Chapter 9: Case Closed~

John knew it would be hard. But his imagination never took him to just how hard it would be.

How hard would be the train ride back from Dartmoor, going...

"Sherlock?" John whispered, although they were alone, at this end of the train.

Rain was pouring down the train's windows. Sherlock leaned against the pane, fingers drumming at the glass, tracing the tears of England, like he wished he could wipe them all away.

So much sorrow. The train was filled with it ,like the fog that is London, her rain, her tears, her sadness. Pain that Sherlock Holmes had tried to ease. And this had been his reward.

"Mmm?"

He turned from the window, eyes still aflame. John began to wonder what sustained that fire within his soul, what kept him from burning out?

The rain came down like static tearing through the Universe. Passengers huddled into their coats, to retain what warmth that remained. And the wheels went on churning , the train's "chchchhcchhcchchchchhchh" sounds becoming synonmous ,in John's mind, with the soft puffing of someone in the stage of dying.

"Where are we going?"

Sherlock smiled, "There is something I want you to see, before we pursue Mary..."

John really didn't understand why. Why Sherlock? Young and brilliant...But more so ,he didn't understand why Sherlock forgave Mary. He knew why he wanted him to do so himself...But..why was he still helping the Watsons, when he might as well be resting in peace?

And then it hit John. Sherlock's reason, that is.

When he makes a vow...

One day I will send angels...One day I will come myself...

John burst into tears ,right there on the train.

Nobody could see the spirit that comforted him. One or two of the passengers closer to this secluded end, decided to move up a few more rows, and leave it in complete isolation.

And John drew up his knees and wept, letting everything go.

Forgiveness ,he decided, was like allowing something to die in oneself, that had been so sick and so wrong for far too long.

"Die ,John..." he told himself. "Let it die...Let it all be over now...Move on..."

His desicion was already made, he just wasn't ready to say it.

He didn't want to solve Mary's case. He just wanted to find Mary...To take her back again.

But when something dies, something has to be buried...Sherlock knew that probably better than anyone else, being he had died and been buried twice, which wasn't natural.

"My first and my last vow...Why are you crying?Didn't you believe me?"

"People don't do things like that though!" John gasped, and rubbed viciously at his eyes, "They only make promises as long as it suits only love you till it's time for them to go, till you're not ok..Then they pull triggers, and blow through your life like a bomb going off, and you're left in shrapnel ,somewhat remiscent of your rib cage, wondering if maybe the blackened debris was a human heart, and too dumbstruck to realize that it was your heart."

"My heart ? Yes ,you are "my heart". And I am very sorry that all of this happened to you...that I couldn't stop it from happening. But ,you ought to know by now, I am no where close to"people", John...And when I say I will do something...then I mean to do it..."

Suddenly the train began to slow down, and it filled up with a smoke,and a wind that howled like wolves. Sherlock hauled John to his feet.

John realized wide-eyed, and almost afraid, that the cars were empty now, that the driver had disappeared. That Sherlock somehow spirited them literally away,into a rain -misted ,midsummer eve's graveyard...

The graveyard where he was ...

John gasped, "Why, why have you brought me here?"

"Trust me..."Sherlock mutters, looping an arm around John's trembling arm.

John's knees start knocking, "I can't go back here...I'm sorry but...one time of you being ..here...was enough..."

"But I never was here, and we're not going to my grave anyway..."

"Sherlock, I..."

"Trust me..."

Sherlock basically dragged a weeping,kicking, and snarling John through the mist, that was too cool for summer,but not as cool as spring.

By and by the sun had gone down, and the stars began to show their faces, across the vigil of night.

There was a cute little stone,tucked away under a tree.

Sherlock pointed...John fell to his knees and crawled to it...

The stone said MARY MORSTAN.

John gasped," No..."he wailed,without sound..."No...please...I..."

He grabs at the grass around it,..."Dream... it was only a dream...No wedding, no child, no Sherlock. You've all been dead the entire time,and only in the mind of an insane ,discharged army medic!" he croaked...

"Oh, no...Oh, please, no...Oh, what sort of fairytales have I believed?...What has been the point anyway? Please..."

He bowed his head..."Please...stop. Stop ...in my chest...my heart and all that...I can't...It hurts too much-I know the reason!-I...

Same reason I became a doctor. Same reason I followed the world's-only-in-my-head consulting detectve...same reason I fell in love with an imaginary-dead assasin! I cared...I cared too much. Caring is a disadvantage. And love is dangerous...And I like danger, flirt with death...Well,maybe I should be dead..."

Sherlock grit his teeth, waiting for John's heart to unfold on itself, and tell him the truth. To solve the case for himself...which had been Sherlock's intent all along.

"NO!NO, NOT in my head. Nobody can be THAT clever."John rose up from where he knelt. The wolf-wild wind began to howl at the mist, and chase it like ghost-white sheep ,away over folds of onyx night.

"Nobody can trick themselves into love...No...No, this is not in my head...I'm not asleep,and I can't lie to myself anymore...

I have loved and I have lost,but the past is the past..."

He turns to Sherlock, who kneels immediately, and takes his arms, anticipating his reaction.

"You...You git you...you never intended to solve her case, you knew what I would say, what I would conclude,eh?Well, the case is closed, without being solved,as sometimes happens to us, eh,Sherlock?The problems of her past, are that ,the past. But...her future will be a privledge to me...if she will allow me...And we can start over...in your legacy. I don't want to dig into her past, Sherlock, I want you to take me to her!"

Sherlock smiled, having won, after all..."Follow me..."

He lead him through misty London streets, the mist turning to a sort of healing balm. John felt light as vapor, knowing that no matter what Mary chose, all would now be well. Because his grudge for her had died, and Sherlock kept his vow ,regardless of how she had thwarted his friendship and help, and ended his last case with a blood-and-lead based seal of fate. It may not be "happily ever after", but it would be really be "after"(which is even better than "over") now...

He lead John to Big Ben, as the night grew deep. And helped him climb the tower,to the face of the clock.

"Take my hand!"

John obeyed, curiosity freezing him. The clock struck midnight, and two huge, black gates to eternity opened, and Sherlock stepped inside.

They appeared in a room like a thousand, thousand revolving glass doors. Sherlock smirked, almost mischievously."You're lucky. We've caught her on the very last night of her life,if she had her way."In music city let the music die"What a cryptic note,clever girl..."

John looked at him in horror, as they stepped through the burnished ,spinning glass, to standing under the neon lights, and on the sidewalk by the Life Way bookstore,in Nashville ,Tennessee.