A long silence hung like a hot, damp blanket on all the people attending the funeral. The simple black coffin stood right before the blogger, and he stared. Then, at long length, he looked up. "Dear Mrs Hudson, Molly, Lestrade. Mycroft." He cleared his throat, and continued. "Sherlock." His voice broke, but bravely the words kept coming. "And all the press."
He took a deep breath, trembling. "W-when Sherlock and I were waiting at a restaurant, erm, waiting for the bad cabbie to arrive, we had a chat. I asked whether he had a girlfriend, or boyfriend..." Someone on the room giggled, but was quickly hushed by some others. "He had not. He said: "John, you should know I consider myself married to my work." All that mattered to him, was his work. He lived for his work, his deductions. His showing-off. It's what he did best." A little quiver crept in his voice, as he looked at the silently crying women on the front row, Molly and Mrs. Hudson. Lestrade's face was very white, eager to hear more his eyes were constantly fixed on John's face, Mycroft just stared at the floor, his umbrella beside him.
"It was what he loved to do. He didn't care what others thought, said, felt. Just his work, that-that counted. You, press, took that. Just waiting for an opportunity to trample down a man you did not understand, but hailed just a week ago. Of course, you are all idiots." He looked across the room. It was very quiet. Bitterly he added: "Don't worry, practically everyone is."
A little smile appeared on the elder woman's face when she recognised the familiar words. Seeing this, John continued with renewed courage. "By taking this man's work from him, you took him from us, his friends."
He took another deep breath, trying to conceal the clear anger in his voice. "And congratulations, you succeeded." In the back of the room, the door opened and a woman in a suit hastily walked out of the door, followed by two cameramen. After the door was closed, John's anger had not vanished. "Eliminate all lies, and whatever remains, however displeasing and unfortunate, must be the truth. You see but you did not really observe." Suddenly tired of all the emotions, the blogger bowed his head and tried to inhale and exhale calmly. When he regained himself, he had tears in his eyes. With hoarse voice he tried to continue. "Shame on you."