Ashes to Ashes.
New Year's Day.
A time of new beginnings and optimism.
Not for us.
Not this year.
This year began appallingly. After the joys of last year, becoming a mum again, seeing my little brother turn 2 and seeing John and Mary become parents again to little Rosie, I whole heartedly expected this year to be nothing but the best. How wrong was I?
It was late in the evening. Dan had just put Anthony to bed and I had just finished feeding Felicity. She was a healthy 6-month-old by this point. After feeding Flick (as we called her) I settled her down in my arms and put the television on. Dan came back in and we watched a movie together. It was about half nine in the evening when Mycroft phoned us.
The news was horrible.
Mary had been shot and had died in John's arms.
I just sat in shocked silence. I had seen Mary earlier. She'd taken the kids whilst I had run a few errands around town. And now she was dead. I just couldn't understand.
"What about the kids?" I asked Daniel, after I found my voice again.
"Molly has them. Sherlock's on his way back. John sent him away."
"Oh Dan!" I said, and the tears began to flow.
"I know. Abi, it's horrible." He held me close and wiped away my tears.
"She was like a mum to me. Right from the start. When we thought Sherlock was dead, she would just come and sit and hold my hands. She wouldn't say anything, she would just sit there and hold my hands. She was the nicest, smartest, most caring person I ever knew and now she's…" but I couldn't finish the sentence.
Dan just held me tighter. We both knew that the world was definitely a darker place now.
A few hard and difficult weeks later, we gathered for Mary's funeral. As John was a catholic, it was held in a catholic church on the outskirts of London. Mary had loved the country and to be placed to rest in nature was suited to her best.
As we entered the church, we saw the 2 elder Watson children sat with Molly at the front of the church. Baby Rosie (who was 3 weeks older than Flick) was being held by Mrs H. Emily was sat comforting her younger siblings, Johnny stood with Elijah off to one side. Anthony walked up to his cousin and gave him a hug. Dan and I went and offered our condolences to John and found somewhere to sit. Flick stirred slightly as I sat down but didn't wake up. I couldn't imagine not being there to see my baby girl grow up or leaving her without a mum. How was John going to cope, bringing Rosie on his own? Well of course wasn't on his own, he had his family around him, but I was confident that at the moment he was feeling pretty alone.
Molly came and sat next to me. She had Christopher on her knee. She just looked at me, holding back tears. I smiled sadly and smoothed down Christopher's hair. Then he got down and went to find his nephew.
"No Sherlock?" I asked.
Molly shook her head. "He's not coping, Abi." She whispered. "He's blaming himself. Said he should have protected her. Said he made a vow." She composed herself. "Abi, I'm scared he's going to start using again."
I wrapped one arm round her and gave her a sort of hug. "It won't come to that Mum. He's better than he was with Magnussen and the wedding. He's got a family and a wife now. He wouldn't do that to you."
Molly nodded. "Thanks Abi. Would you talk to him though? He'll listen to you. He always has done."
"Anything for you, mum, you know that." I paused. "Do you want to hold Flick?"
She nodded and I passed her over. I then rested my head on Dan's shoulder. Slowly everyone started to come in. Even Granny and Grandpa had come over for the service. They regarded John as a son and wanted to support him. Dan got Anthony to come and sit down and he sat on his Dad's knee. Then music began to play over the church and we stood up. I turned to look at the door and John and Greg were at the front of the church, carrying Mary's coffin. John had no expression on his face, just sheer concentration. I was so amazed at him, not only the physical strength to carry that coffin, but the mental strength he would have needed to do it. Lestrade had agreed to do it to support his friend. He had been there when Mary had been shot, so had Mycroft (but Mycroft didn't do this sort of thing). They brought the coffin all the way to the front of the church and placed in on the table there. It was hard to think that Mary was in there, cold. I liked to think that she was happy and was in a good place. The service was lovely, a real testament to Mary and her life. Amber bravely got up and stood at the front of the church to talk about her mum. She had to stop several times to compose herself but she did a sterling job. My maternal instinct kicked in and all I wanted to do was to give her a hug. Molly was crying silently next to me, Dan looked sombre and I had a few tears rolling down my face. Anthony generally looked sad, I wasn't sure that he completely understood but it was humbling to see him like that. Then came the end of the service. John had spoken to Emily and I the week before and asked if we could sing at the end of the service. He said he would have asked Amber and Emily to do it but after her eulogy, he didn't think she would manage. Emily turned around to look at me and I nodded. Molly had given me Felicity back earlier after she had started to fuss so I stood up with Flick and made my way to the microphone at the front, quickly touching the side of Mary's coffin.
We had agreed and checked with John what we were going to sing. Because the couple had 3 young children aged between 12 and 6 months, we had chosen 'You'll never walk alone' sung in the style of Alfie Boe and Michael Ball. Despite the situation we were in, it was really nice to sing with Emily again and it mirrored their wedding, where the four of us had sung for them. And now, Emily and I were singing Mary out. John and Greg took the front of the coffin again, accompanied by the other 4 they had walked in with. Behind them walked Amber holding her little sister in her arms with her little brother walking next to her. As we finished the final note, Emily slipped her hand into my free one and squeezed tightly. I returned the squeeze and gave her a hug. I then went and sat by Dan and Anthony again. Dan gave me a hug and told me I was brave and that he was proud of me. Anthony gave me a hug and then went off to find Elijah and Hamish.
Mary's wake was being held at their flat in the suburbs around London. It was just an intimate party. Just John's closest friends and family. That invitation was extended to Sherlock but he never showed. Like Molly, I was beginning to worry about him. I told Dan I was going to go round to the flat and look in on him. I made my excuses to John and hopped on the tube, with Flick, to 221B Baker Street.
Mrs Hudson was out at the wake so I let myself in using the key under the mat. I had hidden it there when I was a kid, so that I could always get back in if I left my keys behind and Sherlock had never noticed- or so I thought. The door knocker was still at an angle so I knew that Mycroft hadn't come calling. I pushed the door open and made my way up to his flat. I knocked on the inner door and pushed it open.
"Dad?" I asked.
"Abigail?" he called back, "What are you doing here?"
I walked in further, "I came to check on you. We were worried."
"There's no need." He said, coming into view. He looked an absolute mess. His hair was long and unkempt. It looked like he hadn't washed it in days. He hadn't shaved and he was wandering round in his pyjamas. It was worse than what Molly had described. "I'm absolutely fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
"One of your friends has just died. Even the great Sherlock Holmes is allowed human emotions at a time like this?"
"I keep telling you and everyone else, I am above human emotions. Death is natural, to be expected. It's something that humans can be relied upon to do."
"Not like this, Dad, not in this way. Not this cruel or this sudden and not to people like Mary and John."
"John doesn't want to know me anyway."
"He's grieving Sherlock." I said curtly, "And the two of you are acting like five year old children!"
"No we're not! He doesn't need me around. He needs to grieve and I'm not so we're just giving each other space."
"You need each other." I replied, adamantly. "You need him and he needs you. No matter what he's said. He needs you, Dad."
He smiled weakly. "My work needs me."
"More than your family, your friends?" I asked, appalled by his reply. "Mum is scared that you are going to start using again, you have 2 children, both dependant on their dad to show them the right way. You have two grandchildren who would really like their grandpa Sherlock to be around."
"And I need to work!" he said. "Like I have always said, my brain is like a racing train that will rust or falter if it stops to work. Yes Mary's dead and that's all very sad, but now it's time to move on. You can all grieve and cry til the sun comes up and the day starts again but I'm going to work and live and survive."
I shook my head slowly. I had never seen Sherlock like this, not in all the time that I had known or lived with him. It was scary and I had no idea what to do.
"You're a machine, Sherlock, and I don't know where you are going, to hell or some other place. But you are going to destroy the life you have built, the family you have gained. People care about you, Sherlock, people care. I care but if you continue to do this, to cut people out, to leave them behind, then I'm going to have to care from a distance." And I walked out of the flat.
Molly had been wrong. I couldn't reach Sherlock, no one could. I doubt even Mycroft could, if he was willing to, reach him now. Mary was dead. John was alone. That's all I could think about right now. I had to be there for John, for Amber, for Joseph and Rosie. My friends needed me. If my Dad was on a path to self-destruction, then he could do that. My friend's needed me.
Mary's death seems to have driven a wedge between one of the greatest friendships I had ever seen. I don't know if Sherlock and John can come back from this and if they do, at what cost?
THE END
