London, April 22nd
I am writing this entry with a heavy heart and if it wasn't for Mary I wouldn't write this entry at all.
Because today is a day to grieve.
To grieve what we lost.
To grieve that I lost my wife.
That my baby daughter lost her mother.
That the world lost a indescribable, loving person.
The grieve of losing Mary.The day started cold with rain and thunder.
I remember looking out of the living room window in 221b Bakerstreet and seeing the nature raging outside in the streets of London. And even though it was already April a sudden cold surprised Great Britain and other parts of Europe and made it snow and freeze in some areas.I remember thinking about everything that happened within the last month.
I found out that I have feelings for Sherlock.
Mary found out that I have feelings for Sherlock.
Mary and I decided to take a break but stay in contact for Lizzy's sake but even though she made me move out so now I am back in the Bakerstreet.Where else was I supposed to go? It was always this apartment that I ended up in. This apartment was always there for me if I had nowhere left to go. This apartment is my home. And no matter how often I denied to feel at home and at peace here... it was my true home.
With Mrs. Hudson downstairs who always takes care of us.
With Sherlock in the kitchen doing insane experiments or him just on the couch being bored out of his mind because no case was interesting enough for the great Sherlock Holmes.
And now we have a new addition to our really weird living arrangement. Lizzy.I remember waiting for Lizzy.
Since it was Friday Mary was supposed to bring Lizzy to me so I could spend the weekend with my little baby daughter. We agreed that it would be best if I have Lizzy only for the weekends because we were worried that she wouldn't survive more than two days in the same apartment as Sherlock.As the minutes passed I got worried and I started to feel that something was wrong. Mary and Lizzy had been supposed to be here half an hour ago. At first I thought it was because of the traffic but as my phone began to ring I knew that something was seriously wrong. I knew it for sure when I answered my phone and the hospital was on the other end. Asking if I knew a Mary Watson. Of course I do. She is the woman I fell in love with. The woman I married. The woman who gave birth to my daughter. The woman who accepted that I fell for another man while being married to her. I truly love Mary. I love her, but it took me quite some time to find out, that I didn't love her as a husband should love his wife. She was more like my best friend. Maybe the sister I never saw in Harry.
I wanted to burst into tears after the woman on the phone explained what happened but I just couldn't. I have to be strong. For Lizzy.
I remember how Sherlock looked at me, when I hung up the phone. It was like he knew something was wrong.
"John-", he started to say but I cut him off.
"I need to go to the hospital.", I said and without hesitation Sherlock threw on his coat and pulled me downstairs and outside to the streets where he got us a taxi that took us to the hospital.
The whole situation felt so unreal and at the same time so real.
To my surprise we met Lestrade when we arrived at the hospital."I'm so sorry, John.", he said sad but I ignored him and went past him, so I could follow a nurse to my daughter. And when I saw her a tear made its way down my face. She looked fine. The only odd thing about her was a scratch on her chin.
I took my baby and hugged her tight to my chest while the doctors explained to me that my wife was in the operation room where they tried to save her life. But her chance to survive was small they said... and it turned out to be true. She died the very same day from her injuries caused by the car accident she was involved in.
Later Lestrade told me that she must have been chased by someone and that the slippery frozen streets and the fast speed made her lose control over the car what caused her to crash into a brick wall. And if this wasn't enough the car that followed her crashed into her side of the car too but the person managed to escape before anyone arrived at the crime scene.
I was speechless. It was simply too much to process. I wasn't even able to feel anger at the person who caused all this. There was no brain capacity left for other feelings than the all consuming grieve that flooded every cell of me. I felt like I was going to pass out from the way my heart tightened and my lungs nearly gave out. They wanted to give me something against the stress, something to calm me down. But I had to be there for Lizzy. I couldn't just take some pills and turn into a brainless zombie, as much as I wanted to at that moment! Instead I let Sherlock take me home in a taxi and stood in the empty hallway of our house, waiting to hear her coming down the stairs, asking how may day went. But nobody came. I couldn't stay there and that's what I told Sherlock. Miraculously he just nodded, took Lizzy and said: "Go get some clothes."
An hour later I found myself in the living room of 221B Baker Street. I had put Lizzy to bed and was now standing there at loss at what to do now. She was my wall against everything that had happened. As long as I had to care for her, I didn't have to think about myself and my world that had just crashed around me. I wasn't able to stop the tears any longer and felt them streaming down my face. All strength seemed to leave me and I sank to my knees right then and there. Suddenly I felt arms surrounding me and just sank into them. I leaned into the support that was offered to me and rested my head on a bony shoulder. Sherlock had gotten down on his knees and now held me in a firm embrace.
At that moment it was the only thing holding me together. Now, I look back and cannot help to think that it was absolutely not like him to do so. But on the other hand IT WAS absolutely like him to do exactly that. Sherlock has always been there, in his own crazy way But when it counts I can always count on him to put everything aside and just be there to do what is needed. Even if it is a hug for a broken man.
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A Sign Of Four [Johnlock]
FanfictionTHE PERSONAL BLOG OF Dr. John H. Watson | Just the blog I'm writing about all the weird, bloody, wonderful and shocking things I experienced in my life also known as a complete mayhem. Half-time assistance of Sherlock Holmes, blogger and full-time d...