My angel from heaven

So this is going to be diffrent, and I have no idea how many people are going to read it before the release of season Three. Hopefully even after after, people will still read it. Thank you for reading 😄 please tell me what you think by commenting!

Also, every time I refer to Him/he in caps, it means Sherlock.

I am pretty sure this has been written before, In head canons and on tumblr, but I cannot say I've seen it. This came to me in a dream, so don't tell me I am being a copyer. And please don't hate on me for this beig Johnlock.

Also, all chareters belong to BBC, not me.

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John was done. He was sure by now that if HE was still alive, HE would have come back by now. It's been a year and a half now, the longest time of John's life.

John knew it was his last day on this earth. He wanted to join his lost love in the land of the dead. John didnt know how he had gone this long in the first place.

John made himself a cup of tea. He wasn't worried about what he was going to do. He was glad, terrified slightly, but his adrenilin was already running.

John went to his room. Well, it use to be HIS room, but John felt safer in there. John took a big breath in, taking in the slight sent that still hung in the air. John looks under the bed, where there was a hidden box.

In the box, was the letters everyone will get to hopefully once he was gone. There was even one for HIM, though it was written a long time ago. John takes the letters, and sits them out beside the laptop. John was going to make one last blog post, saying goodbye to everyone that reads his blog, even after all this time.

John had many deticated readers, and many believed that HE was still alive; but many have started to lose faith, much like John has.

He wrote words, then carefully read over them again:

" I'm sorry. I tried being strong. Thank you, for reading my blog still. Thank you for those who still believe, but I don't anymore. Sherlock... He's gone. He's not coming back. It's Sherlock, he would have gotten bored and came back by now. That's who he was.

This is my last post. I'm sorry. I need to be with him again. See, I've been lying to you. Sherlock, he wasn't just my best friend, I loved him: More than I have ever loved anyone. I'm sad that I didn't realize this sooner.

Thank you for everything. I'll be happy again in a few hours. I'll be with the one I love.

Sherlock, bloody hell, I wish you were still here. But you're not mate, and I miss you a bloody lot.

Goodbye to all, and Sherlock, I'll always love you.

Sincerely,

John Hamish Watson."

John clicked enter, feeling as it was going to be as good as it can get. He hoped that his readers would understand.

John goes to the washroom. He grabs his pills and his favourite razor. He walks to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water.

John writes a note to Mrs. Hudson, tell her where he will be, but in reality it will be where they find his dead body.

John puts on a light coat as he walks out of his flat. He doesn't bother to lock the door, nothing in there was worth keeping.

He hails a cab, it didn't take very long.

" Where are you going?" The Cabbie asks.

" The graveyard, twelve blocks south." John replies sadly. John looks out the window. He just wanted to get this over with.