This if my first fic ! English is not my first language, so sorry for the possible mistakes.
Reviews are love !
Chapter 1
John seated in the small church. The other guests were getting settled and the organist was rehearsing, the ceremony would start soon. He was still hoping to wake up from the nightmare that had started one week ago, when Sherlock had taken him on this frantic journey on the continent. Until Switzerland.
The events of that last day were running in circles in his mind. He wished he would have the power to "delete" them, but it was simply impossible. Because the result of this tragedy was here, on the altar, the black coffin. It was empty of course, as they never found the body. But he had found the letter that his friend had left for him, saying goodbye. Sherlock had known that there would be no coming back from the final encounter with his nemesis. He had embraced his fate. But it hadn't helped John coping with the terrible void, and the guilt. Could he have done something?
That question would surely never find its answer. John looked at the people around him, the church was almost full now. On the first row, was Mycroft. He had organized everything of course. On his left was Anthea, focused on her blackberry; and on his right a frail but elegant woman who could only be Mrs Holmes.
Lestrade was seated a few rows behind, with the Yarders. They were all there, even Anderson. He wondered what Sherlock would have thought about that.
Next to him, was Mrs Hudson. She was holding John's hand and he could hear her sobbing quietly. She had loved Sherlock as her own son and was inconsolable ever since the dreadful news had arrived.
There was also the mass of people that he had never seen before. The anonymous that Sherlock had probably helped in the past. Maybe a few enemies as well, secretly celebrating the moment.
And then he saw her, standing against the church's door, Molly. God the poor girl looked terrible, her eyes still red from long hours of crying. Life had not been easy for the young woman lately. There had been the shocking revelation of Jim's identity. And now… She remained there for a moment and finally joined the last row hesitantly.
Sherlock Holmes' funeral was about to begin.