She felt him leave her. It was earlier than expected and she suddenly felt bereft. That would be the last time.
She turned over into the impression he'd left on her bed, still warm, but horribly empty. She sobbed into the pillows, great heaving sobs that shook the bed-frame with vigour. She was shaking all over, she could feel the unease in the hands that, not a few moments ago, were knotted up comfortably in her father's shirt. She thought she might have been wailing, but in the moment she couldn't tell. The sight of his violin discarded on the floor sent a fresh torrent of tears down her red cheeks.
When the sobbing abated, she knew what to do. She picked up the violin and carefully took it back down the stairs to stow away back in the case. She then took her coat from the peg, slipped on her shoes and rushed through 221B and into the outside world. A cab wasn't easy to come by, so she ran. Her legs began to burn as the street lamps flashed past in a blur. Cars honked as she passed and strangers called out to ask if she was okay. Her eyes brimming with tears should have given them the answer. Grief fuelled her, her legs mechanically driving her to her destination. She knew the route off by heart, she'd walked it many times before.
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John saw her bolt through the iron gates, her eyes wide like a frightened deer and hands shaking uncontrollably. She caught his eye and burst into sobs, running into his arms like a hurt toddler. They knelt on the cold, wet grass together, clutching each other as they found it harder and harder to breathe.
"He's gone." She choked out into John's shoulder.
He simply rubbed her back with him palm in circles. "I know Rosie sweetheart. I know. Shh. It's okay."
"It's not okay." She wailed brokenly.
John's voice trembled as he repeated the words whispered to him so many years ago. "No, but it is what it is."
They hugged each other harder. They needed to be together now more than ever. John took a glance at the tombstone next to them, the jet black stone poking like a dagger from the muddy brown earth. It had two simple words carved into its surface, no emotional messages, no unnecessary information. Just simply,
Sherlock Holmes
YOU ARE READING
One Day
FanfictionSherlock is absorbed in his mind palace in 2017, before suddenly being pulled forwards to 2033. He gets to spend one day with a sixteen year old Rosie Watson, while she fills him in on her life so far.
