Molly awakened to find herself alone in bed. She raised herself up slightly to see that Sherlock was standing at the window, looking outside through a gap he had made in the curtains. He hadn't bothered to put on his boxers nor the dressing gown she had packed for him, and she thought he must be cold.

She got out of bed quietly and shivered slightly. It was early, barely past dawn she could tell, and definitely a little chilly. She went to the wardrobe and took out the dressing gowns, putting on her own, then walked towards Sherlock.

He didn't move or say anything until she reached to place his dressing gown over his shoulders and put her arms around him from behind. "Did you have trouble sleeping? More bad dreams?" She asked softly, pressing her cheek against his back, now covered by the dressing gown.

She released him as he turned finally, sliding his arms into his dressing gown then placing them about her waist. "Actually I slept well," he responded, "until I woke up and wasn't able to return to it. Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day for the funeral." He kissed the top of her head. "Thanks for the dressing gown."

Her hands went to his shoulders and she looked up at him. "I figured you might be a little cold, standing there naked that way, not that I didn't enjoy the sight," she said in a teasing tone. She was glad he had said he slept well. She had been worried he might once again be plagued by unpleasant dreams. She herself had also slept well, but then again, she always did when Sherlock was in bed beside her. Usually, her only times of insomnia were when he was away from her overnight on a case. It was rare that he took cases these days that took him away from her for more than that, but even an overnight absence was enough to disrupt her sleep pattern.

Sherlock gave her a rueful smile. "To be honest, I wasn't even thinking about that when I got out of bed. I was just contemplating the day ahead. I was also thinking it is a shame my sister can't be here, but Mycroft did assure me everything is in place to send her a live feed of the service, so that is the best we can do."

"I'm glad to hear that. At least she can be there in a way and see it." Molly paused, then squeezed his shoulders. "Are you sure you'll be up to reading out the poem Victoria wrote? If not, I can do it."

His hands tightened slightly around her waist. "Thanks for offering, love, but I'll manage. I suppose we should take our showers and head downstairs for breakfast, not that I'll be able to eat anything. If I did, I'd probably be sick."

Molly pursed her lips. "I won't force you to eat this morning, honey, I know what it is like to have that knot in your stomach." She did too. She still remembered how she had felt on the day of her father's funeral, gosh had it really been over 29 years ago? That had been one of the saddest days of her life.

As if reading her mind, Sherlock pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I keep forgetting that you've been through this yourself. I'm sure it's bringing up sad memories for you as well."

Molly nodded, feeling the prick of tears in her eyes which she blinked away. She didn't want to get emotional about that right now. "It is," she admitted honestly, "but today is all about you, and me supporting you through it, not to mention the rest of the family."

Sherlock blew out a long breath. "I'm so grateful you're here with me, Molly. I don't think I could get through it if I didn't have you."

"Of course you would. Remember, we have God on our side as well. That faith can get you through the most difficult times."

"But you're the reason I became a Christian in the first place," Sherlock pointed out. "If I didn't have you, I most likely wouldn't have any faith either. I'd still be an atheist."

Molly looked at him seriously. "I'm not sure that's true. I kind of feel like God would have found a way to reveal Himself to you somehow, but it doesn't really matter at this point. What does matter is that you are a Christian and we are together. We know where your dad is and that knowledge is going to help us both get through today as well."

"True enough." He released his hold on Molly and she did the same.

To save time they showered together. Shared showers had a habit of turning into something more sensual but not on this occasion. They merely took turns with the flannel and washed one another's backs. Then they dressed for the day, Sherlock in a dark grey suit with navy shirt, Molly in a navy blue dress that almost matched his shirt. Molly reflected it was just as well she had bought the dress quite recently before they had gone out to dinner to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary. It was simple, yet elegant, and the v-neck of the dress meant that her anniversary gift, the journey necklace, was clearly visible.

Unsurprisingly, they were the first to come downstairs. It was about half past six, so still very early. Molly put the kettle on for Sherlock and herself and within minutes they were having a quiet cup of coffee together.

She decided to have a couple slices of toast, knowing it would be a long day. Unlike Sherlock, skipping meals usually had an adverse effect on Molly, where she would end up feeling faint as a result. She looked at Sherlock questioningly, just in case he had changed his mind about eating, but his slight shake of the head indicated he hadn't.

As Molly ate her toast, Sherlock went upstairs. She wondered what he was doing until he reappeared holding his Bible and current edition of the Our Daily Bread devotional.

He sat next to Molly once again. "Seeing as it is so early, I thought we could catch up on our reading."

Molly smiled at him. "Oh yes, we are a little behind, aren't we?" Whenever they fell behind with their reading, which of course did happen, they always tried to catch up. By now they had also been through the Bible in one year several times by following the suggested reading guide in the little booklet.

Sherlock took his reading glasses from his pocket and put them on, then opened the devotional and his Bible to the correct places and read out loud as Molly continued to eat. Of course she was finished well before he was done reading but she did not offer to take over. As often as possible she encouraged Sherlock to do the reading so she could enjoy listening to the rumble of his deep baritone. He would be very good at doing an audio version of the Bible. Of course, she thought, as she had done on many occasions with an inward smile, it would have to be the King James version. Sherlock definitely had a propensity towards more formal speech even in everyday life and she could imagine him reading all the old-time English text. She fancied that if he did so, there would be a lot of people who would want to read the Bible just to have the opportunity to hear his voice.

Sherlock was just finishing the reading for the day when his mother walked slowly into the kitchen, using her cane for support as usual. He paused mid-sentence and asked, "Good morning, Mummy. How are you feeling today?"

Molly remembered that her mother-in-law had retired early the previous evening due to a headache. "Much better, thank you, dear," she replied, moving slowly with her cane and dropping a kiss to the top of his head before doing likewise to Molly. "You two are up early," she commented. "Victoria and Christina are still asleep. I didn't think it was necessary to wake them just yet." It was only a little past seven o'clock.

"We had a few hours sleep," answered Sherlock. "Then we decided we would do a catch-up on our reading while everything was still quiet. We were just about finished."

Violet Holmes sat down on his other side. "Well then, don't mind me. I must admit that my own reading has been rather lacking as of late. I suppose really at a time like this we should be turning to the Bible even more, but it is difficult without your father here. We used to read together every day."

Molly offered her mother-in-law a small smile. "That's what Sherlock and I try to do as well." She looked at him. "Why don't you finish reading and then I'l say a prayer for us for today?"

Sherlock did so and then Molly closed her eyes as did Sherlock and his mother as she prayed, "Father, you know this is going to be a difficult day for us. I pray that you will give us strength to get through it and the comfort that only you can provide in knowing that today we are not really saying goodbye, but just saying 'see you later'. We thank you for all the blessings you have given us and for the assurance we have as Christians in knowing that we will indeed see my beloved father-in-law again. May you fill our hearts with your peace. Amen."

Sherlock and his mother repeated the amen and the three of them opened their eyes.

There were tears in Violet Holmes's eyes as she said, "Thank you for that, my daughter. You are such a blessing to this family."

Molly felt her own eyes blur with tears at her mother-in-law's compliment, and Sherlock reached over to squeeze her hand. "I feel blessed to be a part of it as well," she responded.

Sherlock rose and picked up the Bible and devotional, then handed his reading glasses to Molly. "Would you hold on to these for me, love?" he asked. "You know how I am, and I would most likely end up forgetting to bring them to the church. I will be needing them to read the poem."

"Poem? What poem?" questioned his mother, her brow furrowed.

"Sherlock is going to read a poem that Victoria wrote about her grandpa," explained Molly, getting to her feet as well. She would have to put the reading glasses into her handbag for church right away or she might set them down and forget them herself.

"She wrote a poem about her grandpa? The dear, sweet child!" exclaimed Mrs. Holmes.

"Indeed she did, and she even talks about her faith in it," said Sherlock. Molly smiled at the proud tone of his voice.

"Oh, I can't wait to hear it," responded his mother, smiling. Molly was pleased to see that her mother-in-law's expression had brightened at the thought. Just before Sherlock and Molly left the kitchen, his mother said, "Molly, you need to get Sherlock a chain for his glasses. It really did the trick for William. He was always losing them, but after he got a chain, he knew where they were at all times."

Sherlock snorted at that and Molly couldn't help giggling as she looked back at her mother-in-law from the doorway. "I've tried, Mummy. He refuses to listen, so I suppose he will just have to deal with having multiple pairs all over the house so there is always one pair around even if others are misplaced."

Sherlock smirked and took her hand, and they went back upstairs to their bedroom to finish getting ready. Sherlock still had to put on one of those ties he so detested in everyday life and avoided at all costs, while Molly needed to do her hair and makeup.

She put Sherlock's reading glasses into a pocket of her handbag and saw him carefully slipping the folded paper on which Victoria's poem was printed, into his trouser pocket.

Molly helped Sherlock put on his tie, thinking he really did look extremely handsome in a tie, even though the silver cross necklace he always wore was no longer visible as it usually was when he wore his shirts open at the neck. That necklace had been a gift from her to commemorate his two year anniversary of becoming a Christian and he rarely took it off.

After this was done, Sherlock said he would get their children up so that Molly could finish doing her hair and putting on makeup. Molly had always been a minimalist when it came to makeup, a little lipstick and mascara were often the only concessions she made to vanity, but on this occasion she wanted to look especially nice, even though Sherlock had told her on many occasions she looked just as beautiful to him when she wasn't wearing any makeup at all. She appreciated that, and he always made her feel beautiful, but even so, there would be a lot of people around who would be greeting them and offering condolences, and a bit of make-up would give her an extra measure of confidence to face the day.

By the time Molly returned downstairs, her hair nearly brushed and twisted into a side braid, and wearing just the right amount of makeup, the kitchen was full of Holmeses and Watsons.

Apparently Mark had taken it upon himself to help get his older cousins organised with food and eat with them at the dining table in the other room as Sherlock did the same with the boys. That left the Watsons room to eat in the kitchen with Mycroft and Elizabeth. The only person absent from this rather large assemblage of people was Sherlock's mother, and Molly assumed she had disappeared into the small sitting room for some solitude.

Molly sat quietly at the table with her family and observed them as they ate. The boys were quite cheerful, bickering once in a while about certain things. At least they weren't dwelling on what lay ahead. Victoria was definitely more pensive. Christina, as usual, was too busy concentrating on her food to do much else.

After breakfast was finished and all the dishes were cleared away, Molly asked her daughters if they would like their hair braided. She was a little peeved when they both said yes but that they wanted their father to do it instead. Of course, she knew she shouldn't feel that way. She herself enjoyed it when Sherlock braided her hair, but it did sometimes rankle that the girls so obviously preferred the way Sherlock braided their hair. Apparently he was more gentle with the weaving process, Victoria had told her. Molly thought that was undoubtedly true. She tended to braid fairly quickly while Sherlock took his time.

With that task assigned to Sherlock, Molly instead took care of seeing that the twins' hair was neat and orderly, rather than the unruly mops which often happened. She wasn't going to try and do anything drastic like slicking back their hair, but just wanted those curls to look slightly less ruffled. The boys had a tendency to follow their father's lead when it came to finger-combing rather than using a comb.

Mycroft had arranged for the limo to be there at nine-thirty so everyone was ready well in advance. The Watsons would be taking their car and then heading back to London after the wake, but the family would remain one more night at the house.

Shortly before the limo was due to arrive, Sherlock spoke quietly to Molly. "Mycroft told me he is going to look into finding Mummy a place to live in London as soon as possible. There are some retirement facilities that have apartments for sale. Mummy has also agreed for Mycroft to look into this house being listed as an AirBnB to provide at least some income throughout the year. We just need to tell him first what dates to reserve for us over the summer. He has already spoken to Donna and she said she would be happy to continue to act as housekeeper to make sure things are ready for any guests who may book the house for a holiday."

Molly looked thoughtful. "I guess we will have to figure things out for future visits once we are back home and have time to discuss it. It's a wonderful idea that means the house won't need to be sold."

Sherlock's lips titled upwards. "My brother does have some redeeming qualities at times."

Molly tucked her arm through his and they went in search of their children.

They arrived at the rather large, imposing church shortly before ten o'clock. Molly always felt slightly intimidated by the size of it which was much larger than her own church, but it was a magnificent structure which had stood for hundreds of years, and she had always felt the presence of God there on the few occasions she had attended in the past during family visits.

Reverend Richard Brown (or Father Brown as Sherlock teasingly referred to him in private, thanks to that television show by the same name) was standing at the front door of the church, and Molly suspected the vicar had been alerted to their impending arrival by Mycroft. He greeted the family and the Watsons and ushered them inside temporarily. They would return outside before other people arrived.

As soon as they set foot into the interior of the church building, Molly could hear the sound of a glorious soprano voice filling the air, accompanied by the music from a pipe organ. Apparently Amalie Baumgartner was there and practising with Eric, the church organist, for the funeral service.

"Wow, that lady has a really good voice," whispered Victoria to Molly as they passed through the foyer and entered the nave.

There were orders of service on a table near the back, ready to be passed out, and Molly picked up several and handed them to Noah, instructing him to put them in the first two pews for them.

She looked at Sherlock who was standing behind her with Scott. "You should ask Reverend Brown about when to read the poem," she suggested to him and he nodded, then walked back towards the vicar who was talking with Violet Holmes. Mycroft, Elizabeth and Mark were also still in the foyer area.

Noah returned, having completed his task. "Thank you, darling." Molly remained at the rear of the church with the children and listened as the soprano continued practising.

At the end of the piece, Ms. Baumgartner walked up the aisle to the family. By this time, the rest of the family and the vicar were also gathered together.

Mycroft intruded everyone to the soprano and thanked her for her willingness to come on short notice, to which she responded that she was glad she had been able to fit it into her schedule. Molly saw Mycroft discreetly hand her an envelope, presumably with the agreed payment for her services. She then left with the vicar to get some water.

Sherlock moved to stand beside Molly. "I'm going to read Victoria's poem right after Father-" at Molly's eye-roll he amended it to "-Reverend Brown introduces the service."

She nodded. "That sounds good. I saw in the order of service that Ms. Baumgartner will be singing Fauré's Pie Jesu right after the readings." She looked up at him searchingly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright at the moment. Not quite sure how I will be when the coffin arrives though," he admitted.

She squeezed his hand. "Just let me know if you don't feel up to reading."

Two men arrived minutes later and Molly realised they were the men hired by Mycroft to live-stream the funeral service for Eurus. They set up their equipment discreetly at the rear of the church.

The Watson family, who had remained behind at the house for a little longer after the departure of the others, so they could get their things together for the return journey to London, arrived shortly afterwards as well.

By the time people began to arrive at ten-thirty, the Holmes family had positioned themselves back outside the front of the church with the vicar to greet people as they arrived. Molly was proud that the children, who had been told they must be on their best behaviour, did as they were told. Well, they did fidget a little, but really, they behaved very well.

As people entered and first offered their condolences to Violet Holmes, then the rest of the family, Molly recognised a few of them from previous visits. Several of those who Molly had seen before mentioned how much the children had grown. Others remarked on how William Holmes had spoken so highly of his family. Molly could feel the warmth and sympathy of these kind people and found herself trying yet again to blink away her tears. She noticed some older people, who had obviously been close friends of the elder Holmeses, were also teary-eyed as was Violet herself. Victoria was struggling to keep herself from crying, Molly also noted, while Christina was shuffling from one foot to the other with a pinched expression on her face. The twins unsuccessfully tried to emulate the other Holmes men who had their hands clasped stoically behind their backs when they were not shaking hands with the people who were arriving, but failed, unsurprisingly, and Molly soon found herself holding both of them by the hand.

The procession of mourners seemed to go on and on. William Holmes had undoubtedly been well loved by his church family.

A few minutes before the service was due to start, as the hearse arrived, Molly heard John tell Sherlock he and his family were going to go inside to the third pew. As Molly knew, Mycroft had arranged for the first three pews to be reserved for the family and the Watsons.

Several men from the church had lingered outside, apparently having been the ones asked to be pallbearers in the absence of extended family to do so. Molly recognised a couple of them from previous visits to the church. The chosen pallbearers went to the hearse and picked up the coffin of William Holmes which would be placed on a stand at the front of the church. The flowers from the previous day were now resting on top of the coffin. Molly felt the tears welling up once again and this time she saw Sherlock's lips tighten and knew he was trying to exert control over his own emotions.

Reverend Brown walked ahead of the men carrying the coffin as the Holmes family fell in behind, Violet Holmes first, followed by Mycroft, Elizabeth and Mark, then Sherlock, Molly and their children.

Once the coffin had been placed on the stand and the Holmeses were seated in the first two pews, the funeral service began.

Reverend Brown began the service with a welcome and then he said, "Today we are gathered to celebrate the life of William Holmes, who has gone on to glory and is now at home with the Lord." He paused and looked over at Sherlock, then continued. "To begin, I will ask William's son, Sherlock, to come to the front and share something with all of us."

Molly rummaged in her handbag and retrieved Sherlock's reading glasses, handing them to him just before he rose from his seat next to the aisle and walked forward to the lectern. She looked over at Victoria who was sitting at the other end of the pew, hands folded in her lap. Silent tears ran down her face and Molly saw Christina take her sister's hand.

Sherlock cleared his throat and Molly looked back at him as he began to speak.

"Today, as we remember my father, I wanted to share a poem with you that was written by my daughter, Victoria. I hope you will be as touched by her words as I was when she showed it to me."

He cleared his throat again and Molly could see his hand trembling slightly as he put on his reading glasses and raised the sheet of paper with the poem. His voice, however, was perfectly calm and steady as he began to read. He read about his daughter's heartbreak at losing her grandfather, and he read about her simple faith that they would again meet again one day. The words were eloquent, mature beyond what one would expect from one so young, and Molly felt a sense of pride in her daughter's heartfelt words.

Halfway through the reading of the poem, Molly heard Scott give a huge sob and rest his head against her. She put her arm around him and kissed the top of his curly head, feeling her own tears spill over. Each of the other Holmes children was also expressing sorrow in the form of tears, and Molly could see her mother-in-law's frame in front of her shaking slightly as she was also obviously overcome with emotion. Mark, who was beside his grandmother, put an arm around her shoulders.

By the time Sherlock's voice had died away, Molly could hear sniffles and the sounds of noses being blown as other friends of William Holmes were overcome with emotion as well.

Then Molly watched as her husband carefully took off his reading glasses and replace the paper into his pocket, then walk slowly towards her to take his seat once again. Her one arm was still round Scott whose body was still heaving as he sobbed, not loudly, but definitely audibly.

And as Sherlock sat, she took his hand and he collapsed back into the pew as if he were a balloon deflating, and his held-in tears began to fall.

Author's note: Initially this chapter contained an actual poem written by my youngest daughter that she wrote for her grandfather. However, she did not feel comfortable in seeing it published here so I had to respect her wishes and omit it. Suffice to say though, I was just as proud of her as Molly was of Victoria. If you wish to read the poem, please request it in your review. My daughter is okay with people reading it privately.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the way I tried to incorporate the grief as well as the comfort in celebrating the life of William Holmes. I researched funeral practices in England as much as I could online but again, found it difficult to find much, so had to just use a bit of creative licence mixed with personal experience. I apologize for any inconsistencies.

Oh, and raise your hand if you'd like to hear an audio version of the KJV Bible as read by Benedict Cumberbatch in his Sherlock voice. I'd be off to buy that one but I fear I might get a little distracted from the actual text and just enjoy the sound of his voice! I suppose that would kind of defeat the purpose of reading the Bible.