A/N: It's the weekend finally! I'm hoping to be able to post chapters a bit earlier but we'll see how it goes. Don't kill me if I post late.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything mentioned in this story, promise! Please don't sue me.

"John dear, is everything all right? You've been sitting there all day."

Mrs. Hudson's voice startled him. Hers was the only voice he'd heard that day; he hadn't made a sound since he woke that morning.

"Yeah," He spoke now, voice slightly rough from disuse.

She bustled into the sitting room and examined him with a loving (albeit critical), maternal sort of look. "No." She took a seat across from him, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. "Now John, I know things have been hard these last few months."

Yeah, he thought. That's an understatement right there. Instead, he simply nodded.

"We all miss him," she continued. "And we all wish he was still here." Here Mrs. Hudson had to pause, sniffle a bit, and wipe her eyes. "But he wouldn't want to see you lock yourself away from the world. Sherlock wouldn't dare let you."

For the first time in a long time, John smiled. A genuine smile, one borne of happiness instead of one so fake even he saw through it.

"You're right," he said quietly. "It's just so hard to see the world without him."

She nodded, wisely. "I know it is. You can make the world a better place, though, now he's gone. Create something he'd be proud of, John."

So that evening, after she left for a dose of her "herbal soothers", John sat down to write another letter to a dead man.

Sherlock,

I didn't leave the flat today. In the last few months I haven't left the flat much at all really, but today was...bad. Mrs. Hudson had to come up and give me a pep talk.

She told me that I needed to make you proud. I don't know if I can, but I guess I had better try. I owe it to you.

I never told you this (add it to my list of regrets), but you saved my life, Sherlock. I was a few days and a glass of whiskey away from ending up in that grave. The least I can do is try to keep your memory alive.

Tomorrow I'm going to call Greg and see if he still wants me to help him. He'd ask me, in those first few months, but I could barely function, let alone become a consulting detective overnight. Now, I think I might be ready.

London misses you, mate.

John

A/N: Thank you very much for reading! Please review and...

DFTBA darlings, :)