Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING
Transcript by: Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan
John and Mrs. Hudson were standing over Sherlock's grave, both we're still in shock over the death of Sherlock. They stared at the grave silently until Mrs. Hudson finally spoke up, "There's all the stuff, all the science equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school." she looked at John, "Would you ...?"
John winces slightly, "I can't go back to the flat again – not at the moment." She takes his arm sympathetically.
"I'm angry." he takes a deep breath through his nose, clearly trying very hard not to break down and she pats his arm gently.
"It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that. That's the way he made everyone feel." She gazes at the grave, "All the marks on my table; and the noise – firing guns at half past one in the morning!"
"Yeah."
"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine – keeping bodies where there's food!"
"Yes." John closes his eyes as Mrs. Hudson continues her rant, her voice breaking.
"And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings-on!"
John turned to her, "Yeah, listen: I-I'm not actually that angry, okay?"
"Okay," she turns away from him and pulls her arm free from his, "I'll leave you alone to, erm... you know." Fishing a tissue to blow her nose and crying, she walks away. John looks down at the grave and drew in a deep breath. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Mrs. Hudson was well out of earshot and then turns back to the black, marble grave.
"Um... mmm. You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Umm ... there were times I didn't even think you were human, but let me tell you this: 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, and so... There," he blows out a breath and whimpered softly. He looked over his shoulder again as he walked over to the headstone and put his fingertips on the top of it, "I was so alone, and I owe you so much," A tearful breath escapes him, "Okay."
The soldier turned to walk away, but only gets to the foot of the grave before he turns back to it again, "No, please, there's just one more thing, mate, one more thing: one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't... be..." His voice breaks as her chokes on his tears, "... dead. Would you do ...? Just for me, just stop it," he gestures to the grave below him, "Stop this."
A sigh escapes his lips and he lowers his head. He stands there silently for a moment before covering his face with a hand and weeping quietly. After a few moments, he finally wipes his eyes and sniffles, before raising his head and coming to attention for his best friend. He nodded in salute to his fallen friend and he turned sharply on his heel and walked away.
He slid into the cab next to Mrs. Hudson and it started to drive off. They had been sitting for just over a minute when a bright white light filled the cab and both blacked out.
When John came to, he was sitting in a comfortable armchair with people he knew very well around a TV screen in a semi-circle. Closest to the screen on either side were two figures shrouded in shadows. Next to the one on the right was a third shadowed figure, this one clearly a woman while the other two appeared more male. Besides the shadowy female sat the reporter girl that had ruined Sherlock's life, Kitty Riley. John felt anger bubble in his chest, and the feeling only grew as he noticed Anderson and Donavan were sitting next to her. The only two things between John and the three of them was Mrs. Hudson and the odd blonde woman sat between them. He wondered who she was and why she was there with them, but only for a moment, before he turned to look at the group on his other side. Beside the lone shadow figure on the left sat none other than, Irene Adler. Sat next to The Woman, was a very displeased Mycroft Holmes, it was hard to tell if he was upset by the death of his brother or by the person he was sitting next too. Besides Mycroft sat Molly Hooper, the woman was squirming awkwardly in her seat seemingly not knowing what to do about the situation. Finally, between John and Molly seat Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. Lestrade looked ready to say something, but someone else beat him to it.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" the blonde woman frowned deeply as she stared at them.
Mycroft let out a huff, "Clearly we're here to watch something..."
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" John asked, trying not to sound annoyed.
"Mary Morstan." she looked at John.
John nodded slightly and introduced himself to her. Everyone else in the semi-circle, that they could see at least, did as well. After they sat in silence for a moment and the screen suddenly flickered to life One word appeared on the screen that almost broke John.
"Sherlock"