Escape Your Deduction - Johnlock [English Version]

Chapter 2 : Souvenirs

Sighing, John fell backwards on the comfortable mattress of his bed. Why was he thinking about that kind of things ? A late hour, a repetitive dream, and here he goes again into a reverie to which he was becoming accustomed. Too much accustomed for his taste.

He would have liked to talk about it to his therapist ; but according to the last circumstances, the mere fact that he was going to be in a psychologist's office gave him the creeps.
He would have liked to talk about it to Mary, but Mary wasn't here anymore, and she had stopped appearing in front of him. All that remained of her were the tapes she had left for the two men in her life. John had wanted and tried to watch them but he couldn't ; viewing his wife's posthumous videos was too complicated an effort to make. He only could have listened to a part of the one dedicated to Sherlock. The one where she was begging the sociopath : "Save John Watson. Save him, Sherlock".
Even if she was no longer here by their side, she knew what to do. She always knew what to do. Whether it was to reconcile the two men or to allow them to get closer, to take time for them, or even to support them in a case. And on top of all that, she had left him a gift, a part of her, something that made her eternal ; Rosamund Mary, the little Rosie.
John's eyes fell on the tiny human being resting in his equally tiny bed. He couldn't contain a smile to form on his face. How beautiful she was! How much like Mary she looked!

The day the doctor learnt he was going to be a dad, was the most beautiful day of his life. It was Sherlock who had unfortunately anounced it to thé new couple during the few seconds between his musical tribute with his violon and the dance.
What a sublime day it was ! John's smile widened at this lovely memory. Everything had been perfect. More or les like it has been in his dreams. The woman he loved, his best friend, all the people he cared about ; everyone was here. Even Sherlock's speech had exceeded his expectations.

By the way, the only little blunder he could find about this particular evening was indeed Sherlock. The man had had an irreproachable behaviour until he had anounced to the newlyweds that they were expecting a child. The three of us had laughed, had been joyful, during this moment but also during the whole evening. But after that, everything had changed. The ceremony had taken a different turn.

Sherlock had left the wedding much earlier than anyone, and as Mrs Hudson said "who leaves a wedding early ?". He left, without a word, without telling it to anyone, without looking back.

Or at least, this was the official version. What the guests didn't know was what happened just after, between Sherlock and John. Only they know these events, those who had upset the bash, upset John's life too.
No physical connection, no tears or cries, but only a few words shared in the calm of this warm evening rythmed as well by the music than by rhe happiness of the newlyweds and the guests.

Looking fully at Mary with the eyes of love, John had glimpsed Sherlock slip away. Then, after a few dance steps, he had seen him going through the front door while putting on his long coat.
John had excused himself to his wife with a light kiss on her lips, promising that he would be back before she knew it, and had followed the tall man into the warm darkness of the night.

He was wondering if Sherlock went out to smoke. It was the only explanation.

The former military man will always remember what his friend and him shared this particular night. He had so much questions. So much questions but no answer. Sadly, Sherlock Holmes had let him know that they will never talk about it anymore. Nevertheless, it was the only thing John wanted ; to discuss it, to finally have answers and clarifications.

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John trotted to keep up with his friend, who was not moving particularly fast but who, with his long strides, had already come a long way.
The consulting detective pulled up the collar of his perpetual coat so as to conceal his neck and the bottom of his face. He wasn't cold. He was just doing it because... he didn't really know. He just wanted to disappear in the fabric. To disappear and vanish from the party.

"Sherlock !"

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. His roommate's voice was jovial. After all, it was his wedding day. Before confronting him, he put a fake smile on his lips. John would want him to smile.
The doctor arrived slightly out of breath at the detective's side and put a hand on his arm while he walked around him because Sherlock still hadn't turned around.

Luckily, John seemed satisfied with the fake smile. Or maybe he did not detect it?

"Sherlock. What are you doing ?"

John might not be able to read people the way the younger Holmes could, but he had clearly seen his friend's eyes darken and turn cold, almost icy.

"I'm getting some fresh air."

"Lie."

Sherlock's eyebrows rose and an almost undetectable wry smile appeared on his heart-shaped mouth; he was the one who usually spoke in this way. From the smile that gradually appeared on the doctor's face, the detective deduced that he had done it on purpose.

"Where are you going ?"

"This way." Answered Sherlock with a nod towards the street.

"You... You're leaving ?"

"Enjoy your evening, John."

With these words, Sherlock decided to leave the party and his friend who, seeming not to agree with this decision, followed him.

"Why are you leaving ? You are not having a good time ?"

"It is your moment, John. Not mine."

"I don't see the problem here."

"It is not mine."

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"It's the end of an era." could have said Sherlock. It was exactly what he was thinking and what he felt long before the fateful day. He had never been able to put words to it. Until Mrs Hudson. It was she who told him, who narrated him ; her best friend, her wedding, the best friend leaving early, the end of an era.
Exactly what the detective had done ; he had reproduced everything.