Against the Odds

Chapter 26: The Reichenbach Fall

John P.O.V.

It was pouring rain as John sat in a seat he had never expected to return to. His therapist sat across from him calmly as she asked: "Why today?"

"Do you want to hear me say it?" John snapped and his therapist replied: "Eighteen months since our last appointment." She looked at him pointedly and John asked: "Do you read the papers?"

"Sometimes." His therapist replied and John added: "Mmm, and you watch telly?" She just watched him and he said finally: "You know why I'm here. I'm here because ..." He broke off, closing his eyes in pain.

His therapist leaned forward as she prompted: "What happened, John?" John opened his eyes to stare at her and then he closed them again as he took a deep breath. He began: "Sher..." He broke off, unable to say the name as the pain threatened to tear his heart into pieces.

"You need to get it out." His therapist told him and John took another fortifying breath. He said slowly, his voice breaking as he barely managed to say the words: "My best friend ... Sherlock Holmes ... is dead."

***********

Three months earlier

"'Falls of the Reichenbach', Turner's masterpiece," the Gallery director was saying before the crowd of reporters, "thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

There was light applause and John nodded his head once in thanks as he stood beside his friend, both dressed in smart suits as they stood by the recovered painting before the crowd. Marie stood between the two men, also dressed in a fine dress but looking distinctly uncomfortable from all the attention.

The director produced a small box, handing it over to Sherlock as he said: "A small token of our gratitude." Sherlock took it and examined it with disinterest. "Diamond cufflinks." He muttered and added as he lowered the box: "All my cuffs have buttons."

"He means 'thank you'." John interrupted as the director looked a little offended and Sherlock asked in surprise: "Do I?" Marie sighed as John ordered: "Just say it." Sherlock sighed but said to the director: "Thank you."

He tried to walk off, but John stopped him, saying: "Hey." Marie tensed as the cameras all flashed, trying not grimace- otherwise it would end up in the papers. She usually tried to back out of these events, but Sherlock had insisted she come this time. He rarely did, only every fifth case or so when his patience wore thin and she was the only thing that would keep him sane.

After all, the last thing they needed was for Sherlock to have a fit before the cameras. Since John's blog became an internet phenomenon, more and more press was gathering around their cases. The Reichenbach case became the starting point, and the papers began to refer to Sherlock as 'The Reichenbach hero' amongst other names.

But while Marie chose to continually shy away from the attention, Sherlock began to accept it, stopping for his pictures and actually turning up for the thank you's, as with the Reichenbach director. No one commented, John just glad he didn't have to deal with Sherlock putting up a fuss anymore.

And so time went by.

One morning, Sherlock stormed into the living room with the morning paper as he spat: "'Boffin'. 'Boffin Sherlock Holmes'." He tossed the paper on the coffee table before John in disgust as he stalked about the room.

"Everybody gets one." John said soothingly as he reached for the papers while Marie just set her tea down on the desk as she read her book. "One what?" Sherlock asked as he paused beside Marie, leaning down to kiss the top of her head affectionately in greeeting.