She sat awake in the doorway to an empty shop, tears streaming down her face. She hadn't known him long, but it was enough to make her grieve. She looked up at the stars. She smiled.
"Come on Sherlock, it's easy!"
"But I don't need to know it!"
"Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter-" she was interrupted by Sherlock playing a fast paced piece on his violin. She laughed. He smiled at her and slowed down the tempo of the song. She closed her eyes and listened to the beautiful tune...
She missed him. She missed her father. She wanted to be back at 221B, making tea for the man staring into his microscope and assisting her father on his blog. Those happy memories were all she had left. Her friends had been killed, her family had been killed. Only her father remained.
She stood up when she saw dawn on the horizon. It was a long walk to Baker Street. She was going to be there for her father. Already she saw workers setting up their stalls, including a newspaper one. She looked at them. 'Death of a fake genius' she read. Fake? The anger swelled up inside her.
"NO!" she screamed and began pulling the newspapers to the ground, ripping them in anger.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" a voice yelled at her. She looked up, a policeman. She ran as fast as she could, her weak body trying to outrun the policeman who inevitably caught up with her and tackled her to the ground.
Tears fell onto her cheeks. She was so hungry, so alone and now she was going to be arrested. She felt the coldness of the handcuffs on her wrists as she was hauled to her feet.
"Public menace..." the policeman said as he dragged her towards a police car.
"Marie?"
"Greg." she looked at the man leaving the police car.
"What's going on?"
"Attacked a man selling newspapers and avoided arrest." said the policeman dragging her by her arm.
"You can go." he said to the man.
"But sir..."
"I said you can go." he looked at the man. He shrugged and walked away.
"Sherlock's gone Greg, he's gone..." was all she could say before braking down into tears again. She fell to her knees.
"I know Marie..." he said while kneeling down next to her. "He was a good man. I'm sure he had his reasons for..." he couldn't say it. "for... For killing himself."
"I was there... I saw Moriarty... I could've done something, said something-"
"Shhh... Now now..." he said while removing the handcuffs. "You couldn't have done anything. What happened, happened okay?"
She looked up at the older man. Then she was confused. "What are you doing?" she asked. She wouldn't have expected to see him just sitting in a police car.
"I'm on a case." he said. "Normally I would be with Donovan but I can't stand to be around her, not today. I know what she would say about Sherlock..."
She nodded. "Stupid bitch..."
Greg smiled. "Now why are you alone in the middle of London?"
"I left..." she began. She held back her tears. "I went to stay with my friend... He's gone... He got him too..."
Greg looked her in the eye. "Marie, its okay to cry." he stood up and offered her his hand. She took it and pulled herself up. "You're not alone in this. You have your father."
She looked at him. He was right. She knew John cared for her and she did for him, but she didn't want to see him now, not yet.
"Do you want me to take you to him?" he asked while opening the passenger door of the police car.
"Not yet." she said. "But can you take me somewhere else?"
He nodded and got in the car. He set the car into motion and they sat silently.
"Here you go..." he said. He was unsure why she had chosen to visit a psychiatrist's home, but she thanked him and left the car. She sat down just outside the large window at the back of the building. It began to rain. She didn't care, but when she heard his voice, she didn't know if it was her tears or raindrops on her face.
"My best friend... Sherlock Holmes... Is dead."