He watched the doctor walking to the church.
"I'm sorry John." he said and turned around to find the teenager staring at him in shock. He froze. They both stood looking at each other.
"Sherlock?" her voice broke. She couldn't believe her eyes. She blinked hard twice. He was still there. She took a step forward. Panic spread over the man's face. She couldn't know about him, she would tell John, he wouldn't be safe anymore...
She took another step forward. He couldn't turn and run, John would see him. He looked the girl up and down. A smile began to appear on her face.
"Sherlock is that really you?" she asked rubbing her eyes to prevent tears from falling, tears, for once, of joy. She took the last few steps forward, close enough to smell his familiar scent, and looked up at the man. She reached out her hand and touched his chest. She felt his beating heart.
She removed her hand and looked him in the eye, for once she could tell what he was thinking, feeling; he wasn't locking away his emotions. She saw the slight shine to his eye as he put his hand on her shoulder. He was sad but determined.
His eyes were an icy blue rather than their usual cool blue, he was angry and frustrated and annoyed. Yet there was still a small glimmer of hope in his cold eyes, hope that he could see John happy again.
She stepped back slightly and slapped him in the face. He looked down at her, more shocked than ever before, then he realised.
"John..." he said and looked away from her cold stare.
"Sherlock how could you?" she said in an angry whisper.
"Marie, look-"
"No, Sherlock, you look. Look at your friend." she said pointing in John's direction. "Every day I see him cry over you. He doesn't leave his room. He thinks your dead Sherlock!"
"I know but-"
"Don't you dare." she said. He frowned at her. Why wouldn't she let him explain? "Don't you dare." she wiped away the tear in her eye. "Nothing, nothing you can say will make him feel any better. He's alone now Sherlock! Not me or Mrs Hudson or Lestrade or anyone else can replace you! You're incredible Sherlock Holmes, but you've taken it too far-"
"Now you listen to me," he said, he was starting to get angry at the girl. "If I hadn't faked my death, he would be dead."
She looked at him. She could tell he was telling the truth...
"But why?" she asked, trying not to cry. "Why didn't you tell him Sherlock? Why did you tell him you were a fake?" her voice broke on the last word. "I know you're not a fake..."
He looked at the girl. He saw the hurt and anger inside her. He felt guilt. He never felt guilt. He had disposed of emotions that draw you back a long time ago. He sighed and placed his on her shoulder.
"Three bullets, three friends." he began. "If I hadn't jumped off that building, Moriarty would have killed Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and John." he waited for the girl to answer him back but she was being patient. He looked at theman striding towards the church. "If he thought I was a fake, I thought he would forget about me more easily..."
"No Sherlock, he will never forget about you, never in a million years." he looked at her. "He trusted you Sherlock, he never doubted you, ever. He thought you were brilliant remember?" she said and the man's mouth twitched into a smile at the sides. John Watson, he was such a trustworthy man. "How did you do it Sherlock?"
"Do what?"
She smirked slightly "So much for deductions." she laughed slightly. "It was Molly, wasn't it? She helped you didn't she?" he nodded in reply. He knew this girl was clever.
"Marie?" they heard the distant voice of Mrs Hudson calling. "Dear we need to go!"
She turned to Sherlock.
"Goodbye Marie. Look after John..." was the last thing he said before she nodded watched him walk across the graveyard, into the trees in the distance.
"Goodbye," she said once he'd disappeared. "Sherlock Holmes."