221B.
I sit in my armchair, dressed but with my feet bare and tucked together in front of me. One hand is propping up my head and I gaze into the distance, lost and alone.
***
Taxi.
Mrs. Hudson and I are sitting in the back of a cab as it drives into a graveyard.
Hudson is holding a bunch of flowers. Not long afterwards, we stand beside each other in front of a black marble headstone. The flowers are now resting at the base of the headstone.
"There's all the stuff, all the science equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don't know what needs doing. I thought I'd take it to a school," Hudson says. She looks at me. "Would you ...?"
"I can't go back to the flat again – not at the moment," I mutter. She takes my arm sympathetically.
"I'm angry," I spit out. I take a deep breath through my nose, trying not to break down. She gently pats my arm.
"It's okay, Rachelle. There's nothing unusual in that. That's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table; and the noise – firing guns at half past one in the morning!" She yells out.
"Yeah," I mutter, looking at the headstone. It shows the words: SHERLOCK HOLMES. I sigh.
"Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine – keeping bodies where there's food!"
"Yes," I acknowledge her. I close my eyes as she continues, her own voice breaking.
"And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings-on!" She yells.
"I know, Mrs.Hudson, but I'm not that mad," I mutter.
"Okay," she replies. She turns away, letting go of me. "I'll leave you alone to, erm... You know," she says as her voice breaks. Crying, she walks away, fishing out a tissue to blow her nose. I look down at the grave, drawing in a deep breath. I look back over his shoulder to see that Mrs. Hudson is now out of earshot, then turns back to the grave again.
"Damn you, Sherlock. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for more. You were the best man, and the most human- human being I had ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, and so... Shut up. I can't even look at your grave right now without wanting to punch you in your dead face. Why did you leave me?... I love you, Sherlock, and I hope you know that I'm not lying... I was so alone, and I owe you so much," I stutter. I take a tearful breath. I turn and start to walk away but only reach the foot of the grave before I turn back again. "No, please, there's just one more thing, one more thing: one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't ... be ... Dead. Just for me, just stop it. Stop this," I wish. I gesture down to his grave. I sigh and lower my head and stand there, broken. Reflected in the smooth marble of the headstone, my figure appears to have the name SHERLOCK carved directly across my chest. I lower my head further, covering my eyes with one hand. I weep. I just let it out. My tears, my cries. My everything.
I wipe my eyes, sniff deeply and raise my head, coming to attention in front of my best friend. Nodding in salute to him and giving myself permission to be dismissed,
I turn sharply on one heel and then walk away.
Standing some distance away under a tree and obscured from view by other headstones, Sherlock Holmes watches his best friend walk across the graveyard until she disappears from view. He looks reflective for a long moment, then turns and walks away.
***
A/N: I know it was short (that's why I did double update). I just didn't want to add more due to the upcoming time skip. Shit, I cried last chapter writing it. I AM PATHETIC. JKJK stop. Enjoy!
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You Are My Mystery {Sherlock Holmes}
Fanfiction#1 in #sherlock #5 in #sherlock #7 in #johnwatson #1 in #sherlockholmes 8/9/22 (All rankings are out of 1,000+) She finally moved out of her adopted house. See, being a sociopath, people tend to not like you. That also includes her birth parents. At...
