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The letter farewell	By : Laiquendi Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Slash > Slash Views: 4803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

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See what Holmes' has been thinking. I'll explain where these came from later. I don't own the characters and don't make any money from them.

Excerpt: The journal of Mr. Sherlock Holmes

I am a methodical man not given to whims. Yet when I realized my feelings for my dearest friend were bypassing the normal means of expression I knew something was amiss. For many days, whenever I had the time or the inclination, I would sit and think silently on the facts that surrounded me.

1) I have never been shown love in my life. It is hard to surmise that my parents wanted me around and my brother was often absent. It is only in our adult years that we have grown closer and mostly through our shared gifts. Growing up I was often left alone for hours with no activities. I took to the family library and read the books that had been, until that point, collecting dust. I developed my mind and later my body towards finding the place where I could use my gift.

2) Watson never showed any inclination towards love than that of the fair sex. He oft describes me as a thinking machine devoid of human emotions. That for the most part is likely true however I fear that when he does learn of my feelings it will be too much for him to contemplate.

3) For one man to love another is a crime in our great nation. For me, the detective to royalty, to even consider such a thing should raise an outcry greater than any seen before. Yet I have broken so many laws in my life, not the least being burglary and once witness to murder, what is one more. This is so harmless a matter, only concerning my dearest and myself. The only harm shall come if Watson learns of these feelings or does not return them should I choose to tell him.

4) My career would be in ruins should I tell Watson and he rejects me. Should I be prepared to flee the country once more, staging my death, simply to hide from one who cannot return my love? Or should I take that final step as Juliet did in the bardï¿½s play? To be rejected by one I care so deeply for may cause a fatal wound to my soul and negate all other issues at hand.

My mind rebels at telling Watson how I feel about him. I fear it will end our relationship and drive him away. I know he will tell me differently but he doesnï¿½t know how open his face truly is. Even if he were to lie to me, I would be able to tell the truth by reading his eyes. My heart tells me I have been alone for too many years and I should take a chance by telling Watson how I feel. I have so long focused on the mind as the sole organ of power it is quite unusual for me to consider listening to another, but I fear that is what I shall do.

I do not know if I can stand to bear his rejection of me. It is not that I love any other than him. I am not going out seeking companionship nightly. But how to tell him this when every word I would speak should lead him down that line of thought. I do not believe I could just come out and state that I love him. I do not wish to cause a heart attack in my dear friend, nor do I believe I should.

For now the matter lays unresolved. I doubt I shall ever be able to tell him how much my heart yearns for his. More than anything I do not know the words one should use in such a situation. It would shock Watson to know that I was wrong in so important a matter. If not for fear I would tell him merely for the joy of seeing his face. It is not often I am wrong.

Excerpt #2 Holmesï¿½ journal

It is now shortly after midnight, the fifth day since Watson walked out of our door for the final time. I broke down and admitted my feelings to him after a particularly successful case in the country. He tried admirably to hide his feelings but as I predicted his eyes betrayed his true emotions. For the first time in our relationship he looked upon me with revulsion in his eyes. Even his discovery of my use of cocaine did not thrill him to such a level of terror.

Cases have come my way and I have given my best to them, but as I told my dear Watson, the mind is more stimulated when one is in love. For the first and only time in my life when I have been so very wrong, I am paying so very high a price.

Excerpt #3 Holmesï¿½ journal

A year past and Watson still refuses to speak with me. I did not realize when I spoke to him how everlasting those last words would be. I can only think what Watson must think of when he recalls my name, if he even thinks of me at all. My life has become a mockery of existence. Even the most exotic case holds little thrill for me.

I have spoken at length with Mycroft to settle my affairs. I have written to Watson to say farewell. I only wish I could take back those words which I spoke so foolishly. My greatest desire is to have my only friend back in my life. But I have severed that tie forever. So now I shall send the letter via one of the irregulars to Watsonï¿½s home. I hope only that it will leave him with a calmer sense of me than the crazed man he saw in the glade in the country. I hope that he will remember our happier days together before this madness overcame me. But I shall never know.
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The letter farewell