AN: Drum roll please! This is the last and final chapter of "Hostile Correspondence!" How does everyone feel? Anxious? Depressed? Excited? Terrified? I'm all four at the same time so don't you worry your little heads about anything cause I'm the one who has to write it! Endings to me are the hardest to write because you really have to satisfy yourself and convince yourself that you did your story and your characters justice. This technically isn't the end because I will be doing a sequel but it is the end for a while and I guess that just makes me really sad. I like how I'm going to end this but I hope you do too. If not, well... as my best friend would say, go fall. This chapter is going to be pretty short but that's because it's the end and the end is usually pretty short. Think of it as an epilogue. Here we go my friends.
Disclaimer: However much I wish to own this spark of genius; I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters or scenes that I may take from the spectacular show. I do however own my own character and ask that if you must use her in anything, to ask me first! Much thanks!
Hostile Correspondence
Chapter 9:
It had been days since the fall and John was a mess. He went to see his shrink but he came back almost worse than before he left. I tried to help as much as I could but every time I looked at him all I could think was how I lied and how John didn't know the truth and he deserved to. At the moment he was making eggs and coffee while I was going through Sherlock's stuff. The funeral was extremely small. Mycroft didn't even make an appearance which was sickening.
I was hanging on but John could barely function. The only reason he was even trying at this point was because I was here. I sold my flat and moved into John's to keep him company. John refused to go back to 221B so I grabbed a bunch of Sherlock's papers and brought it over. No matter how hard it was, Sherlock was gone and the faster we got rid of his stuff, or at least put it away or put it to good use, the faster we'd be able to heal and move on.
John placed a plate in front of me and a cup of coffee without sugar. His plate barely had anything on it but he had two coffee mugs and I could smell some whiskey in one of them, if not both. I sighed and grabbed a hold of John's arm.
"John, do you think alcohol is a good idea this early in the morning?" I asked gently making sure I looked him in the eyes to show my concern. John just raised an eyebrow and chugged some of his coffee down before answering.
"Well Straya, its happy hour somewhere in the world, right?" he drank more and then took a small bite of his eggs. I removed my hand, sighing, and went back to work.
"I don't know what we're going to do with all of his things… He didn't have a will, he didn't really have a family and he never told us what he wanted to do with anything. Mycroft won't answer my phone or house calls and neither you nor Mrs. Hudson knows what to do with it. I'm at a loss here, John." I gave up and threw the work I had onto a pile before leaning back, ignoring the food placed before me. I wasn't hungry anymore… I was never hungry. Jim was buried in the same cemetery as Sherlock and I hadn't gone to either to pay my respects. The thought of this whole ordeal made me sick. I had been having nightmares for days which lead to absolutely no sleep and I felt as if I was going insane.
I leaned over and rubbed my eyes in exhaustion. John stared at me before clearing his throat. My head snapped up as my attention turned to him and not my aching body.
"Yes?" I mumbled.
It took him a moment but he found his strength to speak, "Is there something wrong?" I was about to point out the obvious when he stopped me, "No, I mean… I know the whole ordeal with Moriarty and Sherlock is traumatizing but it seems like there's something else going on in the brain of yours and I can't quite figure out what it is. Anything you want to share with me? You know I'm here to listen and help." I opened my mouth but it closed instantly. How would I even begin?
I did want to tell John everything. He deserved to know and keeping it a secret for the rest of our lives was not the right path to take by any means. I stood and went to the window.
"John… I was working with Moriarty…" I whispered.
Currently I was sitting on the door steps of John's apartment building. It was raining and I could still hear him cursing because he left the window open. I sighed and watched the clouds roll by as the rain soaked my body. As I figured, he didn't take the news very well and threw me out. Though he didn't give me my suitcases so I'm assuming he's just taking time to cool off. If not, I'd stalk him and make him take me back because I made a promise… A promise I refuse to break.
The door cracked open behind me and I jumped up and watched as John stared at me through the crack.
"I'm sorry," he began, "It's not really your fault. In the end you were kept by fear not love. Do you want to come back in? You're welcome to stay… I'm not kicking you out or anything…" I smiled at him, swung the door open and pulled him into a hug.
"I'm not going anywhere soldier. I'm staying right here at my post, with you. Okay?" I looked him in the eye as I asked him the last part. He nodded and smiled softly back at me.
"I want to see him today… I need to see him today…" John whispered, broken. I nodded.
"I'll call Mrs. Hudson. All three of us will go see him, okay?" John agreed and we got ready. John was in his normal suit and I was helping with the collar and his buttons making sure he looked sharp.
"I still hate you…" he mumbled and I smiled gently at him.
"I know Dear John, I know."
We then grabbed a cab to go buy flowers. I wore Sherlock's favorite dress of mine. Black lace at the top, chiffon black layered on the bottom and cap sleeves with a skin colored backing at the bust and waist. I bought one black rose for Jim and a dozen pink and yellow roses for Sherlock with daisies intertwined. We picked up Mrs. Hudson and none of us said a word on the way to the cemetery and neither of them asked what the black rose was for, for that I was thankful.
The rain had ceased and the clouds floated endlessly across the sky, the sun peeking through every now and then. We walked arm in arm to the grave of Sherlock Holmes. It was black granite with a simple "Sherlock Holmes" engraved into it. It was a grave of a disgraced man… a secretive man.
We all stood there and just stared.
Mrs. Hudson was the first to speak, "There's all this stuff, all his scientific equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school. Would you?"
"I can't go back to the flat again. Not at the moment. I'm angry," John confessed his physique changing.
"It's okay, John. It's nothing unusual in that," Mrs. Hudson began and then started to name all the ways he made her angry when he was alive, "That's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise, firing guns at half past 1 o' clock in the morning."
"Yeah," John simply agreed though I could tell he was frustrated with her since his anger was of a different kind. I laced my arm through his and leaned my head on his shoulder.
"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine! Keeping bodies where there's food!" Mrs. Hudson went on to complain. In a way these memories made me smile. They were all the things I missed most about Sherlock.
"Yeah," John mumbled again trying to be polite in the best way he could.
Mrs. Hudson kept at it though not taking a hint, "And the fighting drove me up the wall with all his carryings on!"
John had enough, "Yeah, listen, I'm not actually that angry okay?"
Mrs. Hudson stopped suddenly in understanding and placed her hand on his shoulder, "Okay, I'll leave you alone to… you know…" She began to walk away and I turned to walk a bit with her.
"Mrs. Hudson, I'll come by and take the science supplies to the school if you wish," I offered. She smiled gently at me.
"Oh dear, that would be wonderful," she answered before holding my hand for a bit, "You are always such a sweet girl. He was lucky to have you and John is very lucky that you're still here for him. He needs you my dear." With that she was gone and I stumbled back to John talking to the grave I stopped and listened.
"Um, you… You told me once that you weren't a hero. Um, there were times I didn't even think you were human," I smiled thinking back to the robot and Spock references of the past, "but let me tell you one thing. You were the best man and the most human… human being that I've ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. That's so… there." John stumbles forward and touches the grave as I hear the grief in his voice and the cry on his lips. I rush forward and put my arms around him and he leans back into me.
He continues as he holds onto my hand and his other touches the top of the grave, "I was so alone and I owe you so much." He begins to walk away before racing back. "Now please, there's just one more thing, just one more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me." The pain laced in his words brought tears to my eyes as it took everything in me not to bawl right there and then. I had to be strong for John, just like I promised. I can't be selfish, it's not about me. "Don't be dead." Oh god… "Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this." And the cries that came tore my heart apart. I embraced John, pulling him to me. He cried in me for a while before straightening up and was back to the emotionless soldier he'd been since the fall.
"I'm ready to go," John announced and I nodded.
"You go. I need some time. There's some… things I need to do. I'll catch my own cab home alright?" I tried to put it as delicately as possible considering I didn't want to say I was going to Jim's grave as well. John nodded, squeezed my hand then left. I turned and knelt in front of Sherlock's grave placing the flowers down in the hole. I leaned my forehead against the stone and breathed deeply trying to control my emotions.
"I miss you. The worst part is waking up every day knowing that you're not here anymore. It's… it's unbearable. John cries in his sleep, I'm plagued with nightmares and I don't know what to say to make him feel better. He needs a distraction and I keep thinking a girl would help but he has the worse track record. Then again, that's when you were here… Don't worry Sherlock. I'll take care of him just like I promised I would." Tears were flowing down freely but I didn't break down like I normally did. I kissed my fingertips and touched them to his name before whispering, "I love you."
I grabbed my black rose and made my way through the mass of graves before reaching a small stone under a tree. James Moriarty it read. I sighed and knelt down in front of my lost lover's grave. I placed the rose simply in front of the stone and stared at it.
"You… drive me crazy, you know that right? You come into my life as a lover, a friend, family and then you turn into this demon that I didn't expect, who pleased himself by torturing me only to leave me again in redemption. What gives you the right?!" My voice rose at the end. "I'm so angry at you and that makes me feel terrible because your dead and I wish… I wish I had told you one more time that I loved you. You were my first everything. First love. First real kiss. First crush. First lover. First real family. First home. First crash. First burn. First hate. Now you're gone and I'm not sure what to do. You took everything from me only to restore my bitter hope in the end. Did you ever love me?" I didn't cry this time. I was too angry. I was too hurt to cry. "I sure hope you're dancing in hell right now Jim because that means I'll probably be meeting you down there." I stood and glanced at the grave one more time before turning. I was stopped in my tracks. Oh my god…
I gasped, "Oh my god."
"I heard you missed me," a smug, over confident, pain in the ass, smart ass voice teased.
"Sherlock…"
AN: BOOM! Don't hate me… I really wanted it to end like this and I got it to end like this so please, don't kill me, okay? Now you have a wonderful sequel to look forward to! I want to know your overall impression of the story so don't be afraid to PM me or review and ask me a question. If you're a guest and have some good questions you can email me at FanFictionSoars21 at gmail. If you just want to keep in contact or want to see other stories I'm writing or what not go ahead and PM me or email me. I'm a pretty nice person so you shouldn't have to worry *wink*. Haha, anyway, thank you for coming on this journey with me. I'm going to put an alert chapter on this story when I write the sequel and I think I'm going to try to write it all at once so I can just post whenever I need to. That's easier and I don't know why I don't already do that now. Um, if you have any ideas you want me to write or want an opinion on, I do that a lot so don't be afraid to ask! Thanks for being so amazing. Much love for the last time on this story – Jenna
Review Reply:
FeliciaFelicis: Ugh, I die every time at the grave, it's always such a hard, hard part to watch and I've seen it around five times. Oh, I was so excited when he showed up again! I was screaming hahaha. Well thanks for reviewing on the last one, it was fantastic! Thanks for always being really supportive with this story and staying the whole way through!
Emma: Scene kills me every time. Yeah, Star Trek should definitely be your next go to movie because it's brilliant and I do have a good idea for a fanfic so we'll see how it goes. I'll try my best but now that schools starting and I have other activities things are going to get hectic again sadly. Thanks for following this story till the end, can't wait for the sequel and don't worry, some slapping will be necessary!
Madam Hawki: Aw, thank you so much, that is an amazing compliment for a writer to receive! Hope no one gave you funny looks when you were crying in class! That's something I would do! Yeah, I love Jim but he definitely needed to go. Straya will definitely be there for John, no worries there! Thanks for getting invested in my story and taking your time to review!
