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5:48 P.M, Saturday evening.

Dear John,

I'm not entirely sure at what time you will receive this letter, or even if you ever will, but if you do not this will still benefit me in some way. Since you have decided to return to Afghanistan, every person that both you and I know has become increasingly agitated - not only with me, but in general. My patience for them seems to be waning with every waking moment.

I'm still unclear with why you have returned to your position not as a doctor, but a captain. I don't even know why you went back at all. However I do know it had something to do with me, and since that is a fact, I believe that it is in my power to apologize for whatever I have done.

I'm sorry I didn't go by the milk five Wednesday's ago. I'm sorry I drove your latest girlfriend away (although she wasn't adequate in any way, shape, or form). I'm sorry I almost got you killed - again - when chasing Mr. Hyde. I'm sorry I yelled at you when you pried about my mood - you deserved to know and I was simply being too stubborn to acknowledge that someone still cared.

Even after two years, it is difficult for me to open up to you. Yet whatever I have done I hope for the sake of my only hope for humanity - you - that you will forgive me for my aloofness.

My brother has been checking in on me more often than not. He said something akin to 'This is going to be another case like Victor. I assume that you have done something to drive him to the point where Afghanistan was better than staying at home...' and then something like 'There isn't a person that could withstand you long enough to stay with you forever...' and I ignored him from there. He's given me the same speech all too often.

Am I, John? Am I that broken?

I don't want to think I am, but I am beginning to believe that that is the truth.

Donovan has become excruciatingly annoying since you've gone. She makes little jibes and comments about you finally coming to your senses and leaving. Says I'm not capable of feeling enough to care about you. No matter how much I tell her differently, she just shakes her head and mutters 'freak', before walking away.

Anderson is the same. I try not to pay too much attention to him.

Lestrade is giving me less cases now. Says I'm becoming insufferable. I'm insufferable because he won't give me a case. If I had a case, I probably wouldn't waste your time and resort to these letters. If you wish to blame someone, blame Lestrade.

If I am correct you are able to respond to my letter. Which I am.


I'm not entirely sure I wish for you to. I just hope this experience with be salutary for you.

Maybe I shouldn't send this letter. This 'maybe' is strange to me, for I have never used that word until you appeared. I don't know if I should berate you or congratulate you.

Since you are busy, I assume you won't write back. I just wanted to explain myself before - well, before you come back, or before something else happens. I won't entertain that subject any more than needed.

Please, John. Please don' something else.

I am sincerely sorry.

Yours, Sherlock
So, this is going to be back and forth letters from Sherlock to John and back to Sherlock, as you can see. It's just something to keep me occupied when writing in between chapters to my stories on Fanfiction, and I hope that you guys won't be increasingly bored with them. xD I will try to make them as interesting as possible and try to grasp a lot of emotion as letters are usually written with.

"Letters To John" will be the letter entry's to John, of course, and "Letters To Sherlock" will be the responses. 

Er, other than that, I just wanted to say....I hope you like? Or are at least interested? xD 
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Submitted on
March 16, 2014