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The indulgent smell of Italian mixed herbs and tomato fills both John and Sherlock with delight as they settle down at their favourite spot in the restaurant. They watch the city whiz past them as they gaze out of the large window, waiting for Angelo to bring back their (or rather John’s) food. The flickering flame of a tea light dances in the centre between the sets of cutlery, reflecting its apricot blaze onto the silverware. Kaleidoscope eyes shifted their gaze to the army doctor, who coincidentally had also turned at that same precise moment to look lovingly back at them. A cheeky yet shy grin overtook them both when looking into the eyes of the other; a faint blush dusted their complexions. John leant over to sweep a luxurious ebony curl behind his detective’s ear, displaying to the world the pearly white complexion of his dazzling date. Slender fingers interlaced with slightly stumpier, calloused ones as they waited for their food to arrive. The restaurant was rammed full with other customers, though to Sherlock and John there was only each other.
***
..at least, that was how Mrs Hudson had described it to Greg Lestrade and the rest of his team when they came knocking at her front door asking for the two men. She has always had a tendency to romanticise her two boys.
“We’re looking for this tape, see.” Lestrade explained in the woman’s hallway. “There’s been these kidnappings recently. Four of them. Sherlock said at the Yard that there should be a tape somewhere that would lead us straight to the man behind it all. We get to him and hopefully we can get to the kids.”
The elderly lady brought a fragile hand to her mouth in worry. “Oh dear..” She stepped aside to allow the detective inspector up the stairs that led to 221B, along with the other officers who accompanied him. “Well the boys haven’t mentioned anything about it. Are you sure it’s here? See, these things always make such a mess of my living room when you come round to search.”
“I’m afraid so. I’ll tell them to be as careful as they can. Do you know when Sherlock will be back?”
“Ohh heaven knows. They’re usually gone quite a while. They don’t go to Angelos often so they make the most of it while they can. Those boys..rushing about! I tell them they ought to slow down a bit. Just enjoy each other’s company for a change. I suppose they took my advice. Sweet boys they are. They make a wonderful couple.” Mrs Hudson smiled fondly at Lestrade, who looked not in the least bit interested at the woman’s cooing over his two mates, who were also nothing more. They had both made that extremely clear after a rather suggestive article in the Sun, which the Yard were all reading once as they came into the office. He supposed they had given up with telling Mrs Hudson, reluctant to crush this little fantasy of hers.
Lestrade merely smiled at her as he then proceeded to turn into the flat which was now being searched by his police team. Officers upturned sofa cushions, opened and cleared cupboards, discovered multiple specimens growing new species of mould in the fridge, poked at loose bricks and floorboards, and nosied around all of Sherlock and John’s possessions.
Anderson had ventured into the detective’s surprisingly up together bedroom and was sifting through the man’s wardrobe when at the back he had found a book. A book which he would have done well to glance at for a moment before making assumptions.
Nevertheless, the contents fell straight from the pages.
A tape.
Not taking notice to look at any further details, Anderson ran from the room and raced into the living room where Donovan was efficiently stripping a shelf of its books and ornaments. Anderson chucked the book in his hand to the floor and swung the tape up in the air, boasting that he had found it at last. “Found it in Freak’s wardrobe!” He called.
Lestrade walked over and took it from the very much overexcited man. Turning it over, the name ‘Eddie’ with a love heart could be read from the scrawny handwriting that had been scribbled over the side of the tape. “D’you reckon this is even the right one?” Lestrade spins the tape so Anderson and Donovan can read it. “Says Eddie?”
Anderson marches over and snatches the tape back. “Well obviously Sherlock isn’t going to make it easy to find! That is the most basic way to throw us off! If we read that, we’ll just assume it’s the wrong one and that it’s just some old family videos! He’s smart, remember! I’m starting to think the rest of you aren’t though.”
“Yes, alright Anderson.” Lestrade rolled his eyes. “Play it though first on their TV. Just so we don’t go running off with a video of Sherlock as a toddler or some shit.”
After taking a humiliatingly long time to figure out how John and Sherlock’s tape player works, Anderson loaded up the tape and stood back with the rest of the Yard to watch its contents.
The screen fuzzed for a few moments until the camera angle changed to point forwards and display a young man sitting alone amongst a blanket of foliage. He was really very attractive, or so some of the female officers believed. His head was full of tight curls that were cut short to his head. His dark skin was beautiful and smooth, giving him that elegant look of teenage youth. Lestrade reckoned he was approximately seventeen to eighteen years of age. The boy was surrounded by lush forest, which was starting to make his pale blue jeans go green as he sat amongst the vegetation writing in a small notebook quietly.
“So what does this have to do with the kidnappings?” Donovan asked but was abruptly shushed by Anderson who leant over to turn it up.
As it was turned up, they could hear the laughing of a small child. This caused all of the Yard to sit up slightly as it was proving to them that perhaps this was the right tape after all and everything they were watching could lead them to their kidnapper.
It is not long before the girl appears on the screen.
Lestrade begins to note down her appearance in his head so he knows instantly what they are looking for if it succumbs to the fact that this girl may be missing also.
Black British. Young, perhaps two to three years old. Short, curly hair tied into bunches with red ribbon. Currently in a pink shirt with a blue denim dungaree dress. Matching pink shoes.
The little girl was running as fast as her tiny legs could carry her until she had jumped into the lap of the other boy and winded him. She giggled continuously, like a trickling brook. The boy laughed too as he moved his notebook out of reach of the stretching toddler who strained to get it from his grip. She tried again to reach it but to no avail. She huffed and the boy laughed, chucking his head back as he did so. It was then that the girl turned to look at the person holding the camera. She giggled as she toddled over to him, grinning with the few teeth she had. The camera followed her until the other boy was out of sight and it was just the little girl as she gazed up from the cameraman’s feet.
“Can you help me pleaseeeee?” She gave the lens a snotty smile which was unbearably cute. “I can’t reach”
A deep chuckle could be heard from behind the camera. “Ahh so do you want me to help you with that?”
“Yeah yeah yeah!” The girl jumped up and down excitedly.
“Ooookay..” the man laughed and pointed the camera down so you could see his feet running over to the other boy who sat beside a tree. The angle then spun around so the face of the cameraman could be seen as he was seemingly trying to prop up the camera in the tree’s thick branches so both the little girl and him were in shot.
He was a gorgeous young fellow. He looked around the same age as the other. His skin however was fair. Extremely so in fact. He had a pearly white complexion which was brought out so much more by his soft ebony curls that hung loosely around his eyebrows in curtains. And then it was those eyes! Like kaleidoscopes they were.
That was what got Lestrade to notice the obvious fact that had been staring them in the face.
“Oh my god, that’s..” he started but like Donovan, was shushed by Anderson.
So Lestrade just allowed it to play, despite the fact that it clearly had nothing to do with the investigation.
Once the beautiful young man had them both in focus, he turned with a mischievous glint in his eye as he ran over and swept the girl into his arms. The result..uncontrollable laughter. He swung her up high into the air, twirling her around in the sky.
She squealed and screamed and giggled.
Low laughter could also be heard from the man. That familiar baritone chuckle they should all know well but it seemed only Lestrade had recognised it. His eyes were brimmed with tears of laughter as he spun the girl around. She shrieked with joy as she glided through the air.
“Babe put her down!” Another male voice called, laughingly. “You’ll make her sick from all that spinning. Especially after she ate all that chocolate cake earlier!”
The slender boy carefully lowered the girl down until her tiny feet made contact with the grass below. She then took the boy’s hand and pulled him with her over to the other boy.
“Play with me, Shwerlock!” She cooed.
There were gasps from every person in Sherlock’s sitting room. Donovan had a stunned hand over her face. Anderson’s eyes had a radius of at least 10cm as they bulged from his head in shock.
Despite this however, no one moved to switch it off. They all watched absorbedly as Sherlock was pulled over with the little girl to play dolls.
“Looky, looky!” The girl pushed a doll into his face.
“Oh. Now that one’s very nice.” Sherlock took it from her hand only to have another shoved into him straight afterwards.
“Oh yes. Very handsome.”
“Y-you play daddy and daddy. Then I’ll play with the girl dolly!” She beamed at him.
“Ah so we’re playing Dads and Dads again. I see.” Sherlock said, now holding the two dolls up so it looked as if they were standing on the floor.
“Eddie hun, are you playing too?” Sherlock looked over at the boy, gesturing at the other doll in his hand.
“No, no. I need to finish this a sec. I’ll just watch.”
Sherlock nodded and turned back to their serious game of dolls.
“Dads and Dads?” Anderson asked.
“Hun? Babe?” Donovan looked horrified.
“Oh my god? Don’t tell me Freak has a daughter!”
No one answered and just resumed watching the video. Sherlock played with the girl for about half an hour before her eyelids began to droop and the doll sagged in her little hands.
“Take Diora a second.” Sherlock whispered as he leaned over to get something that wasn’t in view of the camera. Eddie shifted over to reach for Diora and pull her into his lap. She shifted a little until she was snuggled tightly into the boy’s chest.
Sherlock retracted his arm and on the other end of it was a guitar.
A beautiful one at that.
It was of rich mahogany wood with silver tuning pegs. A shiny black strip ran along its side and engravings were carved into the front to form a delicate pattern in the grain.
With the tenderness of a mother with her child, Sherlock plucked the strings so a soft melody rang out.
He was rather good at it, despite none of the Yard ever hearing him play or speak of the instrument before, unlike his violin. However, it was when he sang that they all looked utterly shocked.
It was the tune of ‘Hey there Delilah’ by Plain White T’s, although he had changed the lyrics ever so slightly so the name was now Diora.
“Hey there Diora, what's it like in New York City?
I’m a thousand miles away but girl tonight you look so pretty
Yes you do.
Time square can’t shine as bright as you.
I swear it’s true”
His voice was enchanting, hitting notes perfectly with such ease. The words were smooth from his lips and his tone was delicate so it slowly pulled the girl into sleep.
“Oh, it’s what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
Oh It's what you do to me
Oh it’s what you do to me
What you do to me”
Both boys were singing now to the sleeping beauty in Eddie’s lap.
It was just wonderful.
However the moment was swiftly ruined as they heard raised voices and stomping coming from outside the door. Nobody had the good sense to turn the tape off so they just left it running behind them as they turned to see a raging Sherlock, followed by a rather irritated John and a timid Mrs Hudson, rampaging into the room.
“What the hell are you doing in my flat? You can’t just invite yourself in all the time! I’ve had..” he trailed off, but no one really noticed.
“John! Sherlock! We..didn’t think you’d be back yet.” Lestrade was visibly panicked. “Mrs Hudson said you’d be at Angelos all evening.
“We were.” John huffed. “But then some stupid tosser mugged an old lady on a street corner and we saw from the window. We chased him all through sodding Marylebone all the way into Paddington and up into Hyde Park. The bastard.” John threw his coat onto its hook and folded his arms irritatedly. “We caught him in the end. I should warn you, you may want to check the benches at the park in the morning. Sherlock handcuffed him to one and left him there. He probably broke himself off but you never know.” John turned to face Sherlock who still hadn’t moved. John just assumed he was in a sulk and wasn’t going to talk for a few hours so proceeded to remove the scarf wrapped around the man’s neck and place it on the detective’s own hook. “Course then we went and lost the old lady. And as Sherlock was so desperate for a little puzzle to solve, he insisted on searching for her using any clues he could find. He got us looking around all of central London, only to then discover that she had been sitting in Angelos the whole time with a glass of wine!” John pulled at Sherlock’s coat rather forcefully to get it off but the man was not budging an inch to help. “Sherlock! For Christ’s sake!” He tugged at the sleeve again but Sherlock still did nothing in response. “Sherlock?” John waved a hand in front of the man’s eyes after noticing that Sherlock had been staring forward without blinking. He followed the man’s eyeline until he too was watching the screen. It showed a young girl in a teenage boy’s lap, presumably her brother, asleep. There was another boy who was white and thin with thick black hair. He had just put down his guitar to kiss the other boy’s cheek. He soon smoothly manoeuvred his way down until their lips met and they were affectionately kissing one another, careful not to wake the dozing toddler.
“Is..” John squinted disbelievingly at the television. “Is that you?”
After a second of silence, Sherlock broke from his stupor and dotted his gaze around the room, as if he had forgotten where he was.
“Turn that off.” He commanded “Now! And don’t break the tape!”
Right away, Lestrade hurried over guiltily to the tape player and stopped it from playing as quickly as he could.
“Be careful!”
“Yes, alright sorry.” Lestrade withdraws the tape from the machine and hands it over to Sherlock.
Sherlock looks furious as he snatches it out of Lestrade’s grasp and places it down on the coffee table beside him.
“You can’t just go through my stuff! Invading my privacy as you please!”
“I know. We’re sorry Sherlock, it’s just..” Lestrade was cut off by a sneering Donovan.
“What is it Freak? Can’t stand the thought of being human?”
Ignoring her completely, Sherlock takes his seat on the far sofa on the back wall.
The sulking settee, as John refers to it as.
And indeed, this was a prime moment for one of Sherlock’s infamous sulks, John had no doubt about that.
However there was a tremble to the man’s form as he obsessively stared at the tape set down beside him. Nails were being worn whilst he chewed at them frantically. Legs were jittering as Sherlock bobbed them up and down in a panic.
“Sherlock?” John took his opportunity to sit beside the detective and place a caring hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Who were they?”
Ninety per cent of the time, Sherlock would snap at him and everyone else for that matter to mind their own business. But today, today there was a vulnerability to the detective as a bit of his past was delved into for the first time in decades.
It caught him off guard, so his walls didn’t have time to build themselves high enough to keep prying eyes and ears out.
“My..my ex-boyfriend. Edgar Goodall. And..his baby sister.” Sherlock glanced away from them all. “Diora-Jane.”
“What happened?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Anderson interrupted. “The guy realised what a nutter he is and decided to keep himself and his vulnerable daughter away from the madman. Most likely ditched him after finding a human finger in the sheets, or a severed head at the coffee table perhaps?”
Sherlock usually ignored the comments made by the other officers and today seemed no different as Sherlock merely glanced in the other direction. However, John noticed that unlike the other times, there was a flicker of deep emotional anguish in his expression that went far deeper than just a nasty comment from Anderson.
“What happened between you two? If you don’t mind me asking..”
Sherlock remained still and silent for a moment until he turned his back to the room and marched through the halls of 221B. Just as everyone thought the man must have walked off in a strop, Sherlock returned with the same book Anderson tossed away earlier under his arm.
Without a word, Sherlock sat down on the sofa and opened the front cover. Carefully, the detective tried to fold out the creases made from Anderson carelessly leaving it as a rumpled mess on the floor when whizzing out of the room with the hidden tape.
With further inspection, the book could now clearly be seen as a photo album. Sherlock was staring at the first page almost desperately. It was as if looking at the book was his lifeline. He was also evidently fond of the very first photo, of which contained a fresh-faced Sherlock kissing his boyfriend on the cheek as they stood outside his family home, readying themselves to attend the end of year eleven prom.
“Edgar..or as I mostly called him..Eddie and I met when we were sixteen. I had switched science classes due to..minor disagreements with my previous chemistry teacher, and so was placed next to him. We clicked almost instantly and became rather close in a short space of time.”
His bony and slender finger manoeuvred across the page onto the next two photos. The first one was of the two of them sitting in the cosy sitting room setting as they grinned at each other, forgetting the cheesy film in front of them or the even cheesier nachos they had been munching through.
The second photograph was presumably taken by Eddie and was of a blushing Sherlock holding out a bouquet of gorgeous yellow and white tulips.
Even Donovan couldn’t deny that her heart melted ever so slightly at the sight.
“You looked very happy together.” John smiled.
“We were.”
The next page was turned over to reveal photos of the couple pushing a pram past a lake.
“Ed had a little sister, Diora-Jane Goodall.” Sherlock looked towards the picture of him bouncing her on his knee, pretending she was riding a horse and the big jolts were the horse vaulting over the obstacles. “She was one year, six months and two weeks old at this point, judging by the development of her teeth and bone structure.”
Anderson and Donovan rolled their eyes.
“She was just the most beautiful, playful, loving little girl. Everything a parent would want in their own child. But I suppose it was only natural she’d turn out that way, being related to Edgar.”
John moved closer to look at the photos and smiled at the one where the three of them appear to be enjoying a picnic. Sherlock was laughing openly and honestly as his boyfriend was trying to wipe honey from his baby sister’s chubby cheeks.
Sherlock noticed John looking at the photo, Sherlock’s laughter in particular, and offered a light-hearted comment - which was a rarity when it came to the Holmes boys. “Safe to say I was not still laughing when the wasps decided they wanted a taste of it too..”
John and a few of the other officers chuckled at that as Sherlock continued on through the book to the third page.
“She’s a bit older now. Two..” Sherlock noticed the annoyed facial expressions of Anderson and Donovan. “..and a bit.”
John started laughing all of a sudden and Lestrade gave him a questioning look. John pointed at the bottom left of the page to reveal a photograph of a sleeping Sherlock having his hair plaited, combed and clipped by little Diora, who was grinning ear to ear as her big brother was bent over in hysterics.
“You must have been different back then..” John chuckled.
“How do you mean?”
“Well..now it’s a task to get you to even go to sleep. Let alone get you to sleep so soundly that you don’t even notice someone messing about with your hair while another man practically dies of laughter beside you.”
“Oh not quite, John. My reflexes were just the same. I was in fact wide awake at that time and merely humouring Diora. I must say though, I drew the line and had to pretend to wake up suddenly when I heard the click of the lipstick cap.”
Sherlock gained a few laughs from that.
He slid his slender fingers over more of the old pages, soon landing on one which included all three of them in a park. Eddie was holding Diora tightly to his chest as Sherlock pointed out the two doves stood on the bench across from them.
Diora appeared utterly fascinated as she gazed at the two birds in complete awe.
Sherlock took a deep inhale of the suddenly stuffy air as he readied himself to reveal a part of him to the room. “I..I had a rather unhappy childhood. My family life was pretty good. Dysfunctional granted, but I was taken care of well. It was later, when I met the other children, that things started to deteriorate. I didn’t ever have friends. The other children always loathed me and my eccentric way of socialising. Deducing everyone I met. Tearing their characters apart. Revealing everything about them and their secrets. But I was only young. I never knew that I was any different from anyone else. I expected someone to turn around and deduce me back in the same way. When they didn’t, I soon realised..I was a freak. So I started to do what I wanted. The other kids hated me so I decided to give them something to really hate me about. But then, in my teenage years, I finally met the first people who understood me and accepted for who I am. Eddie and Diora made me better again. They made me free and happy, without the burden of hatred and loneliness on my shoulders. It was as if I was that excited child I once was all those years ago, racing in front of my mother to get to the school gates for the first day. They encouraged me to use my deducing skills for good. It was Eddie that recommended the whole detective thing. And since then, I was set on the idea. I was happy, I had a job prospect, I had friends..I was normal. But..it was when they left that my life started to decline back to my old ways.”
“What happened? Why did they leave?” John began to rub soothing circles onto Sherlock’s shoulder.
Rather than answering, Sherlock continued on with the book, because he knew the next few pages would give a better explanation than he could provide with merely words.
There are only two images on the next page. The first being a small, slightly faded photograph of Diora tucked up in bed with a hospital gown covering her emaciated body; there were all manner of tubes attached to various parts of her, all of which were slowly dripping different medicines and drugs to take away a small fraction of the immense pain no child should ever have to withstand. Her thick and beautiful afro, which was usually tied into adorable little bunches with matching bows, was gone and in its place was a sweet children’s headscarf that was covered in honey bees and flowers. She was sleeping peacefully with her brother and parents at her side, watching on as she dozed.
Sherlock couldn’t look at the picture for more than a couple of seconds before he hastily glanced to another part of the room to gather up his escaping emotions enough to explain. “Not long after her third birthday, Diora was diagnosed with leukaemia, which was developing rapidly. She went through countless methods of treatment. I ensured that Mycroft looked at every possible option available to her. At first, chemotherapy seemed to have worked and the doctor’s were pretty positive that she would recover. They were mistaken.” He chanced looking back at the album and bit his lip as he found the last photo ever taken of both him and Diora together. Though the girl lacked the rosy, cherubic cheeks that used to always grace her perfect little face, she still kept that Diora-Jane style grin until the very end.
It was weaker than before as the poor thing was exhausted from just continuing to live for another day. But the tireless effort was just the same as a tiny smile was decorating her face while she glanced up adoringly at Eddie and Sherlock, each of her feeble hands wrapped up loosely in one of theirs.
“..two months, and she was gone.”
“Oh Sherlock..” John whispered.
Every officer had their heads bowed as they, for the first time, felt sympathy for the detective.
Hot torrents of grief now coursed down the detective’s cheeks as he choked out a sob.
“Me and Eddie, as you can imagine, didn’t cope very well. I started smoking cigarettes as a way of relieving my nerves, and Eddie became reliant on antidepressants. We were a mess.”
Sherlock slowly began to pull out a piece of card from the back of the book.
It was an order of service, reading:
‘In Loving Memory of Edgar Jevantae Goodall’
A photograph of Eddie, beaming at the camera made Sherlock sniffle. “Eddie died four months after Diora. An overdose. He left everything he owned to me, which wasn’t much as they were not a particularly wealthy family. His note..that was for me too. They found it stuffed in his pocket when they recovered his body. It was on the back of my lyric sheet for ‘Hey there Diora’ which I had spent an entire afternoon trying to figure the chords out for.” Sherlock returned the order of service back into its plastic sleeve at the back of the book as well as the tape and closed it gently, rubbing his hand soothingly over the cover.
“As for this book. It was a gift from my brother, Mycroft. When Eddie and Diora were gone, I was a wreck. I got in with all sorts of people and became heavily addicted to drugs. I had managed to keep my habits a secret for a long while, but it takes a lot of mental strength to keep Mycroft in the dark, and I was in no way fit to do so. So he found me, tucked away in some drug den, overdosing on anything I could get my hands on. He managed to get me into rehab, get me clean, despite my resistance. Once I finally left, I started doing my detective work, like Eddie said I should, and my life was back on track. As a reward, Mycroft put this together and gave it to me. It is by far the nicest thing he has ever done.”
The whole room was teary-eyed and sniffling as they regretted every incident where they bullied Sherlock by calling him a freak, or barging in on him with an uncalled for drugs bust, or telling him how unloved he was. None of them had ever felt so rotten with guilt.
Sherlock stood up suddenly and made his way to the fridge. “Now if you don’t mind, would you please all get out. Me and John didn’t get a chance to finish our dinner so we’d like to be able to spend the rest of our evening in peace.” He then turned to address John only. “There’s some leftovers from yesterday's tea, we can have that.”
John then cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, yeah alright.” He then approached Sherlock and took the container of lasagne, which Mrs Hudson had made for them, and put it in the microwave.
“Many of you may believe that I am a psychopath or some sort of freak. But has it ever occurred to you why we behave in our different ways? Mrs Hudson,” he looked towards his tearful landlady. “You find yourself being drawn to shallow men with complicated lifestyles. You get angry when the unstableness of these potential relationships is pointed out to you. But this is because you spent a good part of your life being cheated on and controlled by a man who owned a drug cartel and was always involved in criminal activity. Lestrade, you have a small attention to detail. You tend to ignore little things and allow them to go unnoticed due to spending so long with your cheating wife that you have subconsciously learnt to disregard things, including clues in your work. And John. John Watson you have grown up without a suitable father or mother figure in your childhood and so the only person you could look up to was your older sister. The one that you would believe every time she said she would stop with the drinking but never had the intention to do so, leading to your severe trust issues. You also find yourself abnormally attracted to dangerous lifestyles and become impatient if you spend too long without an adrenaline rush stimulated by an intense criminal chase or life-threatening situation. Why? Because you joined the army from a young age and it was the only place you felt like you belonged due to your lack of family life and stability back in England. So each of you has your flaws, and each of those flaws have their origin. But you are my friends, of whom I would never judge or neglect purely down to characteristics that resulted from your own personal experiences. Now..if you’ll excuse us, me and John would like to have our dinner. It’s a rarity that we get to just enjoy each other’s company without some murderer attempting to kill us or a deranged arsonist trying to blow up our kitchen.”
With that, Scotland Yard began to evacuate from the flat, each of them exchanging guilty looks with one another and sorrowful smiles towards the consulting detective.
Once they had all left and it was only Sherlock and John who remained, John placed his hand over Sherlock’s comfortingly.
“You still love him, don’t you?”
“Yes. I love them both, deeply. But Edgar would be happy I’m sure to know that I’m doing okay. I’ve got you now after all. That’s what he wanted for me.” Sherlock then stretched across to get the photo album back and revealed to John something he didn’t show the others.
It was the note.
Dearest Sherlock,
Knowing you, you have already deduced what it is that I have done and what it is that I need to say to you before I do it. But please, Sherlock, at least read on so I can tell you that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my love, but I must leave you behind.
You always said that me and Diora were so alike yet so different in our ways, which is why you loved us more than anything in the world. But let me tell you, our sweet Diora-Jane was nothing like me. She was stubborn and strong and stayed until fate would just not permit it. And throughout it, she stayed smiling. However, fate has granted me mercy and allowed me to escape before I fall even further into the person I am not. I just cannot go on without her. When mum and dad died, all we had was each other and it was my duty to care for her. So with her gone, I feel like an empty shell without any purpose.
But you listen to me, Sherlock Holmes. You are not one to listen to others, and you are not one to follow the rules. That’s what made me fall in love with you from the moment we met, when you showed up that dozy chemistry teacher for what they were. But Sherlock, there’s just one thing I ask of you, and it’s the usual thing you’d find in notes like these, but that’s not because it’s ‘tedious’ or ‘boring’ as you would describe, it’s because it’s true.
You need to keep living.
Not only because I love you, but because you are too excellent for others to miss. The world needs to see you for what you are and what you can do. Use your talents for good like I’ve always told you and find someone who admires you just the same as me and Diora always have.
I LOVE YOU
I LOVE YOU!
Stay strong and never stop being my beautiful, smart, gentle, sharp-witted, darling, Sherlock Holmes.
I love you
Eddie
“So you see? I’ve done everything he’s asked of me. I’ve carried on living, I’ve become a detective, and I’ve found you.” Sherlock stared into John’s eyes. “You, John, are the only person since Eddie that has helped me come closer to being the boy that I once was.”
John had hot torrents of grief coursing down his pinkened cheeks as he listened to Sherlock’s confession. All the demons he had kept hidden away for all these years had finally been freed, allowing them a deeper understanding of one another.
It was then that Sherlock let out a deep, baritone chuckle, attracting the attention of John.
“What?”
“Oh nothing..”
“No, what is it?”
“It’s just..I was thinking. It’s taken us this long to realise how much we need each other. Without you, I doubt I’d last even a week and vice versa. It was just that, Mrs H sees our relationship as romantic, Lestrade sees it as platonic. When really, I think it’s more of a mutual parasitic relationship. We both get something out of having the other around.”
John’s face looked completely puzzled.
Sherlock began to laugh again. “And then I thought of what you’d look like if I told you, and it’s exactly that..”
John then chuckled along with Sherlock before placing down their plates of lasagne along with two glasses of wine.
Each of them picked up their glasses and raised them, looking upwards.
“Eddie and Diora, here’s to you..” Sherlock smiled, “this one’s for you.”