John and Mrs Hudson had gone to Sherlock's grave. They stood there holding onto each other like the parent and partner that Sherlock was without. Mrs Hudson made her excuses to leave John alone for a minute.
"I'll wait in the car." She touched his arm one last time before she cautiously walked back to the church.
John turned to make sure that she was far enough away before he turned to look at the headstone again. 'Sherlock Holmes' is all that it says. That's all that it needs to say. And even that is too much.
"You told me once that I didn't owe my life to Jim or to Darrel but I think what you meant was that I didn't owe my death. Because now, I owe my life to you. You said that I needed an excuse to wait around for reasons to live and now I have one. You knew..." John felt his throat shrink to a pin-hole but he carried on, "You knew that after this there would be no way that I would do... that. So, now I just have to wait for those reasons you spoke of to find me. I wish that you were one of them. I wish that you weren't a reason in my past but in my future. But, I wouldn't have a future if it wasn't for you."
John blew out a long breath, almost whimpering. He took a look over his shoulder again before he stepped forward and touched his fingertips to the top of the headstone. "I was one of the dying among the living and now... I owe you so much." He took another breath. "Okay." John turned to walk away but changed his mind and turned back.
"I just don't understand why, after everything, you would do that to Mycroft and to, to, to... to me. I just wish you hadn't done this, I wish I hadn't said to you that life didn't always work that way and I wish I had just nodded and let you talk me into it. You were good at doing that, 'give me half an hour' you said. It took you all of two minutes." John looked at his left hand. "It hasn't shaken since you..." He looked down and swallowed.
"I will never understand this but... I owe you Sherlock Holmes and, if you'll excuse me, I have a debt to pay." As John paused for a second to look at the headstone he looked at his reflection. 'Sherlock Holmes' seems to be engraved on his chest. And you always will be. John had stifled the emotion he could feel building in his throat but for a second he let go and one tear rolled down his cheek. Quite right too. He then stood to attention and saluted the headstone before dismissing himself and turning sharply on one foot and marching away.
In the distance, by a tree stood a man that John didn't see. His face was red with emotion as tears roll down it and his mouth was pursed together. It was as if this man was afraid that if he allowed it to open he would call after the man. The emotion on his face was a mixture of relief, pain and regret. He closed his eyes as the last tear rolled, he slowly and gently wiped them away before he turned up his coat collar and looked at his phone.
What are you going to do now? - M
The man thought about it for a moment before he replied.
I'm going to play dead - SH
Then the man was gone.