart's. I have since moved on from that job, preferring to now work out of the house. I am wealthy. I live a comfortably luxurious life. I come from Ireland, so you'll have to forgive my accent when we do meet again at the end of these letters. My mother is still alive and well in Ireland. We often visit her around the holidays. She's quite fond of you.

Now that you have an idea of who I am, let me start the story of how there came to be an us.

We were introduced to one another by Mike Stamford. I'm sure you remember him since he's been a part of your life for quite a few years. He heard we were both looking for a flatmate. I'd like to say it was some sort of magic when we met, but that's not true. Magic doesn't exist. It was simple human chemistry between two bodies. I know you don't understand now, but you will.

You weren't too keen on the idea of moving in together so quickly, but you were eager to get out of the tiny flat you were renting. You agreed to a trial run of sorts with me. You came to my flat the next day. When you saw where I lived, it took a lot of convincing to make you stay for the agreed upon week, but you gave in. When I asked what made you stay, you said it was because you saw the loneliness you felt mirrored in my eyes. I suppose you felt sorry for me, but the way you stated it sounded much more polite.

The reason you refused to stay with me was because, bluntly, my flat was exquisite. A penthouse to be exact, completely decorated to my tastes. You said you felt like you were in a museum. It took you quite some time to finally feel comfortable in the flat, but by the time you did, we had already decided to move somewhere a bit more comfortable for the both of us.

That first day together I was silent. You told me it made you uncomfortable, but I couldn't help it. I already told you I'm a genius and I thrive off of puzzles, and you were quite the puzzle that I needed to observe in order to understand and solve. That's what I was doing that first day, I was simply observing and cataloging information about you.

You tried to fill the silence with anything. Crap telly topics, news topics, technology topics, topics about topics, anything John, you literally tried to talk about anything. It was…kind of cute. I do hate the line 'love at first sight,' because it's proven to be false, but I was infatuated at first sight.

From your slightly unkempt, sun kissed blonde hair to your scuffed and outdated trainers, to your awful jumpers and perfect tea, I was taken. I wish I could say the same for you, but unlike me, you liked the opposite sex quite a lot, so I was forced to bury my feelings for quite some time.

Back to our first week together, aside from the slightly uncomfortable first day, we did get along pretty well. The second day I opened up a little. We are both early risers, though you beat me to it that first morning. I came out of my room to find you sitting at the kitchen table wearing a white tee shirt with navy sleeping trousers. You had one leg tucked up under the other as you read the morning paper. You were already nursing your own cuppa, but I spied another mug placed at the table across from you.

I couldn't help the small smile at seeing it. I approached and sat down across from you. I gingerly sipped the tea. I can be very particular about it since I'm not too fond of the drink, but the cuppa you made for me was perfection. You looked up over the paper, smiling a bit shyly as you wished me a good morning.

I couldn't help but smile back with my reply.

It took a lot to not have you laid across the table that morning.

I sat back in my chair and asked for the financial section of the paper. You obliged without saying a word. I used the paper to disguise the fact I was watching you again. You have a tendency to read slowly, later I learned it's because you are a careful reader. Another endearing trait you have. You read carefully because you are genuinely interested in day to day news, but you tend to skip over the war stories.

Later, when we were more comfortable with one another I asked you about those days. I'll never forget the darkness that crossed your face. You tried to fight it because you are ever the soldier, but I saw it and I immediately wished I could have known you back then so that I could have helped. I remember telling you that some months later when a nightmare woke you. You turned to me in the dark of our room, that soft smile on your lips, but a lingering sadness and pain in your eyes as you spoke. You said:

"I wish I'd known you back then too, I think we could have both made each other happy."

Before you, I never thought I could be happy with anyone, but then you turned my world upside down, and since then I've never wanted to put it back right side up.

I know I skipped over a bit in this letter, but I can't help it. My writing tends to flow as my memories do, and each time I remember a point of our early life, I'm brought to another memory of us. I promise to try and provide a better look into our first days together in the next letter. I just hope I haven't scared you away with this one.

You should rest now. I know you'll have read this letter more than once. You're still healing. Lay back and begin with the other letters when you're feeling better. I'll be seeing you soon enough.

Love Always,
JM.