Chapter 29 – The wedding

And so 29 chapters in and it is finally the big day!

I found this one difficult to write, so I hope it's readable!

Enjoy and please review!

- and if you have ANY ideas for this fic, please PM me, I'd love to hear them!-

Sherlock stands stock still, facing the ornate wall in front of him, waiting for John to join him, walking down the slim aisle, passing row upon row of relations and… 'Friends'.

The moment John had said yes to the proposal, they had excused themselves, and were walking back to 221B, hand in hand, when John stopped, his eyes wide.

Sherlock had raised his eyebrows at the sudden stop, wondering whether John had had a change of heart, when all his fears were extinguished by with 5 little words.

'Who walks down the aisle?'

Sherlock snorted, covering his mouth with his free hand, as he supressed his laughter. 'That's what you're thinking about?'

John nodded, his innocence making Sherlock laugh more.

'Well…I'm certainly not going to, do you want to?'

And that's how they decided.

Sherlock refused to even consider walking down the aisle, and John much fancied it, and so that was the way it was done.

They were standing in a beautiful room; a white wall decorated with ornate pearl inscription chosen by the couple themselves.

The line which has been repeated so many times between the couple 'an eternity with you doesn't seem long enough, but it's a good place to start', placed in solid form between white and black roses which surrounded them like a garland.

Rows of alternating white and black chairs lay behind him, covered in a thin, delicate ribbon, a name tag with the intended person's name inscribed in calligraphy hanging onto the chair by a small clip, twisted into the shape of the initials S and J.

In the corner of the room, and large stack of beautifully wrapped presents; they had requested none, John instead requesting money donations to , where Sherlock had previously been treated for cancer. Along with this, however, people had taken it upon themselves to ravish them with unnecessary gifts, many not a surprise to Sherlock, who could deduce what they were by their size and girth.

It was perfect.

Sherlock turned around, to look at those who had kindly bestowed the happy couple with their presence.

On the front row, Mycroft, a small smile cast upon his usually solemn lips. He was dressed even more formally, if that were possible, and he was busy adjusting the flower in his button hole. Sherlock was the only one to notice the nerves showing on his face. Probably due to the best-man speech Mycroft would have to make later, Sherlock thought. Because that's what he was. His best-man.

Sherlock had requested this of his brother in person. They had been sitting at dinner in Holmes Manor, when Sherlock took a large gulp of tea and quickly blurted out:

'pleasewillyoubemybestman'

Mycroft had looked up from his newspaper, a shocked look cast upon his face. Sherlock was rapidly going a dark shade of red. 'What?' he whispered.

Sherlock grimaced, this was hard enough as it was. 'You heard me perfectly well. I won't repeat it.'

'You want me to be your best man?' Mycroft said, trying to stop the happiness he was feeling inside reaching his lips.

'Yes' Sherlock said solemnly. 'If you would, please'

Mycroft nodded slowly, looking back down towards his newspaper. 'I'd like that very much, Sherlock. Thank you'

Sherlock looked up, his lips pressed into a straight line. 'Myc…if Greg were alive, I'd ask him as well…you know how much-' Mycroft cut him off with a smile, his eyes glazing over slightly 'I know. And thank you for being so considerate, but I will be fine.'

Sherlock blinked back into the present, and looked at the others sitting, facing him.

Harry was sitting by Mycroft, she was off the alcohol for the moment, Sherlock noticed. And she was back with Clara. By them, there was other distant relatives of John's. All completely uncaring until there happened to be a moment that suited them, Sherlock thought. He didn't understand why John wanted them all there.

Near the middle, were Anderson, Donovan, Molly and a few others from St. Barts and Scotland Yard. They were all chatting comfortably, and Molly looked up and waved when she noticed Sherlock watching.

He smiled back, and turned to look at the other guests.

A sea of faces, all lost in the excitement.

Mrs Hudson was sitting near the back, she was already sobbing into her white handkerchief, and she was being comforted by a couple of teenagers from his now well-developed homeless network.

A few people he didn't recognise at all, but everyone seemed happy, excited.

These people were happy for him. For him and John, no one else.

Sherlock turned back, to face forwards, emotions overcoming him.

He felt an arm on his shoulder, and turned slightly to see Mycroft standing by him. He smiled at him, almost reassuring them both that it would be fine, when the music began to play.

It was recorded; a tune Sherlock had created on his beloved violin just for this occasion. It was slow and steady, beautifully executed.

He turned his head to see John walking up the aisle, a wide smile on his face, the thumb and forefinger of his left hand rubbing together in circles; he was nervous.

He was slowly making his way towards Sherlock, his stiff posture easing slightly with each step.

On his arm, was Mary Morstan.

It only seemed fitting that the person whom had been a constant in his life, more than any other family member, should give him away.

To others it seemed weird, but besides Sherlock, Mary was now John's best friend. They spent time together, talking about relationships, holidays, and their social lives. And she had tried hard to be as pleasant as possible to the man that had taken him away from her. So it was suitable. Sherlock didn't have any grievances when John had asked him of it. He liked her well enough, and he knew that she was now a part of their lives, even if he considered it a slight burden. But then, who wasn't?

John and Mary had reached the front of the room, and she quickly hugged John, kissing him on the cheek, and whispering 'good luck, darling'. She grinned up at Sherlock and stood on her tiptoes to hug him, he responded without hesitance.

She took her seat besides Clara.

Andrew, an old friend of John's they'd asked to do the honours of officiating the civil ceremony, stood in front of them as they beamed at each other.

He smiled at them both, and then glanced towards the spectators

'Today, ladies and gentlemen, is almost an ordinary day, if any day can truly be labelled that. The sun has risen like any other, many are happy, some are sad. But today. Today is the day where two halves of a soul will finally join as one. John and Sherlock have written their own pieces for each other on this fine day, and so, I shall hand the hard bit over to them!'

Andrew stood back, smiling. Neither Sherlock nor John had told the other about their plans, and so they looked surprised, and slightly worried about what was to come. John coughed, and pulled out a small torn piece of paper, to the guest's amusement.

'Sherlock.

I can't give you my heart today, because you received that from me in full many years ago. And so instead, I am giving you the promise that I will never ask for it back, for as long as you don't ask for yours.

You believe this ceremony is more for others than ourselves, but I must disagree with you. And not for the last time, I'm sure!

It's a physical way of promising things which I previously couldn't vocalise.

I promise to love you until my very last breath, my last second.

I promise I will trust you completely.

I promise to love you, exactly the way you are, inconsolably.

I commit my body and mind, mentally and physically, to you.

And so I give you my promise that I will follow you wherever you go, no matter where it may lead us.

You're my best friend and my greatest challenge. And to you, I commit my entire life.

John sighed, and looked up at Sherlock. 'It will always be you.'

Sherlock wiped away a tear, and pulled out his own, slightly less scruffy piece of paper.

'John. I could absolutely go on and explain why I want to marry you, but I do not wish to state obvious facts to guests that will quickly get bored, and any others are unsuitable for public consumption' he laughed, smiling down at his partner. But I love you unconditionally, and I can't function well without you.

And not only do I want to marry you because of unspoken promises, as you said, but also because I want every single person to know that we are together, united.

My heart literally beats, purely for you.

You've been with me through so much, which is why I feel this should also be addressed to our guests, because John, you know exactly how much you've saved me, but they do not.

And so you should all listen.

He was with me through the beginning of college. He stopped me from doing things that I would have regretted, and he accompanied me during holidays which previously would have been completely. When we gave up on our pathetic attempt there, University happened, as did a few other things that could have changed both of our lives. Cancer, for one. He was the most supportive, encouraging man, even when he didn't know whether I would live or die, and alongside my brother, he is the man I was breathing, and fighting for throughout it. Gregory Lestrade, who I have given the title of a second brother, also passed away during this time.

That affected all of us, Myc most of all.

But you know what? When both I and Mycroft needed comforting, it was John who was there, even when it wasn't necessary, and sometimes when we acted as though he wasn't wanted.

But he was, and without him, I'm sure I wouldn't be living.

And so John, I commit my life to you.

I'm sure we've said this countless times, but I'm counting on spending an eternity and a few days more with you. I love you.'

John had stopped himself from crying throughout Sherlock's vow, but the hiccups and sobs that were quietly emerging from a few of the guests sent him into a slightly hysterical mess.

Andrew walked forward the few stops that closed the distance, and he took a deep sigh, allowing the words previously said to sink in.

'The wedding rings John and Sherlock have brought today, symbolise unity, and more so in their case than others, eternity.

John? If you will'

John repeated the words after Andrew. They'd attempted at least to keep parts similar to an old fashioned wedding.

'I give you this ring, and I offer you my hand and my heart, for I know they will be safe with you. All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you'

John slipped the slim platinum band onto Sherlock's left ring finger.

Sherlock closed his eyes, sighing as the cool ring rested so naturally.

Sherlock reached for his own ring for John, and again repeated 'I give you this ring, and I offer you my hand and my heart, for I know they will be safe with you. All that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you'.

Andrew grinned as the couple stared into each other's eyes, their hands clasped around each other's.

'You two have shown your everlasting love today, and I am most incredibly happy to pronounce you married. Now, kiss your groom!' he laughed, as the guests applauded, many blowing their noses after finally wiping the last tears from their eyes.

Sherlock looked at John, unable to supress his happiness. 'I love you' he whispered, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to John's. He leant in to the kiss, only just managing to keep it child friendly. They finally pulled away, and John looked into the crystal clear eyes that were gazing upon him. 'And I, you. Forever'

They walked from the front of the room, down the aisle as a shower of confetti fell around them like autumn leaves.

They quickly greeted everyone who had come to the ceremony, but Sherlock pulled John into the car waiting for them as quickly as he could.

They had the dinner tonight, and then they'd finally get away.

'Honeymoon?' Sherlock grinned, kissing his husband.

John smiled, pulling his hands through Sherlock's soft curls.

'Honeymoon it is'.