Study in Forgiveness~
For Yeshua HaMeshiach(aka Jesus Christ). Because the Lord gives and the Lord takes away, bless the Lord.
For my uncle, wirtten on the night that you died, Go in peace.
For Birdy, Because you were truly loved.
For "Blondie" because I forgive you.
And for Elsa the Disney Princess, who taught a very broken grown-up to simply "Let it Go" thanks ;)
(Note: flashbacks are italicized)
There's that breathless moment when he witnesses his wife shoot his best mate, and...
Feeling the bullet tear through his shoulder,
Watching Sherlock falling...
Watching Sherlock falling again, backwards, not so far.
Seeing the smoking gun in Mary's hand.
In the hand of the woman carrying his child.
And very suddenly the world goes dark.
Because it isn't enough that she shot his best mate.
She goes ahead and shoots Magnusson, too.
And then disappears forever, with his child. Who's dear little face, he will never see.
He will imagine it on the hard nights. On the cold nights, in the future when he is alone.
Alone...
Because this time there are no more miracles.
Because, this time...
We're losing him, can't you drive this bloody thing any FASTER!
Oh, for GOD'S SAKES ,Sherlock, not again, please...don't do this...again.
Sometimes on the darkest nights in the future, he'll have a dream. A dream where his child comes to him, and sits in his lap. A girl, a beautiful, blonde little angel-girl is the one that haunts him. He feels she is a girl, and prays she is having a good life, wherever the woman that shattered his entire Cosmos ,with a single scrap of lead, has taken her.
"Daddy..." she will say, and bury her nose in his chest. "Tell me a story."
"Which one?" He'll bite his lip, expecting she'll want to know about some of his scars. About Afghanistan. But she never asks about that. For "Daddy's " sake , she doesn't ask.
"Tell me one about Sherlock..."
"Oh hohhohhohoho, I have LOTS of those, my angel."
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO JUST THE TWO OF US AGAINST THE WORLD?!
"Tell me about a time he saved the day, and you helped him."
"But, darling, there are lots ,and lots, and lots of those?"
"Oh you know, the very best one..."
John will think very hard then.
"Once apoun a time, Daddy came back to England, a very tired soldier. He was ready to "go away" ,if you understand..."
"I don't like that, Daddy..."
"No,no, neither do I...Because then you wouldn't have been born,now would you? My perfect angel..."
He'll draw his hand through her hair then. And she will hum...sleepily, and say in a tiny voice,
"But then Sherlock came..."
She knows this one. She likes this one best.
"That's right, that's when Sherlock came. I found him, in the very bottom of the big hospital, doing experiments with his friend ,Molly,"
"The nice doctor lady that still comes for tea sometimes?"
"Yes, the nice doctor lady that comes for tea..."
"Was she Sherlock's girlfriend?"
"No, but she may have liked to have been..."
"What happened next?"
Sherlock opens his eyes one last time. Collars John, far too ferociously for a dieing man.
"My vow...I'm sorry...I would have...I would..."
"Don't say "would". You WILL."
Grey-green eyes are burning out...
"Your child...One day you will find her again. I made you a vow...And I will keep it. One day I will send angels...One day I will come myself...One more miracle...for you. You will be with her...again...My first, and my last, -my only wish..."
"Sherlock...SHERLOCK!"
"You might say, rather, that he found me. He knew everything about me that anybody could want to know, just by looking at my hands, and my haircut, and my phone. He was like that ,you know."
"He was a detective...A uh... consoling detective. The onliest one in the world..."
"Consulting detective, darling. And yes, the only one in the world."
No use...This is already supernatural,this brief waking moment.
"John?"
"Sherlock! Stop...don't do that..."
He's blinking wildly, "Just..stop it now!Stay awake!"
"Mary..."
John's heart goes cold at her name.
"Forgive...Mary..."
He dies with the name of his murderess on his lips.
"Sherlock?" John whispered.
"He gave me a home."
"221 B, Baker Street."
"That's right. Very good."
"Oh, of course I remember. That's where Mrs. Hudson keeps the good chocolate biscuits!"
"Hahahah, yes,yes that's the perfect place for free chocolate biscuits!"
"Tell me the part where he made you run..."
John will look up at the sky then. Still feeling it. Feeling the thrill of that very first hunt. Blood swimming ,like jet -fuel on a fire ,through his veins.
"When Daddy got home from The-Sandy-Place-Where-the-Mean-Men-With-Guns-Live, he couldn't walk right. He had to use a cane.
But the day he met Sherlock,something very special happened...Something wonderful."
"Kinda like a miracle?"
"Mmhhmm the first of many...
For the very first time, Daddy had found somebody who could see every single broken piece of him ,without feeling one bit sorry. Rather, this man, thought I was a hero, just the way I was. Said so...called me a war hero.
And even though he was very brilliant,he acted as if I was just as important as him. Asked me questions ,about doctor stuff. Wanted me to help him look for clues, and all that stuff a proper consulting detective is s'posed to.
And wanted me to keep up, of course. Ran after the bad people. We did alot of that -running-once I learned how again. That first time, I was chasing him, I felt like I was flying. I even jumped from one rooftop to the next!"
"Like Spider-man!"
"Been watching American telly again, have you?Yes, a bit like Spider-man."
"Sherlock was tall,Daddy. I don't know how you kept up."
John will sit up then. Not having ever remembered describing Sherlock to his daughter. They were always so busy talking about what he was doing, he never remembered to talk about all the stuff he was...He was...
"He was tall?"
"And he had bushy ,soft ,black curls. And really pale skin. And eyes that were shiny -silver- and -green ,all at the same time. And if he ever did smile, it was a nice sort of smile. Like the one in the little yellow faces that I draw at school, not so happy that you think he's only pretending, but not so tiny that ,again, it looks pretend. A line going straight up and down again. All matter-of-factly pleased."
"Oh? Who told you all of that, huh?"
She will smile then. "Nobody told me ,Daddy. Don't be stupid!"
Which will sound exactly like a child mimicing the great Sherlock Holmes ,as if she spent every afternoon learning his turn of phrase, even the lit of his voice when he throws the only-half-hearted insult.
"Then...how? do you know that?"
"Really, Daddy?" (Again, the child has more skill at mimicing ,by far, than the most glorious of the Macaw family).
"I really don't know?"
She'll laugh then, "How easy! I see him...all the time. He comes to me at night when I'm scared ,because Mum has gotten us in trouble with bad people, and we have to leave again. America, France, even China,always moving, and I hate flying. Sherlock comes when I have to fly. Makes bad jokes about the flight attendants. Tells me where everybody on the plane is going,who they will see when they get off the plane, what they will do in the new country. Just by looking at their sneakers, or their glasses, or their brand of laptop. Tells me all sorts of stories about you, Daddy. About how you kept him "in the right". He talks too fast sometimes,when he's excited mostly, but I listen anyway, even if I don't know what the blazes he's talking about, because his voice...It's BIG. Beautiful, to me anyway, and kinda scary sometimes when he's angry or worries about you. About how you're doing by yourself..."
And then John will listen as it's his daughter's turn to tell stories...
"He tells me that he loves you, but not like boyfriends. He tells me he wishes you would eat, that he used to like to watch you eat,just because you could enjoy food without it slowing down your "thought processes"whatever that means. He takes my hand, and holds it tight, when I cross the street. He teaches me how to "read"people.I'm not so good as him, but he says I'm good enough. Sometimes I have bad dreams at night, that the bad people have come to get Mum, and I'm all alone. Then he'll hold me really close ,Daddy, and he'll tell me not to be stupid, that it's really ok because he will always be there for all three of us..."
The tears will come, and silence will fall, as if the little girl is thinking very hard.
"Was he an angel, Daddy?"
John will laugh.
Was he?