Shadows of the Past (BBC Sherlock) -1-

25. Goodbyes and a Promise

Before I knew it, the accursed time was upon us. The days had seemed to blend together before the day of the funeral. The day had arrived so quickly it made me wonder where the time had gone. I remembered going out to find a black dress, as I didn't think to pack one. If I had known I was going to attend a funeral in London, I would have.

The funeral was a rather poor turnout. Not even his parents showed, which really broke my already-fractured heart. Nothing about my most recent stay in London was happy. Even the possible silver linings didn't seem very promising.

London was a very dreary place, and the people closest to me—as close as they could be to me at the moment—were going through one of the roughest times in their lives.

A day or two before the funeral, John had made it very clear that after everything was said and done, he wouldn't be returning to 221B. I understood, as I wasn't sure I would want to stay there either. As much as I loved Mrs. Hudson, I wouldn't be able to handle staying in an apartment that belonged to a dead man, not for much longer. It was luck that John and I survived the days following The Fall in that place.

I had this sinking feeling that this was the calm before the storm. Though John didn't know it yet, I had other plans. I'd follow him to wherever he was going to be next, just for a little while. For some reason, I couldn't trust him by himself. I also factored in that I wanted to confront him about what his theory was. I had to do it before I left for America, because for all I knew, I would never get the chance once I left.

It was hard to tell if John was suspicious of my motives for staying with him in the temporary place. He seemed okay with it and told me I could stay until I had to leave for America. I had a feeling at some point he would kick me out, even though he'd probably hate to do it.

It'd been a day or two following the funeral, and following John and I leaving Baker Street for a new place. Mrs. Hudson had called—through me—and asked if we'd wanted to head to the cemetery today. I'd almost didn't say anything to the poor thing, as the request stunned me. But it shouldn't have, considering I wanted to go.

I'd gotten John to tag along. I was sure he wanted to even though he didn't. It was like how I felt about going: I wanted to, but at the same time I didn't.

Just before I showered, I'd looked in the bathroom mirror. I scowled at the purple bruise on my forehead. It was another painful reminder of The Fall. Though it would disappear in time, I knew it would be there a while.

I'd made sure to dress warmly before heading out. John and I caught the taxi and headed to Baker Street. When we'd gotten there, I was the one who had to fetch Mrs. Hudson from her place. I made sure to get in and out as quickly as possible. I didn't want to so much as glance at the stairwell that led up to the place John and I once called home.

It was a very silent, sullen ride to the cemetery. Mrs. Hudson was sandwiched between John and me, a bouquet of flowers in her lap. I smiled solemnly at the beautiful pedals. I wanted to try and start conversation, but it was hard to figure out what to say that wouldn't involve someone getting upset. In the end, I resorted to looking out the taxi window.

I felt like I'd lived in London for years, with how unsurprising the scenery was to me now. A few months were really more than enough time to get used to a view.

Before long, our personal procession ended when the taxi pulled up to the cemetery. I looked out at all the various headstones, then up at the sky. I let out a pent-up breath. My heart was beating against my ribs.

One part of the hard journey was over, another was about to begin.

I stepped out first, helping Mrs. Hudson's tiny frame out. We both waited for John to come around from the other side of the taxi before we started heading over to the headstone. Each step felt like half of one as we walked side by side. I felt Mrs. Hudson slip her arm through mine. I didn't pull away.