it is what it is

chapter 1 - a wrap up

lil disclaimer - i do not own the rights to sherlock in any way, the characters for this story are not in any way my creation, just an adaption of bbc sherlock and the story that was meant to be told.
this story begins where the middle of the lying detective left off, before eurus existed as a character, because in my mind the final problem did not nor will ever exist as a logical continuation of the lying detective; therefore, this is the way moftiss should have written the final episode instead of the queerbaiting mess that actually happened.

john
i gasped and leapt up from the couch.
eurus. moriarty. the explosion. the governor's dead wife. molly and the horrendous i love you.
what a horrible puzzle, i thought. i couldn't believe my mind had drafted up a story that didn't make any logical sense! i laughed as i remembered how i'd escaped the well while still attached to chains. i was glad it wasn't real, moreso because it wouldn't have made any sense if it had been. what a dream, i thought.

at least everything was back to normal.
sherlock and i solved the case of culverton smith (what a bastard) thanks to his clever placement of a recording device, locking up that nutcase hopefully forever.
the cases are the only thing that keep me sane these days. with mary gone i've been struggling to raise rosie on my own whilst also keeping up my 'career' as a consultant to the world's only consulting detective. i'm his little sidekick with a blog, yes. oh, shit - the blog!
my one job and i had completely forgotten to type up culverton's case - what a bloody idiot.

my feet slid across the carpet and i landed in my chair with a thump, snapping my computer screen up. i did a quick scan of the blog - the counter made a little ding as it rose from 1895 to 1896. finally, moving forward.
the more people that enjoyed the blog, the more i could have a bit of fun with it.
but what to call this case? the lying detective? no, that doesn't make much sense at all.
the final problem? no, that makes it seem like too much of an ending. just because i have a kid and haven't been able to accompany sherlock on all our adventures doesn't mean it's over. it is a logical progression of my character to be unable to go on cases since i now have a child, mind you. can't have any plot holes, now can we!
oh, i've got it! i grinned at my cursor hovering over the 'add title' box.
the man with the twisted memories.
(ah, yes, a logical title for an adaption of an old arthur conan doyle story!)

i gently laid my fingers over the keys, ready to tell the tale.

the story began with a man named culverton smith. making a name of himself as a philanthropist, he hid in plain sight by also advertising himself as a serial killer. possibly the most evil villain we have encountered thus far, and thwarted by the incredible, brilliant, one-step-ahead mind of sher-

fuck. stop it, watson. try again.

possibly the most evil villain we have encountered thus far, we knew it would be difficult to defeat him this time. sadly, i wasn't much help for this case, but sherlock was luckily able to catch culverton red-handed.

i typed the rest of the story hastily, because it was about time i made a visit to... somewhere important. i thought about the best way to close out the article.

by hiding a fourth recording device, sherlock was able to capture culverton's confession and i was able to catch him in the middle of strangling sherlock. another case solved, and hopefully another life saved.
i've been told by many that they read my blog because of our adventures. they don't really know much about sherlock and i and who we are as people.
and see, that's the most important part.

it's who we are that matters.
the adventures we go on, the great tale of sherlock holmes and john watson, those are just stories. countless impossible stories of all the incredible things we do.
but that's just the thing.
those stories aren't what shapes us as people.
who we are is what causes the stories in the first place.
where would we be without sherlock's deductive skill? nowhere.
so don't let anyone tell you that who you are doesn't matter.
who you are is the most important part of any story.

yikes, john. a bit sappy, but very true.
i grinned, posting my story just as the counter hit 2017. watson and sherlock, it's an entirely different tale now. a tale of not only the little adventures and crime-solving sprees we go on, but also the tale of watson and sherlock and how we came to be.

i shut my laptop and gently lifted rosie into the stroller.
i took one final glance around the room.
this was where mary and i had made our home. this is where we first took rosie, where we had our short but blissful time as a married couple... until everything changed and bloody-

no. not today, john. only happy thoughts today.
i looked at the house, completely barren of all memories. i liked it better that way. i would make some new ones.
i gave a small smile at the 'sold' sign in front of the house and buckled rosie into the car.

time to get settled in to the home where i really belong.
221b baker street.