To: Sherlock Holmes
Subject: One year later
- I don't need to explain.
- I still believe in you. I still miss you.
John visits Sherlock's grave on June fifteenth. He doesn't have anything to say. He doesn't need to say anything.
He stares at the black, shiny stone. He doesn't let it get dirty or dull. He might be the only one who cleans it. Maybe Mycroft or Greg does, occasionally. Sometimes, he notices that the tombstone is shinier than when he left it, or there's no mud on it after it rains. It always stays glittering and gleaming. John's glad that it does. Whoever is watching over it, at least he is not the only one who still believes in Sherlock.
In sixteen months, he will be married. Mr. and Mrs. John Watson, living in London. He can put those old gay rumours to bed. He laughs to himself at the poor choice of wording.
He touches Sherlock's tombstone lightly before he turns away, wandering out from the graveyard once again.
To: John Watson
Subject: (No subject)
- Failure to deliver message.