Hey again,
so today is a funeral, I was just in the mood to write it. Suggestions are still welcome (just leave a comment with the suggestion). I promise the next one will be more funny and fluffy.
Have a nice day and reviews are certainly welcome.
The Funeral
"Sherlock, your father is dead.", John said. He was still holding his mobile phone in his hand and seemed rather shocked. The doctor hadn´t even known that Sherlock´s father was still alive.
"The old man is dead, huh? Finally the devil claimed his soul.", replied Sherlock with a rather nonchalant attitude and continued playing a soft tune on his violin.
"Sherlock! He was your father and now he is dead! How can you say something like that!" His own father had been loving and caring, he had been the one that had encouraged him to become a doctor and work in the army.
"John, please, didn´t you wonder, why my mother didn´t mention my father at all on my birthday?"
"I did wonder, but..."
"Yes, you didn´t want to be overly curious. They broke up long ago, living apart. He didn´t want a divorce, because my father had a reputation to keep up... When did Mycroft say was the funeral?"
"In two days.", answered John and still couldn´t understand the indifference of his friend.
Sherlock was wearing formal clothes to the funeral. Completely black, just like Mycroft. Mummy Holmes was dressed in a long black dress and wearing one of those hats with a mourning veil. There were many other guests. Politicians, owners of big companies, reporters and what seemed like the rest of the Holmes family.
John was watching the whole funeral from afar, because it didn´t feel right for him to attend to a funeral of a man, he hadn´t even known. He wanted to keep a close eye on Sherlock, he still couldn´t believe that he acted so "normal" after hearing about his fathers death. But after all Sherlock never spoke about his family.
"And now some words from those he loved most. May their words ease the pain of the mourning family and friends.", said the priest and stepped back. Appolonia moved forwards a white rose in her hands, clutching it with trembling hands.
"He was my husband for many years. He gave me my two wonderful sons and for that I will be forever grateful." She gently placed the rose on the coffin and stepped back.
Mycroft was the next one to step forward. He was holding a white lilie and just placing it on the dark wood of the coffin. He had no words to say to his father. After all he never liked what Mycroft had to say.
Then Sherlock moved forward. He also was holding a white lilie in his hand and almost dumping it on the lid.
"I am your biological son, but not even once were you my father.", he said with a cold voice and his blue eyes glimmered silvern. His mother made a tutting sound, but even Mycroft couldn´t contradict Sherlock´s words. He had simply said the truth.
Appolonia started crying as the coffin sank down into the earth. Sherlock and Mycroft just stared as if nothing special happened. Actually Mummy Holmes was the only one crying.
A little while later they were all sitting in Mycroft´s manor and drinking tea and John finally asked, why Sherlock didn´t grief over his fathers death.
"Because he wasn´t my father, John. I can´t mourn for someone I didn´t even know.", explained Sherlock, sipping his tea.
"Sherlock is right. He was a stranger to us. Our father wasn´t interested in his sons. He only spoke to us, when we had to be punished." Sherlock smiled a melancholic smile at Mycroft´s description.
"He was never there for us, when we really needed him. Our mother was a prisoner of him. She didn´t really love him. The marriage had been a set up by her parents for more money and power. And now she is finally free."