A/N: I'm running out of titles you guys. I have some for the few days before Christmas, but it's these lead-ups that are so difficult!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing in this story. I mean, I DO own the plot because, you know, it's fan fiction and everything. Please don't sue me!
It was the last day that John had to work before he was off for the holidays. He wasn't sure if he was grateful or not.
On the one hand, it meant no more trying to convince patients with the flu that they weren't dying of something like a brain tumor.
But on the other hand, it meant that he had far too much time on his hands to think about things. By things, he meant Sherlock, his death, Moriarty...the whole shit storm.
He stopped to buy some more lined paper before got home. He knew he'd need it.
Sherlock,
I'm done with work until the 26th. Thank Christ; I thought I was going to go berserk on this teenage girl earlier. She was complaining of some mild flu like symptoms, and seemed to be convinced she was dying of cholera. Orr maybe she said brain tumor, I had too many like her today.
It made me realize how much people take their lives and health for granted. I also realized that I used to be one of those people. Now it disgusts me that I could ever be that careless.
You were like that too. I always told you that you weren't just "transport" for that big brain of yours. I know you believed that, but I am positively certain you were not.
I wish I had told you that, before.
I'm saying it now; you were...absolutely amazing.
I miss you.
John
A/N: THE FEELS Y'ALL. THE FEEEEEEEEELS. Thank you so much for reading! Please review and...
DFTBA darlings, :)