Sim Heron had returned home a few days after the funeral for Holmes. However, home wasn't home anymore. It just didn't feel the same. She had hoped it would be a welcoming place, filling her with at least some of the happiness she had once had. Her family was welcoming, yes, but she was a broken woman now. As much as she hated to admit it, she was merely a shell of the woman she once was. The strong, independent Madam Simza she had been before was reduced to a heartbroken mess of a woman with wild hair and dark eyes. She could no longer look her loved ones in the eyes, afraid they would see through her lies, her troubles, or her dilemma.
She had lost two men who had meant the world to her, and it left her in shambles. One of them, though she was not willing to admit it to anyone but herself, she loved in a romantic way. He was strong, incredibly intelligent, quirky, and persistent, with a good humor and yet, he could also be so loving and caring. Sentiment. He had scoffed at the word and yet he was capable of caring deeply. He loved Watson as a brother. He cared for Mary on some level, even if it was only because she made his friend happy. He felt a lot of things for Irene Adler but that was a totally different animal entirely. The late Miss Adler was the woman, his woman, a woman Sim could never fill the shoes of and she knew that, accepted it. It didn't stop her from feeling the way she did, though. But at least now, he could be with her, wherever they were in the afterlife or wherever he had believed they would end up.
She feared the mere mention of their names and did it as little as possible. In the Romani religion, to utter the name of a loved one who has passed away would draw them back to this world, this plane of existence. All gypsies fear the dead. To bring back a loved one would alter the universe, tearing them from their reincarnated life. It was against the rules of nature. Those who do not follow the rules go a dark place after they pass, stuck between the veils of this earth, forever to walk the lonely road of immortality as a distressed spirit.
To say the least, Sim feared for her life. She feared that the mere constant thought of a dead man would never let her sleep again, and make her a ghost instead of passing on to be reincarnated like the rest of her beloved family and clan.
She had told her family that Rene was nowhere to be found, that he had disappeared. She desperately feared that they would think less of him if she had told them the absolute truth. To gypsies, family was the most important thing. Family image above all else… And so, she lied for her dearest and late brother. It was all she could do. It cut her up to lie and prance around on eggshells but she needed to, it was the right thing to do. She seriously believed that one day, when she and Rene met each other once again, in the gray havens, he would thank her from the bottom of his heart.
However, there came a point that lying to her family became too much to handle. She had too much on her mind, too much for her strong but feminine heart to carry. The guilt was far too great and it forced her to admit something for the first time. She had to leave, there was no other alternative. She had been with her family for almost a year and a half since Sherlock Holmes had dragged her into the mix of things. Rene may have been gone for a long time now but the pain didn't ease, not even for a moment. Day and night she thought of him…
Late one night after everyone had gone to sleep, she decided to leave. She packed her bag and was careful to step around her uncle and cousins as she left her tent. She threw on the hat that had once been Doctor John Watson's and looked up into the fading moonlight. Dawn would arrive in a few hours and if she was going to leave, now would be the time. Wrapping the scarf she wore around her neck to keep out the cold, she began her journey. She took the first step to a new life and smiled a little bit as her boot touched the horseshoe packed dirt. "This is good for you, Simza," she reminded herself, and turned to look at the dying fire and quiet tents that she would surely miss.
On her way out she had left a note on the makeshift table in her tent, saying that she would be okay but she couldn't stay. She harbored too much pain and she needed to find herself again, get away from it all, and maybe one day she would be able to return. She made it clear that she loved everyone and that they were not the reason she had run away. She needed air, needed to breathe. She would go back to reading palms and telling fortunes in London to make a living. She would write them the moment she had the chance.
The train to London seemed like a lifetime. The only thing that kept her mind from things was a sketch that she had done of Holmes and Watson. If felt like a lifetime ago that she had been with them. A sad smile found her lips as she folded the paper up and slipped it into the pocket of her corduroy jacket. She missed those days. She honestly did.
A sigh escaped Sim's lips and she rested her head on the cushion while looking out of the window at the grassy landscape. Mere moments passed before she had drifted into sleep. She found herself lost in a good dream, not one of the nightmares that usually kept her awake at night.
Yes, she had made the right choice to leave. Things were already looking up and for that, she was grateful.