Molly knelt down, placing a soft kiss to the rain-washed stone.
"I've missed you."
She smiled softly as she backed away to look fully at the grave. She hadn't visited Sherlock Holmes without John since the days after his funeral when she took a few moments alone to talk with him; even though she hadn't any work on at the time she told him of all the oddities in cadavers she had come across that she never quite got a chance to mention, even reading him some of her published papers on bruise formations that he had inspired. It's not as if she would talk about the other aspects of life with Sherlock, he'd have woken from the dead and strode away from his grave if faced with 'small talk'.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. I do miss you. I was going to visit sometime or another, and any excuse to kiss you, eh?" Her laughter got lost in her throat, she may well have been comfortable around the dead, but it seemed insensitive, unusual to laugh at their graves.
"Then again, I suppose not. I probably loved your hair more than I truly loved you, and I'm thankful that you knew that. You could have handled it a bit better, but I'm thankful."
The sound of rain pattered on her cheery umbrella, and she wished she's at least grabbed the navy one, colour and cemeteries didn't usually bode well together, and unless being placed lovingly on a grave, garish flowers weren't well regarded either. Then again, it was all very Molly and even if that had annoyed in, even in death, Sherlock wouldn't have wanted her to change herself in order to fit social cues.
"I know you told me conversation wasn't 'my area', but you also told me that I counted, so you're just going to have to put up with me babbling on. Which might be something new to you, me not stumbling over my words, or stumbling over at all, in front of you. I'd have gotten here, eventually, the being able to face you and still be me, the one who can construct full sentences, the highly credited pathologist, the woman with a PhD, who wouldn't have taken half the crap you threw at me. But you won't see that now, will you?..."
A few tears rolled down her cheek, "Oh, God. You really won't." And it was her little moment of weakness, before she gathered herself together to continue talking to him.
"Anyway, I was here for a reason. Thought you'd like to hear about John, maybe even Greg and Mrs Hudson? If I ever knew you at all I know you'll be missing them." I sound a little crazy don't I? "John's living with me, he might have mentioned it, I promised I would look after him and I really have tried my upmost. Ummm, no better way to tell you than bluntly, we're together. I'm not sure, but I hope you'd approve of me, you already remembered my name, so that's a start." She chuckled.
"I still see Mrs Hudson for tea sometimes, she still misses you greatly, but her sister comes to visit and she's found her smile again. Hugged me a lot when she found out about me and John, I'd say she approves. Greg is good, he didn't loose his job after all, actually got a promotion after I released the video. He's with Sally, who started to fight your corner, I'd almost forget that you two used to get along, in as much as you got along with anyone." The rain was slowly petering out, so Molly closed her umbrella, shaking the remnants of water from it and tying it to the strap of her bag having it hang loosely at her side.
"Thank you Sherlock. For what you did, for saving them, but you went about it the wrong way. You could be here breathing air and being bored, telling me off for trying to converse and shooting the poor walls of you're flat because Lestrade won't give you a case. You were so clever Sherlock, but if you'd have just asked for help, told someone the full extent of all this, everyone could have been saved, including you... I'm sure I'll be back soon, sooner than you'd wish I suppose, to keep you in the loop, I know that they come and visit too, but people can easily lie about their happiness, an outside perspective never hurt anyone. Plus they don't work in the morgue, so it's less likely they'll have odd deaths to talk through with you, I know it's stupid, but I'll always feel that little bit cleverer here, thinking on what you might say, how you might solve it." Molly smiled again, she had recently helped to solve a murder case for Lestrade as she rediscovered information in her postmortem report, she did a little digging and upon thinking to herself 'what would Sherlock do?' had returned to the body and found at least three incredibly definite clues that had previously gone undiscovered.
"I'll keep looking after him, just like I said. Not just for you though, for him, and for me."
Before she turned away, she placed another kiss on the cold black stone emblazoned with him name.
"Say 'hi' to my mum and dad from me. Tell them I love them and I miss them everyday, and if you even accidentally piss them off, Holmes, I'll kill you all over again. Also don't piss of John's parents, they may not be as forgiving towards your nature as he was, send them my love too, tell them I wish I could have met them, and don't scoff at the sentiment..." She said with a hint of knowing in her voice, if there was such a chance he was up there in the stars amongst a wealth of people the world had lost, amongst the people she and John, and he had lost, it was best to remind him if the kindness he could forcibly posses.
"Sleep well, Sherlock Holmes."
Unlike John, Molly left nothing at his grave-side, although she had noticed the distinctive NHS grey of Johns walking stick fallen to the ground by the side, she had propped it up against the grave again. No, all Molly had left behind was a clinging sense of sentiment and a sweet friendly kiss.