He's a little startled by the offer, and he almost considers saying no because that seems so private, even if Holmes really couldn't be very private in it at all. But then if Watson's offering, he really shouldn't turn it down, and it's better if they share this, if they can. So he leans forward and takes it in hand, holding it carefully.
The last thing Holmes ever wrote down.
Fatherhood must be making him this ridiculously sentimental.
He skims the letter and then reads it again, a little more slowly. What ridiculous nonsense is his first thought. No ending could be more congenial than this? Walking to his death? About to be tipped over a cliff? He would say such a thing, but then he reminds himself that it isn't as if Holmes could pour himself wholeheartedly into this thing. He hands it back to Watson and leans back in his seat, pensive.
"I don't envy having to write that letter," he says finally. "How do you even begin to -- to say goodbye if you can't do it plainly?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-01-24 02:52 am (UTC)The last thing Holmes ever wrote down.
Fatherhood must be making him this ridiculously sentimental.
He skims the letter and then reads it again, a little more slowly. What ridiculous nonsense is his first thought. No ending could be more congenial than this? Walking to his death? About to be tipped over a cliff? He would say such a thing, but then he reminds himself that it isn't as if Holmes could pour himself wholeheartedly into this thing. He hands it back to Watson and leans back in his seat, pensive.
"I don't envy having to write that letter," he says finally. "How do you even begin to -- to say goodbye if you can't do it plainly?"