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John
"It was a lovely funeral Gracie, but I'm sure you would have hated it." I thought as I stood in the rain staring at the gravestone two simple words carved into it, Grace Watson. "Mom was here, Lestrade came and so did Mrs. Hudson, she was having a hard time, well we all were. Molly came and surprisingly so did Mycroft. However, they are all gone now Grace. Now it's just him and me. I miss you so much Grace and it tears me up inside to know that it was my fault. If I had been smart enough like you and Sherlock maybe I could have found you sooner, maybe I could have save you. I can't think about that right now, because when I do it makes me cry, and I can't cry right now, not in front of him, I have to be strong for him, I have to be strong for Sherlock. He's bad Grace, I mean really bad. He hasn't spoken since you died. He doesn't go on cases anymore and he barely eats. All he does is compose sad music on his violin, sleep and occasionally watch some telly. He loved you Grace. I can hear him screaming out your name in the middle of the night. How could you do this to him, to me? Why did you give up so easily? Why didn't you fight!" I mentally screamed as I took a deep breath and set my flowers down on the grave. "I'm going to the car." I told Sherlock. He nodded his eyes never leaving the gravestone. I turned to look at the gravestone one last time as I thought, "I love you Gracie. I'm sorry that I failed you." Before I headed towards the car, tears falling down my face.