The Wedding

The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address was 221B Baker Street. I used to live there with a wonderful landlady, Mrs. Hudson, and my "colleague" ex-army Doctor John Watson. I didn't move out of my lodgings, I never would, you see, I simply died out of John's life's sake. Not just John but he was my main worry. Well, I say "died". I faked my own death, quite simply actually. I would explain it to you but your funny little brains would have to great a struggle to understand.

Anyway, it has been approximately three years since my "death" and I have been lodging with my good friend, Molly Hooper. Thank God she is no longer has an infatuation with me. Throughout these few years I have been observing my dearest friend of all, John. He had been depressed ever since the fall and just a few short months ago he met this woman by the name of Mary. Strangely, she gives him joy and gladness. I have heard them speaking lately, of some wedding. They had people visiting often assisting them with the plans. Molly received a letter soon after and I got a chance to peek at it while she was at her new job. It read:

You have been invited to join us on the day of marriage for:

Mary and John Watson .

Please, no gifts.

"Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come anyway.

Could be dangerous. –SH"

He quoted me? On his wedding invitations? I asked Molly if she would be present at the event but she was not sure yet. I instructed her that she had to stop the wedding at all costs and she asked why. By then I was already back in my room. All I could think about was that stupid wedding. How could john get married? My John, married? How could he do so? Does he not know? Soon I began to rest, which rarely ever happens.

The next day was normal; I ignored anyone and anything around me and headed into my mind palace. My brother, Mycroft, prefers his mind bakery. Seeing how he has put on a few pounds lately he must visit it often. The wedding was in just three weeks so I had to perfect a plan rapidly before the special day arrives.

One week passed by and I hadn't eaten, drank, or slept since day one of this escapade. Another week passed and still a blank palate. Within the last week a few ideas sprung up however, none of them seemed well enough to meet my demands. If I can't think of anything soon, I will just have to run right in there and- wait, that's brilliant! I will have to time it perfectly in order for it to work. The next two nights I ate and drank as if I was suddenly normal. I did not enjoy it but it did help to get my blood pressure down from all that has happened.

I have never been so nervous in my life, never. I did not ever have to do something that made me feel so, so, human. My heart was racing, I felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. I heard the bells of the church. I busted out the door and into the streets. I got so many glares and shocked faces from the people around the house. Soon I noticed that I was being bombarded with estranged people as if they had never seen a person before. I tried to get a cab but they all sped away with faces as if they had just seen a ghost. I was taken to be some kind a freak from the undead, which in a way, I kind of was. The last this town saw of me was a bleeding corpse rolled away by paramedics. I had to sprint as fast as I could to get to the church before it was too late. After about three blocks of slithering through the crowds, the church was in sight.

I got to the building but as I tugged at the door handles, they were locked. I banged on the doors hoping like hell that someone would hear me and let me in. Just my luck, when the doors opened the man grasping the knob happened to be my brother. He was shocked to see me as his jaw dropped and he fell to the ground. I grabbed the door and ran in. To my left was a set of staircases to the upper pew area, but straight forward was where I was headed. I bashed through the doors into the worship hall frantically and yelled "STOP!" at the top of my lungs with my arms agape.

Everyone stopped and stared at me, and John, oh sweet John, just stood there with so many emotions that he nearly fainted in the process. He did however, begin to have a slight grin appear on his face. I ran up toward the alter and grabbed John's shoulders. I looked him in the eye and said to him something us both will never forget, and nor any of the other guests that were present. I said,

"John, I- I don't quite know how to say this but, I love you and I always have, ever since our first case. All those sweet moments that we had together, I will cherish forever. You are my world, my everything, and I will do anything the protect you and care for you. I could never ask for a better partner."

Mary, the snobby bride-to-be, attempted to pull me away from him but she just couldn't manage to get me away the man I love. I released my grip on John and grabbed Mary, pushed her into the front pew and went back to John, who was still in shock from the sight of me. He didn't know it yet but he was about to have the biggest shock in his entire life.

I looked him in the eye and asked for his hand in marriage.

Everyone was quiet, shocked, and still. All but Mary of course. She was full of rage. So much rage that Molly had to get up and pin her down to prevent her from making me the murder victim. All was silent until John broke it, saying still with so many battling emotions, his answer.

"Oh God yes."

In the heat of the moment I not only made my dream even better than it was previously by involuntarily locking lips with that handsome doctor, my love, my fiancé.

Later that evening after the sermon declared us married, we returned back to the flat. Everything was exactly the way it was when I left. John and I talked a little before bed and decided that we would go over to the states for a good old American honeymoon.

To be continued…