Yours
He stopped texting me. I remember it well, that morning, I texted Sherlock and I received no reply. It wasn't unusual, it only meant he was busy and would text back later. But he never texted me again. I tried so many times. Just the usual things,
lets have dinner,
I like your funny hat
brainy is the new sexy
I miss you.
It was true, I missed him. I missed his mop of black curls, his gorgeous cheekbones, his big blue eyes. But I couldn't see him. After we faked my death for the last time, I moved into a flat in America, or as I should say "Apartment". I stayed with a friend, or at least, I knew what she liked. We got along well enough, with her working and me staying out of the way.
When Sherlock stopped texting me, I waited a month before deciding to find out what had happened. I didn't read the paper, nor did I usually watch the telly, so I hadn't known. I didn't know what had happened that fateful day on the rooftop of Bart's. A month of him not texting me made me curious. So, I moved. I had been in America for nearly a year, and I pined for England. I missed all of the elegance. America wasn't as sophisticated. Besides, I didn't know what people liked here. Well, no one other than my friend that I lived with.
We moved back to London and rented a flat there. I was much happier, more than I'd been in a while. Except for one thing, I still texted Sherlock each day, but to no avail. After about three weeks when my friend had a small part-time job, I went looking for Sherlock. I lived a few miles from 221 Baker Street, so I walked there and rang the buzzer. To my surprise, John answered. He was using a cane, and had a bit of an unattractive mustache growing. I blinked and said, "Hello there John, remember me?" John actually took a few steps back before answering. "Oh my... How many times are you going to die?" He hissed, stepping aside for me to come inside. I shed my fur coat to reveal my flowing dark blue blouse, black slacks, and high heeled shoes.
"Well it's just lovely to see you too." I commented dryly. "I never said it was good to see you anyway." John snapped. "Aw, are you jealous babe?" I teased. "How many times do I have to.. never mind." John sighed "If you're here to see Sherlock, you won't. He's..." he broke off, his voice breaking. John heaved a sigh. "Ms. Adler, Sherlock is dead." For a moment, I didn't breathe. The world stopped spinning, my heart wouldn't work the way it was supposed to, nothing was right, everything was upside down. No, No, No, No, No, No. This can't happen, it just can't. Then I steadied myself. I took a few breaths. I almost laughed. Sherlock? Dead? The idea is laughable. I smirked at John Watson. "Dr. Watson, I know you know what I used to be, but I'm sure you never thought me to be an idiot." I said, suppressing giggles. To think he nearly had me fooled! But Watson continued to look solemn.
"Of course not Ms. Adler, but, Sherlock Holmes is dead. He isn't here." Watson repeated "Of course he isn't here, that would be stupid." I said. "Is he with a friend?" I asked. "Sherlock doesn't have friends." "A relative, then?" "Mycroft is the only relative he has left, and I've already been through his place." "Well.." I paused, realizing that I was trying to think like Sherlock. "Ms. Adler, for the last time, Sherlock Holmes is dead! He is gone, you won't ever get a text back, no matter how long you wait. Yes, I know. I'm his only friend, Ms. Adler, I use his phone sometimes. I know your number is still there, used frequently as well. I'm sorry to say though, sorry down to the, uh, very deepest part of my soul to tell you this awful news, but it is true.
"Did you actually see him die?" I challenged him, and his answer surprised me. "Yes, actually, I did. I watched him jump that day." "Jump?" I asked, my heart sinking as I realized what must have happened. "Sherlock jumped off of the roof of Bart's right after speaking to me. He told me that the rumors were true, and that he had created Moriarty." John said. He took a breath to say more, but I cut across him. "Rumors, what rumors?" He then took only a few moments to fill me in on what had happened, how Moriarty had claimed to be a paid actor, hired by Sherlock. He explained the case which had caused Sherlock to be arrested as a suspect, then his and John's escape and them playing along with Moriarty's game. He then explained that for some reason, Sherlock had someone call John to get him away from Sherlock while he went to the roof and committed suicide in front of John when John returned.
"He's still alive." I said after a few moments of silence. "Sherlock Holmes is not a coward, he wouldn't-" "What? A coward?! Of course he isn't a coward you, you,... devil woman! How dare you come here and just... I see it now, you're coming here trying to get my hopes up then will have a laugh when I am disappointed again. I think you should leave, right now." John snapped. "Get your hopes up? John, I have to believe Sherlock is alive! He is all I have!" I cried, stung. "Had." John corrected me sharply. "Now get out of my flat!" I snatched up my coat and stalked to the door. "Sherlock was a great man, it's too bad he couldn't rub off on you. Do you think he would be so quick to give up on you?" I slammed the door and almost ran back to the flat.
When I returned, I sank down to the floor, leaning up against the door frame. An awful feeling settled over me and I dropped my head into my hands. Oh Sherlock, what have you done?
OoOoOoO
I waited, waited so long. For a year and a half I wondered and waited, longing to know what was to become of Sherlock Holmes. Then one evening, I was sitting on the couch, watching the telly. I had been sending texts to Sherlock, even after all of this time. I'd texted him earlier that day asking, " Are you hungry?" I had stopped expecting an answer, though, knowing it would be better not to expect it, then I wouldn't have my heart broken. But today must have been different. My phone buzzed, surprising me. I didn't get texts unless it was my friend letting me know she would be late tonight. I looked at my phone and stared at the message.
Let's have dinner -SH