Never Again
Chapter 2- The Funeral
So here's chapter 2. It's a little later than i thought and hoped it would be. (Or a lot later) But hey at least it's here!
Please leave a review at the end! (you guys probably hear this a lot!)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters (sniffle)
Rain… Typical England. John Watson stood critically in front of the mirror in his home. His empty home. His wife had left. She did not want to pick up her husband's broken pieces once again. She had taken her things and left the day after. Never again would he see her. Or his unborn child.
Today however, would be different than the days he had spent heartbroken and shattered over his death. In those days he had been sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling, absorbed in his own mind palace. The mind palace that was filled with memories of only him and Sherlock.
John sighed. No mental exercise could prepare him for the events that were going to take place and he knew that.
He looked in the mirror critically. A man that was clean, shaven, with no blood shot eyes and wearing a sharp suit a tie stared back at him. He wanted to look his best and had even shaved for Sherlock Holmes. After all, it was his funeral and John would be giving the eulogy.
There was a downside though. He looked over at his walking stick, took it, and limped down the stairs to the black limousine waiting outside the block. Mrs. Hudson gave him a comforting smile as well as a sympathetic look but it did not console him.
Two black horses had pulled a carriage containing a neatly decorated coffin to the church where it now lay on the altar. The church itself was just an ordinary church and the only thing in the church that was extraordinary where the people there. John looked around at the start and made a note of the people there: Greg Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft Holmes, Molly Hooper, Bill Wiggins, Irene Adler, Sebastian Wilkes, Anthea, Janine, Lady Elizabeth Smallwood and lots of other people whose names kept slipping his mind.
He sat on the very first pew at the front, a few meters away from the coffin. A few meters away from Sherlock Holmes.
Holmes was been buried where his fake grave was which now made it his real one. And his true final resting place.
It was now the funeral party and it had been decided that once everyone had sat down, John would stand up at the front and give the eulogy.
But he couldn't concentrate on his lines as Lestrade had just told him that Moriarty's body had disappeared shortly after the forensics had finished with him and Sherlock. They had both been pronounced dead and real so never again would either of them see the light of day. John's last hope, that it had all been a ruse, had been extinguished.
Mycroft- who had been the one who had persuaded John to come- gave him the signal that it was time for the eulogy.
John's P.O.V
I took a deep breath, stood up, and limped my way to the front of the crowd where I stopped and waited for silence. When it came I cleared my throat and began. All eyes were on me.
"Good evening everyone. Thank you for coming." I croaked. "Sherlock Holmes was an incredible man though I'm sure some of you might like to use other words. I always described him as quirky." Some laughter arose. I took another deep breath. "I have known him for a few years and some of you have known him even longer while some of you may wish you hadn't." A few chuckles and eyes darted to several people seated around the room. "We had a few ups and downs along the way but one thing remained for certain; we solved crimes, I blogged about it, and he forgot his pants." A bit more laughter arose, and a few more sad smiles.
I looked up before saying my final part. "And I always valued his life over my own." I would have given anything to switch places with him that day… I thought to myself quietly.
With that my eulogy was over and I hadn't noticed that tears were streaming down my face. It was a short eulogy. But I couldn't bear to say anymore. It hurt. It hurt to know that never again would I see his smiling, crafty, mischievous face.
That was 50 long years ago but I remember every second of it as if it were yesterday. I now spend my days in a retirement home in the countryside.
I smiled to myself. I always finished reminiscing with the will he had left behind. It was sad at first with the official stuff at the top. But at the bottom had been a personal message directed at me. I smiled how Mycroft had ordered the bottom of the will to be cut off so I could keep it. It now rests it my pocket, always with me. I know it word for word. It says:
"John. I give you my sincerest apologies. I should have told you about what I was going to do. But I knew you would object. Of course there were other ways to take care of Jim Moriarty but my life had reached a dead end for a while and there was nothing I could do. The one person I loved was married to someone else and was on their way to starting a family. I never loved anyone else as much as I loved them. Whenever I saw them my heart skipped a beat and I was always momentarily speechless. (I always covered that up by looking like I was lost in thought.) I had loved them for years and years and that time we were apart for a year due to… circumstances, I felt that my heart had been ripped out. That person was you, John. I loved you. No… I still love you. And I will do everything I can to wait for you in the afterlife. Even if it means raising hell itself, I will be there for you. I love you John."
Sherlock
I love you too Sherlock Holmes. And sooner or later, I will once again meet you.
So that's it for this chapter. I will be adding one more little one later on tonight and if not tonight then definitely tomorrow!
Once again, please leave a review and constructive criticism is always appreciated! :D (unless it's a page long rant about the damned oxford comma *cough* BETH *cough*)