Prove me wrong, ordinary Sherlock. Prove that you’re not like them. I want you to prove that you know the truth, thatwe are one and the same, in both life and in death. Prove that you’re not ordinary, convince me.
I know you’re dead. I know you’re only human. I’ve always known that, even when it seemed like you didn’t.
And I know you’re never coming back.
Because these are facts and they can’t be changed, and I know that. But I don’t believe it. Because there’s a difference between knowing and believing.
I know you’re dead, Sherlock. But I don’t believe it.
I believe in you, and I will wait for you.
There is clarity in loneliness. To feel nothing is to know everything, to love no one is to see everyone for who they really are.
It’s okay if you hurt me sometimes, Sherlock, or forget me sometimes, because my job isn’t really to be your friend. You already have one of those, and a person like you wouldn’t need another. I suppose my job is to just…to just be there for you whenever you do need me.
I’d do anything for you, and of course you already know that, but sometimes I don’t think you really believe it. When I say anything, I mean anything.
I’m not invincible. I’m only human. But you know that. Obviously.
In fact…you always knew that.
Even before I did.
I wonder what it would be like to tell a person’s entire life story at a glance. How could you do that without any emotion, Sherlock? To know so much and not find any meaning in it? To look at the world, and see everything, and understand nothing. I mean, well, of course you understand it. You take what you see and you make deductions, brilliant deductions…but that doesn’t mean anything, does it? That doesn’t mean you understand.
No, you don’t feel things that way.
At least, I thought you didn’t.
Happiness, love, empathy. Emotions that are as simplistic as they are uninteresting. And so easy to fake. And people…so easily manipulated. All you have to do is appeal to whatever mask they are wearing; and everyone wears a mask, no exceptions. Hiding your real feelings makes everything easier.
I should never have let Sherlock in on the cases. I should never have trusted him, never believed in him. I was wrong, so wrong, about him. He was a fraud. He always was.
But somehow, I still believe in him. Maybe I’m stupid. Maybe it’ll cost me my job. Maybe I’m still wrong. But I don’t care.
I believe in Sherlock Holmes.
We were destined to play this game together, Sherlock. Let’s do this forever and ever and ever. Nothing can stop us, not even death. Because we’re not normal, we’re not ordinary. We are each other. Only I’m the man that you could have become.