She walked across the graveyard dazed. She had just seen a dead man walking. She laughed at herself. She had just gone through an emotional roller coaster.
"I'm not going back to the flat... I can't..." said John as Marie approached the pair standing by the gate.
"Where will you go?" she asked with a slight frown of concern on her face.
"I'm going to stay at Harry's." he said and touched her shoulder, right where Sherlock had touched her. A wave of guilt passed through her. She couldn't tell him, it would put him in danger. Moriarty may be dead, but he still had men out there. "You can come if you like, unless you want to stay at the flat, help Mrs Hudson with..." he paused looked down at the ground and back up and her. "with Sherlock's things."
"You need some time to yourself." she said to him. "Don't worry about me." she put her hand on his on her shoulder. "You need your family, your old family, your family that have known you all your life. You don't need the burden of me on your hands. I'll be fine. I'll be waiting for when your ready." she took away her hand and walked towards the car.
She said goodbye to her father with a long hug before he entered his sister's house. Mrs Hudson gave her a sympathetic look.
"You're a brave girl, Marie." she said to the younger girl.
"Thank you." she said. She didn't know what to do with herself. She was confused with her emotions. Now she understood why Sherlock had tried to remove them from his mind palace.
Mrs Hudson and Marie took a seat in the car and took out her phone. She looked at the blank screen. A month ago she would have found texts from Jake or Mycroft or John or Sherlock, all gone from her life now. She clutched the cold plastic in her hands. She looked at her background of herself and Jake. She wiped away the tear falling down her cheek. How many tears had she shred in the last few weeks? So many... Too many...
She looked out the window of the car. She watched trees flash by, people, couples, children, pets, dogs, benches, bus stops, parked cars. The world was so boring. The more she watched the world pass by, the more she understood
Sherlock's frame if mind.
The car pulled up outside 221B. She sighed and looked at the black door. She opened the door and looked at the man in front of her.
"Marie Jackson?" he asked, recorder in hand, notepad in pocket, pressure marks on his wrist from his watch, obviously he had been moving it and looking at the time, he had been waiting a while, pen in his pocket. Reporter.
"What do you want?" she said while walking towards the door. He stood in her way, pulling out his recorder.
"You've just returned from Sherlock Holmes' funeral, how are you feeling? Sad, angry, bereaved?"
"No comment." she tried to walk past the man. She was angry. He kept getting in her way. She took the direct approach by walking towards him. He didn't move.
"But what about your father? Too depressed to return home after the loss of his best friend? Or was he more than a friend?"
"What the hell are you implying?" she shouted angrily.
"But who was Sherlock Holmes? He was a fraud. How did that make you feel?"
She stormed past him towards the building, where Mrs Hudson was holding the door open for her. He grabbed her arm.
"Get off!" she shouted while hitting his hand. She managed to free her arm and grabbed his recorder from his hand. "One comment, that is all I will give you." she pressed the record button. "I believe in Sherlock Holmes." she placed the recorder in his pocket and looked him in the eye. "Give that to your fucking editor." she said and walked into the door, slamming it behind her. She sighed, leant against the door and slid to the floor. Mrs Hudson looked at her and gave her a small smile. She returned the smile before slowly standing and walking into the living area. A huge smile spread across her face. She felt happy rather than depressed when stepping into the room. He was alive! She fell onto her back on the sofa. She felt a box under her back. She removed the cushion to find a box of nicotine patches. She laughed.
"Sherlock, I thought you were only meant to wear one of them at a time?" she said, stifling a laugh.
"This is a three patch problem, Marie. John and Mrs Hudson took away all my cigarettes..." he said frustratingly looking at the ceiling.
"What are you confused about?"
He frowned "I'm not confused... I just haven't made the right connections yet..."
"Yeah yeah Sherlock." she winked and took her tea upstairs. A few minutes later she heard a loud "YES!" come from Sherlock.
"Finally got it then..." she said to herself and smirked.
She smiled at the memory. She was unsure if he would return to 221B but she knew he was out there and that was a huge comfort for her.
She slept easier that night than she had in a long time.
Too well.
She never would have expected what happened next.