Sherlock & John (A Teenlock Fanfiction)

Our Not-So-Last Correspondence

Hello, readers, voters, commenters, and friends. (None of those are mutually exclusive.)

I really would say so much, but I have a feeling that only the essentials are necessary, and you guys only want to hear the essentials, as the entirety of this book has tried to play an essential part of your... reading life? Yes. Reading life. (JK this entire thing is rambling)

I really tried, through my writing, to channel the emotions of the two boys into this book/fanfiction/whichever you prefer. It simply... to say to least, broke my heart. Writing this (I know I haven't shown it), murdered me. It killed me to *ahem* murder... them. (It blew a reasonable hole in my conscience, to be honest.) I had to deal with those deprecating, slightly excruciating thoughts that Sherlock held, and the reactions to those feelings that John had to assume were reasonable. I mean, John. I felt worse for John, out of all of this, I mean, yeah, Sherlock had it so much worse at the end, BUT I WAS FUCKING FRUSTRATED. COULDN'T HE STOP BEING A SELFISH BASTARD AND PICK UP THE PHONE?

I legit had an argument with myself about their fate. In the beginning, I was thinking, traditional Eleanor & Park ending - but then, the almighty opportunity presented itself...

Why not just... kill him?

It was logical. And it seemed only fitting to execute Sherlock in the way this all began - via drugs. Killing off Sherlock gave me sadness, but also a weird sense of closure, because I liked to imagine how devastated Siger must have been after he lost everything, including his son, and you realize that was all he truly deserved, that slimy son of a bitch. But SHERLOCK didn't deserve that. Mycroft didn't deserve that. And John definitely didn't deserve that.

John, in all of this, was hurt the most, because he didn't have a quick escape. He didn't have a way to get out; he was faced with Pickard's obsession over him, and Harry's alcoholism, and Emma's abuse, and Sherlock's drug addiction... And he couldn't hide ANYWHERE. He was STUCK. Maybe he was a sexy greaser who could fuck any girl he wanted, by the end. Maybe he was a muscled jock who built his reputation from the ground up. Maybe he was just fucking AWESOME. But he couldn't escape from his home life, because of Sherlock, and he couldn't escape from Sherlock... because of Sherlock.

If you asked me the three people who had it the worst in this book, it would be:

1. John

2. Sherlock

3. Siger

SIGER HAD IT REALLY BAD MMKay?

REALLY FUCKINg BAd

HE DESERVED IT ALL THO

HE DESERVED ALL OF IT

I MEAN THINK

He falls in love with this GORGEOUS WOMAN who helps him get sober again

THEN HER BROTHER DIES AT WAR, she drifts away...

He RELAPSES

TAKES HIS ANGER OUT ON HIS SON(S)

SHERLOCK BECOMES A RAGING HEROIN ADDICT, FOR WHICH HE PAYS A SUBSTANTIAL AMOUNT OF MONEY TO WATCH HIS SON DETERIORATE INTO A JUNKIE

HIS WIFE DIES, UNAWARE OF HIS CRIPPLING ALCOHOLISM AFTER SHE GETS ANGRY AT HIM FOR CALLING HIS YOUNGEST SON A PAINTED WHORE

HIS SON JUST FALLS OFF THE FUCKING WAGON, STARTING A HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP WITH A BOY HE LETS INTO HIS HOUSE - CONSTANTLY

MYCROFT DRIFTS AWAY

SHERLOCK RUNS AWAY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

HE'S LIKE "I FUCKED UP I FUCKED UP OH JESUS THE ONLY PERSON LEFT IN MY LIFE IS GONE"