Chapter 2: Letter to the dessert

The first one arrived just a few days after they had left. Sherlock must have written it very soon afterwards and, with his brother's connections, there was no way this letter would take longer than a week to get to John or let alone get lost. It was safe to say, John Watson was now the soldier who got his mail first.

Dear John,

First things first, yes I want to be your pen pal. You would be my first.

You were right: your letter is the only thing that has kept me sane. Not that I would have jumped out of the plane or something like that but your words were able to calm me down when I was in my new room for the first time alone and a bit afraid of what would happen next. So thank you for that. You do a great job in keeping me safe even when you are not next to me.

It's the first night in my new 'home' and I'm not sure what to feel. I don't know what a home is or what it should feel like. I guess it should feel a bit like Mycroft's hand in my dream or an even better memory. Safe and protected. But honestly: the only time I ever felt somewhat like that was when I was close to you.

I am not saying that Mycroft is bad at being my brother but I think he doesn't know how to feel either. He spent the greater part of his life looking for me. He chose a job that would allow him do that and although now I am back, I am not the small child he remembers. Sometimes I don't know how to behave around him. He always has everything planned but he is no way like 'him'. No, he lets me choose what to do and with whom, he has suggestions and offers possibilities. Of course there are a few things that have to be done like bringing me legally back into the world of the living or like you predicted, go to a therapist.

I like his library, there are many books I have never seen and he promised to show me a real library on our shopping trip on Saturday. Not that I need more clothes but he said I should think about what is missing. What is needed. What I would like to have around me. Even my own books. I think I will start to look in the library for science books, chemistry, before he starts buying me some.

I like chemistry, I think. 'He' had shown me many ways to make explosives and drugs out of chemicals but I want to know more about it. Everything and not limited to the knowledge and use I was allowed.

It's late and actually I'm supposed to sleep but I can't. Don't be disappointed. I know I promises you I would try to improve the sleeping thing and I'm working on it. At least I tried and I think I will try again.

Hope you get this letter very soon. I want to read more from you.

Sherlock

John had to smile at the last part. Sherlock was a very bad sleeper. He couldn't do it for more than a few hours per night. And he had developed an unhealthy amount of nightmares towards the end of their stay together at the base. Nightmares that were understandable but also worrying.

It sounded like Sherlock was missing him, even if not too badly. Until now at least. A thing that John had tried to avoid was for Sherlock to develop a dependency on him. That would be as if he had just changed his keeper, his Master. He needed to learn to live by himself, although not alone. He needed to learn to make his own decisions based on his own wishes and feelings. And he needed to develop trust in himself to do this. This was something everyone learned while growing up: rebellion against ones parents, breaking their rules and learning out of mistakes you made.

Sherlock had never had the chance to do this. Rebellion in his world had been a no go. Moriarty's rules were something written in stone and ignoring or breaking them would have led to serious punishments, lots of pain and getting dangerously close to death. The same thing when a mistake was made. You cannot learn out of them if every time you make one you have to fear for your own life.

Anyway Sherlock's current thinking pattern in terms of 'how would Master want it' or 'if I do it that way, Master would be more proud' was not good at all and for it to change it was probably the best for him to be separated from John so as not to create another form of dependency. In this way he could also grow more confidence in himself, in his own being.

The relationship with his brother could be the right thing to help him. John knew Mycroft Holmes only as the cold hearted man who could get a whole country's to its knees. Admittedly, he had seen a few other sides of the man in the last weeks before he left but it didn't change the fact that the man has a hard time understanding and showing feelings and emotions which he considered a form of weakness. Something your enemies will use against you.

John sighed, he missed Sherlock and he wished everything to turn out well. The letter did not sound too bad. He was home safe, a bit insecure about his future – which was to be expected - he missed John, showed an interest in books and chemistry but it was only the beginning. Who knew what could happen until the next letter. The one thing that bothered and worried John a bit was the fact that Sherlock was not able to write down Moriarty's name. He had always only written, 'he' or 'him' when referring to Moriarty.