Lace POV
"It's just wonderful to have you back derie." Miss Huden says with a hand in my shoulder. We are both standing on the lounge waiting for Sherlock to appare out of the bathroom so I can tell him about the text message.
"It has been hard Martha. It will continue to be hard." I say looking a the floor.
She looks into my eyes as I look up and she greet me into a hug. Taking a step back I see Martha open her eyes and run outside the door screaming
"I'll give you two some privacy!"
Confused as ever I turn around to see Sherlock in only his duvet, too half of him showing and the other half hanging dangerously low. I quickly close my eyes and put my hands over them.
"Locky! Honestly!"
"What?"
"You do not just walk into the lounge like that!"
"I just did."
"You have a point."
A silence hangs in the air. I will tell him.
"I-"
"SHERLOCK! We have a case!" I hear John saying, grabbing his jacket.
I walk over and grab Sherlock's and put it on. He has a spare in his room. Groaning he walks smoothly into his room and puts one on as well as some other clothes and runs down the stairs and out the door.
"Lace." John starts.
"Yes, John?" I ask annoyed.
"One, it is great to have you back again and two, who texted you last night? I could see your unsettlement last night."
"Moriarty."
"Have you told Sherlock!?!"
"I think it is best, John Hamish Watson, that this is my last case with you and Sherlock."
"Why?"
"Spoilers. My Dear Watson."
At with that I walk out of the door with a hedgehog looking man trotting behind me. Maybe that is what I could do. Get them both something that resembles them. Badger..no....ottor and a hedgehog. Little plush toys or a keyring and I'll leave a little note in sherlock s violin for him.
I know how he hates goodbyes, just as much as he hates spiders.
Snapping out of my thoughts I catch up to Sherlock and examine the body. Eyes at medium rate to each other. Hair long, used dry coconut shampoo. Nails manicured but damaged from scratching. Scratching what? From the splitting of the nails, there is blood seeping out of them. Concrete? No the end of the mail isn't jagged enough. Wood? Potential. Body feature, posh. I open his eyes and see his pupils very dialated and had eye liner in his eyes.
"Name?" I ask.
"Doesn't matter he is dead." Anderson says from the corner of the room.
"Through all my days of life and death. Sorrow and pain. Torture and happiness. Love and hatred a name is the most important part of a human being. Do not mistake names for lables. A name is the best feature in any person, it controls the heart. It can make a person cry of sorrow for not seeing them or for seeing them for too long. It can make them happy from the hope of seeing them or it can make a person happy for not seeing them. Names are important. Names are what keep a person human. Names are what humans are all about. It is to be feared and loved, sometimes all at once. Sometimes it is even the last thing said to someone as they disappair. Just maybe. Even just with a sliver of hope, it can be the home of someone and can fill up the hole in their heart. Do I make myself clear Philip Anderson." I say whilst examining the body. I ask again.
"What is his name?"
"Greymorėso McCorty."
"Relitives?"
"None."
"Well he died by self inflicted drugs and was writing 'goodbye' as he died. Cool. Last case finished now to do still in."
Everyone was thinking but no one said anything.
"See you boys later." I say patting Greg and John on the shoulder.
"Goodbye, William Sherlock Scott Holmes." I whisper, leaving a kiss in his lips and a question in his head.
'What the hell?"
I walk down the streets with teary eyes and manage to find a plushy hedgehog and ottor in Kmart.
"So you guys have a scrap of black, purple and beige material around? Also a needle and thread?" I ask politely
"Yes we do ma'am. No charge."
"Thank you, Mairia."
Smiling sweetly she passed me the objects I asked for and I get to work.
When I am finished I look at my works of art and smile. I then grab out a fancy pen and a beige coloured piece of paper, write and all I need to do now is go home and give the two fabblttes there two secretly. Sneaking in I see Sherlock asleep on the couch and John must be having dinner at Mary's. I walk over to the mantle piece and place the two toys on it. A note to John placed in front of it. Re reading it I make sure it is alright.
Dearest John Hamish Watson.
I have many favours in which I want to ask if you. But I will ask only three. The third for if I dont return. The second for if I do return and the first for a favour from a friend.
One: Look after yourself. Look after Martha and look after Sherlock for me. He will need a friend while I am gone. I cannot think of a higher capable man in order to do so.
Two: send me as far as possible away from Sherlock and Yourself. If I do come back I may not really be me. I may have a twisted mind and I may be dying. Whatever I tell you send me away unless I say these exact words: I will always be Sher Locked.
3: Tell him I'll never forget him. No one will be the same. No one will compare to the weirdness of him or the emotions that you carry.
Note: If Sherlock says his violin says funny tell him to check the inside of it. I love him. I will miss you.
See you around, John Hamish Watson.
After reading it I fold it up and place it right in front of it. I slip to Sherlocks violin and I slip the note in there. I am about to leave when I look back at him, walk back over and kiss him. A goodbye kiss as some call it. I pull his coat tighter to my body and head out the door, not looking back.
Sherlock POV
I wake up with my eyes towards the lounge ceiling. I must have fallen asleep. I stand up and look around the room. Lace isn't anywhere to be seen. I look around the room again and notice John standing near the mantle piece.
"John I'm bor-" I start and then hear him sobbing.
I immediately stand up and walk over to him.
"What is wr-"
Then I notice a letter in John's hand and I take it from him slowly, reading it. I pick up the ottor with a scarf and black trench coat. It has been hand sewn. I feel tears prick my eyes and I do what I always do when I'm sad. I walk over to my violin and face outside. I blink and see LaeLae looking back at me. I open my mouth to scream her name but I blink again and she is gone. I start to play her song when I notice the vibrations are not right. Then I remembered what it said in the letter and I reach inside my violin and pull out a beige piece of paper. I open it and the tears flow down my face like an waterfall at its harshest time in a loophole.
My Dearest Locky
How far you have grown. How much you have become. It seems I am no longer needed and may never will be needed ever again.
"Your always needed" I mutter.
I have to disapear I understand if you do not understand but know I love you. Oh, William Sherlock Scott Holmes I love you more than the stars and all of the galaxies put together. But now I believe I have seen the stars long enough and the galaxies shall start to dissapare. It is time I see the blackness of a world without stars or galaxies. Eventually every sun will burn so bright and so big it will soon fade. I know if I ever see you again you will not forgive me for you having someone you love die and come back so many times it is too hard to bare. Do not shut out anyone else than me. I will not be able to forgive you if you do.
Goodbye My Dearest Love. Goodbye My Dearest Sherlock Holmes.
LaeLae.
Now I remember all the pain. I will always love her. Then the words echo in my head.
"Goodbye, William Sherlock Scott Holmes."
