The Discussion of the Flawed Society, a Sherlock Holmes + Jude the Obscure Crossover fanfic

I've found myself in the habit of only chronicling the exciting crimes solved by my marvellous friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, but I've put it upon myself to record a particularly fascinating aspect of his character which was revealed to me but once. Now that several years have elapsed, the event in question may be met with much less controversy than if I had published it contemporaneously with the others.

Things had been going as per the usual; an unhappy client had come to Baker Street and told Holmes of a tale of woe which culminated in a murder. My! But what a strange life I lead for that to be the 'usual'. I suppose I am just accustomed to it now. Holmes then made some fantastic deductions in the manner with which my readers will all be familiar with and these deductions pointed us towards the small Wessex town of Marygreen. The crime was solved and the culprit arrested and Holmes and I were left sitting in the inn that we had been staying at and reflecting on the events of the past couple of days.

"I am still rather full of energy following the case, Watson," Holmes said to me. "How about a brisk walk through the countryside?"

"You do astound me, Holmes!" I replied. "Here I am hoping for a good rest after that recent ordeal and you are in need of a walk! I shall accompany you nonetheless."

We departed from the inn at quite a pace. Holmes being such a long-legged man, I expect such speed comes easily to him, but I was almost out of breath when I tried to keep up with him. Eventually, he slowed a little and we walked at a much more leisurely pace. He began to talk at length about recent studies he'd conducted in the field of criminology, getting quite animated at times.

Mid-sentence, Holmes came to a stop.

"What is it?" I asked and he quickly he held up one of his long fingers to silence me.

The quiet, yet distinctive sound of a woman weeping could be heard nearby.

Holmes followed the sound around a corner and sure enough, we found a fair lady of perhaps thirty years of age sat tearfully against a tree.

"My dear!" I cried, driven by my innate need to help a woman in need. "Whatever is the matter?"

"I am sorry," she said, standing. "I am troubled by things which I should not share with you two kind gentlemen."

"My name is Sherlock Holmes and I think you will find," he said, "that you can share most anything with Watson and I! What is your name?"

"I am Sue Phillotson, and I am sure that you would hate me if I were to tell you my woes, and rightly so!"

I could not believe that anybody as innocent looking as she could have been responsible of anything hateful.

"I think," said Holmes, taking her right hand in both of his, "that you had better tell us the whole story. Perhaps we can help to ease the emotional burden."

"O! Very well. As you have each been so kind, I shall tell you my story, but afterwards please spare me your criticisms, I am well aware of my own immoralities.

"Some time ago I met my cousin Jude Fawley in the city of Christminister. He and I cared very deeply for one another and he was eventually able to get me a job working alongside Richard Phillotson, the man I would eventually marry. Richard was ever so kind towards me, doing me so many favours, so I felt it only right that I should accept his proposal when he asked my hand in marriage. But for me, married life was an unhappy one, in particular, I could no carry out the duties of a wife to her husband and I found that my heart belonged to Jude. Richard, the good soul that he is, was very understanding of my troubles and he allowed me to go and live with Jude and after a time we were divorced. That was the one time that I could truly say that I was happy, but also the time when my selfish tendencies were at their peak! Jude too, had had a marriage before living with me and after we had lived together for several years, a child of Jude and his wife came to live with us. Despite the fact that Jude and I were never truly married, I thought it best that I should also provide him with children. But in the eyes of God I was always Richard's wife and I was soon to be punished for the folly of my ways; that dear, sweet child of Jude's continually felt that he was a burden upon Jude and I and so one night he hanged himself and his baby siblings along with him. The glazed, dead eyes of my poor babies still haunt me now! But it is good that this should have happened. It helped me to see how wrong I had been and I shortly after returned to Richard and though he and I were remarried, at first I insisted on separate sleeping quarters, but after Jude came for a visit and we shared a kiss, I have relented. And now Jude, my dear Jude, is dead too! I am sure that his death was a punishment for my actions. I should have been the happy wife of Richard but instead I broke the law of God and since then, I, and many others, have been paying the price."

Mrs. Phillotson had grown slowly more and more hysterical as she told us this tragic story. I wanted to say something of comfort, but I was at a loss for words. To my utter surprise, it was Holmes, who I had always believed had no understanding of affairs of the heart, who spoke.

"Mrs. Phillotson," he said, "I do not believe that the supreme, all loving, creator of the universe would have written such a set of laws that would cause anybody as much suffering as you have endured. I do not see that you have done wrong at any point in your narrative, instead you have shown as that you are a victim of our society. I share your objections to marriage, I assure you that marital duties are as repulsive to me as they are to you, yet it seems we live in a time where platonic, unmarried relations between a man and a woman are not recognised. For this reason I have avoided interaction with all others, outside of dear Watson here, and instead pursued the rewarding path of logic and reason. You are a perfect example of the harm the ignorance of others and the pressures towards marriage can cause. All I can offer is my deepest sympathies and the assurance that no person, divine or otherwise, would look harshly upon you."

Without saying a word, she threw her arms around Holmes, burying her crying eyes in his shoulder. After some time she said to him "Thank you, Mr. Holmes. While my heart will always ache for Jude and my poor babies, you have relieved me of an extremely crushing guilt."

We bade farewell to Mrs. Phillotson and continued on with our walk. I could not argue with anything Holmes had said. I was astounded at the progressive, moral insight of our society he had provided. It seems that there is no limit to my friend's genius and I do hope that poor old Mrs. Phillotson was able to take some comfort form his words.