He did it for you

Bad things happen to good people

John woke up when he heard a familiar sound. Violin. Sherlock had likely been up for a few hours now and it must have been around noon. John put on a tshirt and walked out into the hall where he could smell food. Food? Sherlock never cooked anything in his life! John ran down to the kitchen to see two plates filled with eggs, bacon, and toast.

He looked at Sherlock who played while watching him.

"What is this?"

Sherlock kept playing as he spoke.

"A thank you."

"For what?"

"Taking care of me."

Sherlock stopped laying the melody and sat down at the table.

"It was dumb of me to impair my judgment with drugs. I gave that up a long time ago."

"I'm just amazed that you can cook."

John sat down beside Sherlock and watched as he brought a spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

"And you're eating too? What's gotten into you?"

"The worst thing. Something called sentiment."

John almost chocked on a piece of bacon when he heard that.

"Sentiment?"

"Sentiment for my own body. It seems that eating helps with the symptoms of with drawl. I suppose it couldn't hurt once in a while."

"Oh."

"So what are we doing today?"

"Oh, I was going to go see Mary toda-"

*Knock knock knock*

Sherlock turned towards the door.

"Looks like you won't have to."

Sherlock opened the door and greeted Mary.

"Hello Mary I assume you're here for John."

"Actually I've got a business meeting, so I'll be gone for awhile."

Sherlock looked into her eyes and sighed.

"Don't do this."

"Don't do what?"

"I know where you're going."

"And how could you possibly know that?"

"You have a letter in your pocket, possibly the one that's going to explain everything to John because he doesn't yet understand. Your shirt was thrown on haphazardly because you're going somewhere not worried of who might see you, which is a bit unusual for a meeting isn't it? Especially for a professional meeting. Not dressed very warm so I presume you aren't going somewhere very cold. You've always had a very keen memory, and I assume you thought nothing of it when you saw the bullet holes. You didn't take it as a threat even though it could have been someone else shooting. Maybe cause you're used to it? You have calluses on your middle, and index finger suggesting that you hold something in that hand very often, and you also know how to crack code. I know what you are Mary. You are a very dangerous individual. And if you think that just because you and John won't be together anymore that you can go ahead and take down what I presume to be another dangerous individual then think again."

"And you're going to stop me?"

"No. but you're going to tell John."

"That's what the letter is for."

Sherlock closed the door and brought the letter to John, who was finishing up his meal.

"What did Mary want?"

"It wasn't Mary. It was the post man. But this is for you."

John grabbed the letter and sliced it open.

John,

I know this may seem odd and all for me to send you this letter but it has a purpose. After Sherlock died and I found you I wasn't entirely honest with who I was. If you want to know who I really am, ask Sherlock. He really is the genius you talked him up to be.

Anyways. When I met you, I already knew who you were. I knew all about you and Sherlock and all the cases you've been on together. But seeing you describe them and Sherlock's brilliance had me thinking. I know you yourself might not yet understand, but it all comes in time. John I hope you know that I love you and always will, but there's something much more important than you and me that I have to do and I fear that I may not come back from it. I really hope that you understand, and figure it all out.

-M.A.R.Y

John put the letter down and stared at his empty plate.

"Why."

Sherlock turned towards John and lowered his eyes.

"Why does this always happen?"

"John?"

John looked at Sherlock with pleading eyes.

"Why does everyone always leave me?"

A tear fell from John's eye and Sherlock jumped up, wrapping his arms around him. John buried his face in Sherlock's chest and wept while he was held. Sherlock held on to John tightly as he placed a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm so sorry John. I'm so sorry."

They sat there for hours holding each other and talking until John fell asleep from tiring himself out. Sherlock picked John up making sure he wouldn't wake him and stood still for a minute. He couldn't bring him upstairs because he would probably drop him, so Sherlock decided to let him sleep in his room. He laid John in his bed and pulled the blanket over him and John shifted and opened his eyes.

"Sherlock?"

"Y-yes?"

"Thank you."

Sherlock woke up at around 4 and stretched his back. Sleeping on the sofa hadn't been a good idea, but for John he would. He grabbed the new violin John had picked out for him out of the box and held it in his hand. And he began composing.