"I met a man. A genius. Absolutely brilliant." A young girl told her best friend Harry Watson, "We ran off to the stars together. He called ME impossible."
"And then what happened?" Harry asked.
"He changed, same brilliant man, different face. I didn't want to stay anymore."
"Is that why you came home?"
"Well Rose and Mickey always talked about that man from the stars coming back and whisking Rose away, I never believed them. And then her and Jackie went missing. And now a man turns up at my doorstep and shows me the impossible, and changes, and it was all too much. So no. Him changing wasn't the problem, I missed home."
"And you missed me?" Harry asked, taking the rip.
"Shut up..."
"You know you love me Clara."
"Yes, I do..."
"Oh honey, I missed you." Harry looked at her lips, "I love you."
She pulled the brown haired girl in close for kiss, holding her tight in a warm embrace.
10 months later
John Watson was off-duty. On leave. Allowed home from years of dodging bullets for a while to see his sister get married. To tell you the truth, he never really got on with his sister, but Harry was family, so he would always be there for her. Even in the worst of times. But this, for her, was actually one of the best. She was marrying one of her childhood friends. Clara Oswald. Clara taking their name. To become Clara Watson and spend out the rest of there days together.
Not that he wasn't happy for her, he was proud of her, she was finally settling down, still with the alcohol though. But he couldn't feel comfortable about being home, he missed duty. He missed being able to save lives. It was likely this was the last time he planned on coming home, but it was for a good reason. For Harry.
Clara looked at her fiancée in astonishment, neither of them had walked down the isle, neither of them wanted to. Instead they both had decided to walk the opposite sides of the church. They had the little walk, just not in it's traditional way. She was stunned at the beauty of her golden-haired girl. Reaching the altar with her long white gown.
Any ordinary priest would've turned them down, but this one was a peculiar sort. He knew Clara from days in the past and agreed. Jackie's friend actually. Well, more than friends. But that didn't matter now. Clara felt pitiful at the fact Rose wasn't there with her, but as she looked to Harry in blind love, she knew wherever she was, she was happy. Besides, Mr. Mickey Smith was sitting on the aisle at the back with his new wife beaming right back at her. It made her feel safer with him around. And his wife was kick-ass.
Harry looked her girl up and down one last time, her simple but elegant robe resting on the shoulders, a perfect fit. She thought to herself thank god her brother was there to walk her down the church, otherwise she might've run away out of nerves. Just now looking at Clara she knew she wasn't worthy. She didn't actually know the man who walked Clara down her side, but he left briefly afterwards, not saying a word.
John smiled from his seat, watching the two women on the dance floor. Their first dance was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. And he had seen so much pain before. This was a refreshing sight. Clara would do her good, maybe his sister might stop her drinking.
Clara smiled, staring into Harry's eyes, willing to be locked in them forever. She knew this woman had seen pain, her brother was a soldier for gods sake, but none of this showed tonight. All she could see was happiness, and a hint of boredom. Giggling, Clara's grin widened, only Harry Watson could say that her own wedding bored her.
Harry knew that sight. It was the 'only Harry Watson' face. Mickey had told her it grasped Clara's face half the time. "What's me now?" She whispered.
"Bored at her own wedding." Clara answered back, muttering under her breath so no one heard.
"You see right through me don't you?"
"I love you, that's why."
"I love you too."
She couldn't believe she had been so lucky to get a girl like Clara Oswald (Well, Watson now). She pulled her in for a kiss, a soft, tender kiss that lasted until the words died down.
5 years later
"Come on Harry. He's okay."
"HE'S NOT BLEEDIN' OKAY CLAR, HE'S STILL THERE... IT'S BEEN AT LEAST FIVE YEARS SINCE I LAST SAW HIM. I HAVEN'T HEARD A WORD FROM HIM IN FOUR. I DON'T KNOW IF HE'S ALIVE, I DON'T KNOW WHERE HE IS AND I DON'T KNOW IF HE'S OKAY. HE'S MY BROTHER." Harry screamed from the corner. She was curled up in a ball, crying her eyes out. It was a usual thing for her to get drunk, but not like this. She hadn't uttered a word about John Watson for years and out of the blue she comes home, late, kicking and screaming about him. Clara wondered if she was having a break down. Clara couldn't help but feel helpless around her. The love of her life was breaking down and all she could do was say it was going to be okay when clearly it wasn't. She wanted to believe it herself. In some ways, she was telling herself that they'd be okay. But she didn't believe it.
Harry knew exactly what she was saying, she knew exactly what was going on, she felt that way too, but it wasn't just something you said. The second she got home she knew she was drunk, but she couldn't stop the crying this time, she couldn't stop the kicking and screaming, she couldn't stop the pity. Not this time.
2 years later
"I'm just glad your home." Harry said, smiling at her brother.
"I got shot."
"Yes well your ruddy stupid, but your home. And that's what matters."
Silence.
"I still can't believe you did that. Seven years, and then suddenly it's all gone."
"I don't want to put her through that John. Mickey'll take care of her, and his wife. What's her face? Laura? Lara...? Oh Martha."
"But you loved her Harriet."
"I didn't deserve her."
More silence. For a few minutes. And another few. And another few. And another few.
"You know she was always talking about this genius." she said finally. "She called him the man from another world. 'He was brilliant' she'd say. 'real clever. Like the one Rose talked about'"
"What about him?"
"It's just, I never found out who the man was. I always thought that maybe, just maybe I'd meet her man from mars, but I don't want to put her through me. You know that John. That's why you don't make friends. You never want to have to make them put up with your problems. I guess that's the problem with us Watson's, never could stand to see we put a man's life in danger. You went into the war to help people. not to kill 'em. I left Clara because I saw her wasting away every day she was with me. And I couldn't bare it."
Silence again.
"Please, just keep that in mind John. I did love her."
"Right. That's why you gave me the phone."
"I can't look at it. Besides, you need it more than me. And considering you're not taking any help from me and I guarantee you're not gonna wanna see me for the next few months, I want you to have it. Besides, you're the one who got shot. A gift is expected to be given to the man who's injured. You're a war hero now John."
"Poor example of one."
"Don't you dare say that, you never ever wanted to shoot a man. You barely did. You saved lives John Watson. You are a hero."
2 months later
I met a man, a genius.
I'm living in a flat with
him now apparently.
I don't think he's your
man from the stars Harry
but I think you'd get a
kick out of him. I'm
sorry. Come back home
John Watson.
As much as I love
you John you know
your answer. I made it
quite clear that day. You
refuse help from me,
but get it from a
complete stranger.
I'm sure I'll meet him
someday, but for
now I just don't
want to pull you down
with me.
Harriet Watson
That's hardly fair,
you didn't want me to
stay with you, you
don't want to see me
yet your happy to pay
for my bills?
You're my sister Harry,
I didn't want to take
money from you. I
wanted to be sure you
were okay. If this
is the last conversation
we're to have, then I'll
tell you. His name is
Sherlock Holmes and
the address is 221B
Baker Street.
If you ever feel you want
to see me again, maybe
if you've cleaned your
act up, maybe if
you just want to say
hello, you'll come
to see me again.
Until the day you make
the move, I can't
see you Harry.
I love you, so please
please please think
about this.
John Watson
No. I'll see you whenever
John Watson. But never
like this. Tell your
boyfriend your sister
sends her best. When you
see Clara tell her I
really did love her. But
I am NOT coming back
like this. And if you
refuse my help that's
your own problem.
Goodbye brother.
Harry Watson
I love you too John but
not right now would've
been simple enough.
Goodbye for now.
John Watson
1 year later
"She did love you Clara."
"I know, it's just something deep inside me saying I didn't try hard enough to keep her with me." Clara said to a now rehabilitated John Watson. He'd been living with his roommate for a year now, a famous Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The world's only consulting detective. He had also been working on cases with him as an assistant.
"Harry wasn't one to want to be kept. She never wanted to put anyone in harms way. She said that was the Watson's way."
"You do it to then?"
"Ask Sherlock. I've saved his life too many times."
"Did he save you?"
"Let's just say he was a genius that showed me the wonders of the world, and I came to realise how brilliant I could be."
"Oh god she told you didn't she?"
"About what."
"The man from the stars."
"She said you went on about it all the time."
"Yes, but I also said never to tell anyone. Only Harry Watson."
"Yes. Only Harry Watson." He sighed. Pondering, he looked up at her, and then asked "What is the story behind that anyway?"
"Oh, it's silly. It's just a thing."
"No go on."
"Alright but don't tell anyone, especially that Sherlock Holmes friend of yours, he might explode if he heard this. It would mess with everything he knows."
"Go on..."
"You remember Rose right? I mean Of course you do, you had a crush on her, and then Mickey got her and you got so upset you cried over her during the..."
"The man from the stars, Clara."
"Right. So she went missing for a while, when she was twentyish, that year where people thought Mickey had murdered her. And then she came back telling us all about the man from the stars whisking her away to far off lands. And then she said by far off lands she meant Europe, and by from the stars she meant Australia. Total bull-crap. But to me, she told the truth. It really was a man from the stars, like an alien. Apparently we met 'im, the first time she came home, where he'd got the timing about wrong and landed a year late. You remember? That year we gathered round the TV because of the spaceship that apparently crashed into big ben."
"That northern bloke?"
"Funny thing was, I said that as well. She laughed and just said lots of planets had a north. Well then apparently he changed, his whole face, he became a lot more handsome, his whole face changed, you remember that bloke we saw with her and Mickey walking in and out of the police box with? You know that 'madman in a box'?"
"God yes, you were jealous you didn't get to go with."
"Yes, well that was his spaceship. And then he took her off into all of time and space. I don't know what happened after that, all Mickey says is that she's happy now. Funny thing was she referred to him as a doctor. So I immediately thought of you."
"Well that's... a great science-fiction story Clara, but it still doesn't explain your man from the stars."
"I was gettin' to that. Thing is, Mickey's wife is always goin' on about the one day all of the doctor's companion's found each other. And there she was. Rose. Apparently Mickey was there too, he don't talk about it though. She talked about her adventures with the man from mars, she had a crush on him but he was always hung up on her. Rose I mean. He took Martha to see Shakespeare, and New York, and New New New New New New York, and some planet where he ended up with his own daughter, and there was walking fish people. Thing is, I never believed any of them. Not Rose. Not Mickey. Not Martha. That is until he turned up at my doorstep, different face, same man. I asked to see the universe and he showed me, I stepped into his time stream, I saw planets and alien invasions and ghosts and monsters, but I never forgot home. Not ever. And I never forgot Harry's face. And when it came to him changing his face again, I didn't want to be there anymore. So I came home to her. And then she left."
"Your man from mars, your genius, he was an alien?"
"Yes."
"And you're sure I'm never allowed to tell Sherlock?"
"Maybe to see his head fall off. But any other reason, nah."
John Smiled.
"His name."
"Huh?"
"What was your alien's name?"
"Just the doctor."
1 year later
The swimming pool incident left John in shock. He'd been attached to a bomb, and then was just let go. Jim Moriaty was a mad man, anyone could see that. Almost as mad as that Harold Saxon had been to run for prime minister. He got it, but after shooting the president of the US, he was killed himself apparently by his own wife. Clara's words had never left his head. All he could think was of a mad man with a box. Well, Moriaty was certainly a madman, and he had a box of bombs. But it wasn't Clara's madman. Even Anderson would've known that. He looked on, thinking about what Clara had said. But other thoughts of Moriaty and the swimming pool bounced in the way. It had gotten the point even Sherlock was asking if John was okay.
Mickey had taken John out for a meal, hoping that might clear his head a bit.
"Clara says you don't talk about the brilliant man in a police box."
"He stole my girlfriend, showed her the world, showed me the world and then I came home. I got a wife now. I'm good."
"But you saw more than the world, didn't you?"
"And?"
"Well it's got to have been amazing."
"Well that's the thing, it's unbelievable."
"Go on, after the things I put up with Sherlock."
"It's bigger than that John."
"I'm an adult, I can handle a story."
"I've seen 18th century France on a spaceship in the middle of the 51st century with clockwork robots trying to cut of the heads of Madame de Pompadour, I've seen anything plastic come to life and a bin swallowed me, I've seen aliens try to take over downing street, I've lived in a parallel universe. What you do with your years before Sherlock?"
"I saved people's lives."
Mickey smirked.
"And that's what he did too, as many as he could. You'd get on with him great, Sherlock not so much. Might start an argument about the laws of physics."
"Yes. Well. You know him."
"Not as well as you do."
"I live with the man, you put up with the violin when he's angry."
"I've got Martha. Girl scares the living daylights out of me half the time. And then we see Clara on weekends. That reminds me, when did you last speak to Harry?"
"I texted her after I almost exploded, I said I almost exploded. She didn't reply."
"Two years and she still hasn't come back."
"Well, she's alive, and she'll survive."
"Positive thinking there."
1 year and a half later
"I don't know Clara. I just don't know."
"But he was clever."
"Apparently it was all a lie."
"Don't believe that John, you sound like you're giving up."
"I AM giving up. there's nothing I can do. No madman in a box can save me."
"But John..."
"No buts."
"How about you text H... Harry?"
"It's been about a year since I last texted her saying I almost died, she didn't respond to that. What on earth would make her respond to anything else?"
"Just try it."
Harry. I know.
I know you don't
want to speak to
me. I know you
want to be clear of
the past. I know you
don't want to be
a burden. Well,
thing is I want you to
be. Sherlock... He's
dead. I'm sure you've
seen it on the news,
"Great detective, all
a hoax."
"Liar commits suicide."
Thing is Harry I don't
believe it, and I
need you here.
I'm sorry for whatever
I did. I can't believe
you didn't even text
me back when I said I
almost exploded. Didn't
you hear about that one?
Well. That was a fun
story. All included
him though.
I miss you Harry.
We all do.
Come home.
Help me.
John Watson
"You sent it?" Clara asked.
"Yeh." He answered. "She won't answer."
"Better she knows from you than me."
"Wrong." A voice said.
"Excuse me?" Clara answered.
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, which I rarely ever am, you're her ex-wife, I'm also presuming you're talking about Harry Watson, neighbourhood drinker. She bloody loved you honey. Mary." A blonde woman, short, around John's height held out her hand for them to shake.
Two years later
"And she's not coming to the wedding?" Mary asked, watching a fairly disappointed John Watson and his buddy Sherlock Holmes.
"She hasn't answered me in five years Mary, no point in saying anything."
"You didn't tell your sister I was alive?" Sherlock asked, about to throw a little hissy-fit that John's text messages about him didn't include the miraculous return of Sherlock Holmes.
"Right you know what? I'll text her..."
Harry. Sherlock's alive
again, I'm sure you've
read in the news. Well.
I guess I no longer need
your help, considering
Mary did your job. Well
congratulations. You
managed to avoid me for
at least five years. Thank
you for being the most
supportive sister in the
world.
You don't want to dump
your problems on me,
that's why you left, but
you said you'd always
be there.
Me and Mary are getting
married.
Sherlock's the best man.
Everyone I knows going
to be there.
I want you there, as much
of an arrogant sod you
are you're still my sister
and I still love you.
At least come back for
this.
Please.
John Watson
A few months later
"She's not here, she's not coming, we solved a murder before it happened and she missed it. Leave it be Mary."
"I can't, she's your sister."
"Just please leave it."
"She should be here John."
"I agree with Mary, John, as much as I disapprove of anything my brother does, Infact I go as far as to call my brother my archenemy, I'd still want him and an event that included something like this." Sherlock input, he began to rather like Mary, and agreed with her on a lot of things.
"I love your sister John, but even I can't believe she'd do something as stupid as this." Clara said, looking at John with her big round puppy eyes.
"Look please would all of you just shut up. Just leave it. She's not here. She wanted to erase herself from our lives and she succeeded apparently. Just leave it be."
Mickey took everyone who knew Harry away, whilst everyone who hadn't noticed the huddle had remained either in their seats or on the dance floor. Only Mary and Sherlock remained with him.
"Give me her number." Mary said.
"What?" Her number. Give it to me.
She typed it into her own phone, and began to send a message:
Hi. I'm your sister-
in-law. John ain't gonna
say he's upset but
I know damn right he
is. He don't know what I
know about you. But
I'm still disappointed.
Even a madman in a
box should be able to
turn up on time for his
friend's brother's wedding.
He's upset. You've missed
out on enough. Clara
still pines on after you and
it's been five years. Sherlock
even misses you and he never
met you.
I'm not ruddy happy. Get
your arse down here to say you
love your brother. Or no
more chances. I'd love
to get to know you better
than I do, but right now
I want to punch you. Along
with half the people in here.
Mary Watson
"I sent her a message." She said swiftly tucking her phone away in her bra so no one could read it.
"And?" John asked.
"No reply."
And there wasn't one. She never turned up to the wedding. Only a card on the present table was left in her name, with the words 'to good memories' in it. It also included a hundred pounds, but it wasn't enough to make up for five years without his sister.
Two years later
To tell the tale of Moriaty would take this story off topic, this was never about Moriaty. Only ever about a woman named Harriet and her brother John. Yes, Moriaty made his return, with a swift 'miss me?' but that isn't the point. Nor will I say how they resolved that issue. Only that it took the sound of a fourth knock at the door of 221B to resolve the matter.
Harriet did return. She turned up one day at 221B. Sherlock had no idea who she was, but reluctantly let her in when she said the two words he loved most of all: "John Watson."
John arrived wondering what the fuss was about, took one look at his sister, and stormed out again. It took persuasion from Clara, Sherlock and Mary to make him go back. To stop him from doing something as stupid as to never talk to her again.
"You came back."
"So did he." She said, pointing at Sherlock.
"With you it was worse, I knew you were alive. And it was six years."
"I've been travelling."
"With who."
"A madman."
"Let me guess, in a box?"
"How d'you know?"
"That's a phrase to be spread throughout the years of you not being here when I needed you."
"Well I was there."
"No you weren't."
"Yes. I was. Who did you think told Mike Stamford to be in that park that day? Or who directed Mary to you? Or left the envelope on the table? I've been there."
"Not really."
"I got you to Sherlock and Mary, didn't I?"
"You weren't there..."
"I was travelling the stars, getting sober."
"And what about Clara, huh? Your love?"
"I still love her. I just did need to get my act straight."
"What makes you think I haven't moved on!?" Clara yelled from the hallway. "To be honest I'm considering whether to run in there and punch you myself!"
"Darlin' only Harry Watson loves you as much as to take an entire universe and put it into a ring for you."
"What ring!?"
"I'll get to that!" She yelled back, she looked to John. "I still love you brother, and I'm sorry I wasn't physically there. But I brought you something back as well."
She held out in her had a charm to attach to a chain for men, in which sparkling dust glittered away.
"It's stardust. Real as well. It's from the sun when it burnt up. The doctor showed me that."
"Who is this doctor?"
"One of the greatest men I have ever known. But nothing in comparison to my brother."
1 month later
"And we're back to this." Clara said, beaming. Looking down at the rings on her finger. "No more drunk fits this time?"
"I promise." Harry said. "And I do love you, you know."
"I know. I love you too."
"I saw us you know, in the future. I got to meet us. We're happy."
"Oh are we now?"
"Yes. And we live in a big house with a swimming pool and plenty of room for a sauna with three kids and Mary and John bring over our two nieces all the time. Oh, we have two boys and one girl. Elliot, Michael and Georgia."
"I always wanted a boy named Elliot."
"Good for you, you get one. What about Rose?"
"I met her again you know, we went to the other universe by accident, burned up at least four other universes in the process, we caught a glimpse of her and I yelled hello. She's okay. She has her own doctor now, one that'll grow with her. Then we had to seal the gap properly. I got a universe to be shrunk for ring size, which was difficult considering they're infinite. But, as you can see, it looks gorgeous on you. Only the universe is good enough for Clara Oswald."
"Only Harry Oswald would say that."
John looked at Sherlock and Mickey chatting to do with something about hacking. No one ever bothered explaining to Sherlock about the madman, it was best really. He might've exploded if they had told him. All John could think of was the strange man walking Clara up the isle on the first wedding. He must've been the madman, and even then he couldn't guess that. Well. It didn't matter now. His sister was back, that's all that really did matter to this story.