Letters To Sherlock

by jessisnotdeadyet

These are the letters that John wrote to Sherlock during the time when he was 'dead'. He left the letters on his grave every week on a Wednesday, starting from one month after the Fall. Includes Johnlock, and these letters lead on to a fanfiction in story form rather than letters which I am currently working on. Mystrade included in such fanfiction. Rated M for later chapters.

6. 21 03 2012

Dear Sherlock,

Do you remember that time when you and I were sat in that restaurant by Northumberland Street, and your friend who owned the restaurant kept calling me your date? Well, of course you remember. You never forget anything. Except that the Earth goes around the Sun.

Well, my point is... There is no point. I'm just remembering our time together, and I'm starting at the beginning.

But that night was a big turning point for me, because that was the night that you cured my limp. In the heat of the moment you made me forget that it had ever existed, and then we ran across rooftops and down alleyways, and I didn't even notice. We got home and your friend came and dropped my cane off. I couldn't believe it. I was so overjoyed that I could say no words to express how grateful I was. That, I think, was the moment when I realized that you were someone I couldn't live without. I owe you so much, Sherlock. I've said it before but I have to say it again, because it's true.

I had freedom, because of you. I had the freedom to walk and run and move without hinderance or constraint. It's a gift greater than any that money could buy. And even though you are gone, and the memories hurt, I would still rather have known you and lost you than never have known you at all. Despite the grief that you have caused me, I will always look back at you as the man that I knew you to be: that charismatic, fantastic, brilliant, human, high-functioning sociopath. And that man will always make me smile.

Your John.