I was feeling soppy and wrote a 'heaven' fic. I'm an atheist but I adore the idea of Sherlock and Molly being happy forever. I own nothing.
Sherlock Holmes was wrong. But for once he didn't mind.
He had died ten minutes ago in a hospital bed in London. He had been alone, but he had expected that.
Yet he was somehow able to witness his heart flatlining. His body being covered up.
Perhaps there was something to that religion stuff after all.
All went white.
A voice.
"Oh Sherlock."
Christ. It was her.
"Molly? But you're dead… And so am I, I think."
She appeared in front of him, as youthful as the day she had died, just a year into their marriage.
He looked down and he was surprised to see a lean figure, not the old man's body he had grown used to. He was wearing his old Belstaff coat which had been thrown away the day after Molly died and one of the suits he had so loved. He felt his face. The wrinkles are gone.
"Is this… heaven?"
"I'm not sure. But come, John and Mary are here too."
Sherlock's face lit up.
"I've missed them."
"I know."
"I missed you most."
"I was always there Sherlock. When I died, my dad was here to greet me. I spent the rest of my time watching over you."
"This doesn't seem real."
"Perhaps it's not. But let's enjoy it, now that we're together again."