Chosen for Fate

Letters To John

Rain falls and hits grass, wool jumpers, and a stone black gravestone with the infamous name Sherlock Holmes in letters that would haunt the man standing before it for the rest of his days. This man, John Watson, is standing before the best friend he ever didn't know, who's dead.
The strong army man trembles as he looks down at the letters on the grave, the same letters written on a silver band that has never left his person. Letters that stood for a man, yes a man, that he had never met but loved like he had known him for a thousand years. He raises a hand to his mouth that had never been kissed to stifle back the loud sobs that echo in his mind. His soldier mind yelling at him to stay strong, toughen up, he was only a man like countless others you watched die. But he couldn't listen between the news reports that rocked his brain, and the thoughts that his unknown lover never got to hold his hand, touch his face, lie with him, and be completely him. The soldier falls to his knees and his tears blend in with the rain that pools around him.
John looks up from his trembling hands at the base of his lovers grave to see Sherlock's name staring back at him, along with his own name. An envelope sits in the rain under the shade of a flower with his name on it. His rough hands reach out to grab the letter, being careful not to get it wet as he tears open the binding. He takes in a shakey breath as he begins to read a scribbled handwriting.

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Dear John,

I cannot address you by your full name as I do not know it, but those are the rings for you. Only a first name, John. A name that is boring but you made extraordinary. I need you to know ,John, that I am truly sorry for all the pain I have caused you no matter what it would be. And I am sorry that you ended up with me, or would have ended up with me as I am pretty sure the reason you are reading this is because I am dead.

But do not fret dear John as I am saving you the pain that would have been more if you were to be with me. I am most likely the most unpleasant man you would have ever had the misfortune of coming across. I knew that, but I was selfish and wanted you to come to me anyway. You see, love is a defect that is only found on the loosing side, but I let it rule my head anyway. It is better this way you must realize, for I am just a consulting detective who solves crimes in an alternative to getting high. I may have died of an overdose, in the field, or maybe even just of my own accord. Don't weep for me my dearest John, as I do not deserve it.

How did we end up here John? Was it fate, the rings, a blog perhaps? Whatever the reason let me just tell you I'm glad you are here. I'm glad you have found me no matter the state I am in, and even though I might not be able to express it face to face John, I love you. It took me a long time to realize but I truly believe I do. You must be the exact opposite of me, Kind, Caring, a good man. A man that I was lucky enough to even dream of who would love me. I did dream of you, a lot on fact, maybe one day you spared a dream for me?

I don't even know if you are real. For all I know you are just a name that doesn't exist, designed to torture me out of my mind thinking that somewhere out there, there is someone who could possibly love me.

This letter you see, it's my note. That's what people do don't they? Leave a note, to those they love after death?

Goodbye John.

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Salty tears join the rain drops that begin to dot the paper and smear the words. John's eyes couldn't stop looking at three little words, I love you. But then they fell on to two words, goodbye John. As water soaks through the army doctor's trousers, John lets his body go limp in defeat. He runs a hand through his sandy hair and it becomes spiked up like a hedgehog. How would he live knowing that Sherlock would never be with him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't bring back the dead, or mend a broken heart. He rocked himself back and forth as he racked out soundless cries for anything, anything to switch places with the brilliant man who now lied 6 feet beneath him.

A nudge against his thigh reminded him of what he brought with him. He thought he could cope but he knew he was kidding himself. There was no living without the name on his ring to live with. He traced over the letters one by one for the millionth time, rememorizing every single curve that made up the name of the man he couldn't live without. The soldier slides a shakey hand into one of his soaked trouser pockets, and slowly pulls out a Browning L9A1 gun. A gun he could have used with Sherlock on all of his wild and amazing cases, but now would never get the chance. He stares down at the wet letter and gun in his hand and is just so tired. So tired of running trying to find a happiness that is dead and buried; that he will never see.

He turns the gun towards himself and stares down the barrel to the black abyss, where he will join Sherlock. "Sherlock" the weak man whispers through tears. He drops the letter to the ground and raises a hand to his mouth, still staring at the gun. He sits back on his heels, utterly defeated by what would have been. "God dammit Sherlock" he whispers to himself again as he puts the trembling barrel of the gun into his mouth. It tastes like metal; like what it tasted like when he got shot in Afghanistan, only this time he wouldn't wake to the taste of stale air in a hospital wing. The gun rattles against his teeth as his hand quivers from the cold and complete hopelessness. There was no one left in the world that would have made him as happy as the man laying before him.

He takes a deep breath and pulls on the trigger.

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A cold slender hand wraps around the finger pressed against the decision to live or die. The pale hand slowly tears the rough hands of a soldier off the gun, and clicks the round out as it falls to the ground with a wet thump. Both of the hands move to John's cheeks to steady the shaking man. John opens his warm eyes to see piercing blue ones staring back at him. The eyes of his dreams.

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AN: I was going to end it at John's death but that is cruel even for my standards. Please comment motivation to write next chapter! Love all you guys so much and can't believe this amazing fic will soon be coming to a close ! Who knows maybe an epilogue is in the making......