The Beginning of the End

"Sherlock, are you almost ready?" John called through the closed bedroom door. "We have to leave," he checked his watch. "Now."

Sherlock sighed from behind the door. He studied himself in the mirror, fixing his bowtie. Honestly, he looked so /stupid/.

"Sherlock?" John called again just as Sherlock opened the door. "Good, you're ready. You look nice."

"I already agreed to wear the tux, John," Sherlock said, slipping his mobile from the table into the jacket pocket. "No need to flatter me. It's nauseating."

"Right." John said. "Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Sherlock said with a sigh, leading the way down the stairs. "I can't believe you're about to get married. I never thought you'd make such a stupid mistake."

"It's not stupid," John said, stepping onto the sidewalk and holding his hand up for a taxi. "I love her, Sherlock."

"So?"

"Never mind." John said as the cab pulled into traffic. "You wouldn't understand."

"Probably not."

Sherlock knew he wasn't being encouraging. He knew what he was saying would hurt John – not that he hadn't said it before – but he wasn't going to change his opinion just because it was John's wedding day. The rest of the cab ride was spent in silence, until, that is, the cab pulled up to the sidewalk by the church.

"You have the rings, right?"

"No. Why would I have your wedding rings?"

John paled slightly.

"I gave them to you last night. Where did you put them?"

"You didn't give them to me." Sherlock answered stubbornly.

"Yes, I did. You were looking through the microscope and you said to put them on the counter. Why," he said more to himself. "I would ever be stupid enough to leave them there? They probably got mixed in with whatever concoction you were making last night."

"But that means the data I collected wasn't accurate."

John glared at Sherlock.

"We have bigger problems than your experiment, Sherlock." John said. "Like what I'm supposed to put on Mary's finger or better yet, how to explain that I lost the rings."

"Calm down," Sherlock said, pulling out his mobile. "Don't worry about the rings. I'll get them sorted out."

"Calm down?" John repeated. He couldn't be calm if he tried. "What am I supposed to tell Mary?"

"Don't tell her anything." Sherlock said, tapping away at his mobile. "She doesn't need to know."

"Are you two getting out or what?" the cabbie asked, turning around. "Wait any longer and I'd say you were getting cold feet."

John glared at the taxi driver, handed him the fare, and got out.

"I'll be back." Sherlock said after John asked if he was coming. John slammed the door – he wasn't really angry with Sherlock as much as he was annoyed with himself but he knew Sherlock would find another set of rings and everything would be alright – and crossed the sidewalk to the church.

Inside he found his parents and Mary's father waiting. Mary and Harry were in a sectioned off room, lest John see the bride before the wedding.

"Where's Sherlock?" John's mum, Eleanor, asked.

"He had to run out for something," John answered nervously. He checked his watch; only ten minutes till the ceremony was about to start. The priest officiating the service came and greeted John with a handshake, asking if he was ready. John swallowed and nodded. He followed the minister into another room where the bridal party would gather before commencing. Harry emerged a few minutes later, wearing her bridesmaid's dress.

"You look beautiful," John said, kissing her cheek.

"This is nothing." Harry said with a playful glint in her eye. "Wait till you see the bride."

John smiled, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. Harry looked around.

"Where's that jerk you call a friend?"

Sherlock and Harry had had problems from the moment they met. They truly despised each other; the punch in the face Sherlock had received at their first meeting was evidence of the depth of their hate.

"He'll be here." John said, checking his watch.

"Doubt it." Harry said, sitting in one of the armchairs.

Sherlock, meanwhile, was frantically on the phone with Mycroft, who happened to already be at the church. Upon hearing the situation, Mycroft had excused himself politely from his seat and made a couple of quick calls. Sherlock had been pacing up and down the street nearby as the taxi stood, waiting for him.

"Are you almost ready?" the taxi driver asked.

"No." Sherlock snapped. "I'll pay you double. Just wait."

Sherlock went back to tapping the phone in his hand impatiently, almost dropping it when it vibrated.

Two rings waiting at Estate. Ask for Jillian. M

PS – Don't be late.

Sherlock had barely read the text before jumping back into the cab and ordering the driver to take him to the Holmes Estate.

"Are we almost set to go?" the priest asked, coming into the small room again. Harry had gone back down to help Mary with last minute details, leaving John and their parents.

"Sherlock isn't here." John muttered and the priest smiled uncomfortably, saying they could wait awhile longer.

Fifteen minutes passed and Sherlock still hadn't arrived.

"Are you sure he's going to come?" Eleanor asked John gently. "He did make it clear he did not approve of this marriage. I'm not trying to be insensitive, dear, but do you think maybe he decided he didn't want to be here?"

John shook his head. Sherlock would never do that to him. John knew Sherlock didn't want him to get married but he would never not show up at his wedding.

"He'll be here." John said firmly and Eleanor sighed, standing and saying something about going to check on Mary and Harry.

"Can't you go any faster?" Sherlock demanded. They were slowly trying to navigate Piccadilly and the traffic was incredible.

"I'm doing the best I can," the driver said shortly. Sherlock sighed, checking his watch. It was already twenty minutes passed two.

"Here." Sherlock thrust a one-hundred pound note at the driver and jumped out. He could run faster than this and so he did. Taking the fastest route he knew, Sherlock arrived at the church five minutes later. He burst into the small room and John jumped up when he saw him.

"Where have you been?" John exclaimed, standing.

"Traffic, construction," Sherlock panted, trying to catch his breath. "I ran."

"Ran from where?"

"Piccadilly."

John raised an eyebrow.

"Well, come on, let's not put this off any longer," Sherlock said, taking in a deep breath of air.

"Okay," John said shakily. Now he was filled with nerves.

"Oh, relax." Sherlock said, a bit disgusted. "It's just a wedding."

"Right." John said, glancing out of the door. He caught the priest's eye and he came in.

"Are we all set to go, then?"

John nodded.

"I'll just let the bride know and we'll get this show on the road."

John paced nervously until the priest came back.

"You'll wait up here," he said to Sherlock. "Harry will come up with bride after John seats Mr. and Mrs. Watson."

Sherlock nodded and John glanced at him nervously.

"You'll be fine. You love her, go marry her already."

Perhaps not the most tactful way to say he somewhat supported the marriage (and somewhat was stretching it) but it was what John needed to hear. A smile appeared on his lips as he followed the priest out to where his parents were waiting. The priest signalled the music player, who began the procession for John and his parents, Eleanor on his arm.

John led them to the front pew and kissed his mother and hugged his father before joining the priest up. Sherlock and Harry came down the aisle, Sherlock looking disgusted by the woman on his arm. They parted ways and went to their respective sides of the alter.

And then.

The moment he had waited all his life for. The pipes and drums (he was a soldier, after all) struck up their salute and the doors at the back of the church opened again and there was his bride.

John felt his eyes well with tears as kept eye contact while Mary walked down the aisle, escorted by her father. She really was beautiful.

Mary made it to the alter and John went down to meet them, taking her on his arm up to the priest.

The ceremony itself was on the short side and everything went on without a hitch, which made John sigh with relief. He had half expected Sherlock to express concern over the marriage when the priest asked if there were any objections. But he kept his mouth shut, handed the rings over when they were needed, and signed his name on the register.

However, as family and friends applauded the newly married couple as they went up the aisle together, Sherlock was not smiling. He didn't offer his arm to Harry and she had to walk quickly to keep up with him as he followed John and Mary.

As far as Sherlock was concerned, he'd done his duty and now all he wanted was to go home … his home now, not his and John's. John would be moving out.

221B had lost an occupant and Sherlock had lost his best friend.

It had taken years longer than Sherlock had thought it would for John to finally abandon him. Of course, that just made it hurt that much more … which just proved that love was a defect in the losing side.

And while he had won the game, he certainly didn't feel like a winner.

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for the interest in the story, I'm glad you're enjoying it! This has been part one of two chronicling John and Mary's wedding and Sherlock's response.

Please review – they encourage me more than I can say! Especially now as I'm struggling to write anything …