A moment after John presses “send” on his last text, he feels a pair of wiry arms wrap themselves around his shoulders. Sherlock’s arms. John’s a bit startled at first before he recalls where he is.  “What—?”

    “Don’t forget, please,” Sherlock whispers. The request is almost comically childish coming from a grown man’s mouth.

    John smiles weakly. He knows what Sherlock is getting at: a person is an amalgamation of all of their experiences combined. Erasing a memory like that could erase an entire facet of his personality. “We can’t all be as lucky as you.”

    “You’re right—I have the only ‘John H. Watson’ in the world.”  Sherlock shuts his eyes.  “I don’t want someone else.”

    “And I’ve told you before,” John says, folding one of his hands over Sherlock’s, running his thumb across Sherlock’s knuckles, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Scene from: http://textsfromjohnandsherlock.tumblr.com/