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Goodbye, John.
I was the planet orbiting you. Take out the centre, and the orbit collapses on itself. I went back to being directionless, the way I had been before you came along.
***
Even him.
“I will never let that happen”.
“You mean you’ll kill again?”
“Yes.”
“And kill anyone, at that?”
“Yes.”
“Even Sherlock?”
“Yes, even him.”
***
For you.
“What did you do that for, you blithering idiot?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“So wait, you were still scarred from torture, came back, jumped into a fire to save me even though you thought I had cut you out of my life, planned my wedding, watched me marry her, fucking watched me and her dance to the waltz YOU had composed, left the wedding, fucking relapsed into drugs, got shot by her, flatlined, nearly died, fucking WILLED yourself back to life, broke out of hospital and still tried to save my marriage, went on to shoot a guy in cold blood just because he threatened her, and were willing to go your death, and NEVER FUCKING BREATHED A WORD OF IT TO ME, WHY?”
“For you, John. Always for you.”
***
Always yours.
“Thought you were asexual?”
“I’m whatever I need to be to be yours.”
“Then you need only be Sherlock fucking Holmes.”
“Still can’t believe it.”
“You’re mine”.
“Always. Always yours.”