Marriage and Mental Illness (Sequel to Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles)

Reception

Sherlock's POV

The wedding pictures were tedious, though I suppose it'll be worth it in the long run. I hadn't even needed to fake a smile while taking them, I hadn't been able to wipe the smile off my face. Neither could John, my husband.

I loved that word, playing over and over in my mind. I would've never guessed that we would get to this point, marriage. I'd always assumed that those married were either fools or idiots. But here I was, standing next to the man that was my husband.

I gazed down at him, his hand pressed into the small of my back. He noticed my gaze and glanced up. His eyes were soft and warm, loving. "Hi there," he said softly, smiling warmly. He reached up to kiss me before squeezing my hand. "Let's go inside, hmm?" People were indeed waiting for us inside, the ballroom now set up for the reception.

I nodded, letting him lead me back inside. We'd already been talking with the rest of the wedding party, so the first to greet us was our close friends and family that hadn't been in the wedding. Alice ran towards us, a loopy grin on her young face. Her tall glittery stiletto heels clicked on the tiles, matching the sway of her dress.

She hugged us both, congratulating us. She stepped away as Olivia stepped forward, smiling radiantly. She hugged the both of us, congratulating us too. Olivia pulled away, revealing three people behind them.

One of which I'd already met. Alice's brother, Jack, was the stoic broad-shouldered young man that hovered close to his sister. He'd once spoken to me about long-term effects of abuse, trying to learn how best to help his younger sister. Jack didn't have much experience with it and had also been dealing with becoming a small business owner at the same time.

"Jack," I offered my hand. He took it, the small smile he gave was the only indication of joy. "Congratulations. I'm Jack, Alice's brother," he introduced himself to John, shaking his hand as well. The two exchanged pleasantries, the light shining off of Jack's neatly combed dark hair.

The other two people I'd only heard about, Olivia's parents. Both were from Nigeria, though only her mother wore traditional Nigerian clothing. I'd heard the story, Olivia's father had moved to England as a child, though her mother had grown up in her native country. Both of them shared Olivia's carob colored skin and tawny eyes.

Olivia's father, Afiba, stepped forward. His eyes were warm and full of life and laughter, laugh lines creasing his face. He offered his hand and a smile. "I've heard much about you both, Mr. and Mr. Watson-Holmes. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He shook both of our hands, his smile welcoming.

Olivia's mother, Nneoma, was a different demeanor. Her eyes were older, lighter, but calculating. She took in every move, analyzing it fully. Her rose-colored gele shimmered softly in the light. She smiled, despite her demeanor, and offered her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you both." Her accent was much thicker than Afiba's. We all exchanged pleasantries before it was time to move on to the next group. Her eyes flickered back to her daughter often, watchful. It was not apprehensive, merely protective.

John's army friends were next. I tensed, despite John's claim of friendliness. Two of them, Ollie and Henry were kind enough but Charlie still didn't care for me. I could deduce his judgment on my own, but it didn't help that John had kept us separate as much as he could, he wasn't as subtle as he'd thought. Both Ollie and Henry were joking around with him, and talking about their service days together.

John's arm was draped around my waist as he talked to them, laughing at their comments. Charlie was the only one who didn't join in on the other two's teasing, he only glanced uncomfortably at me. His red hair was longer, a sign that he wasn't in the service anymore, unlike the other two. John kept his arm around me, a silent warning for both of us to be kind. So neither of us said anything except when directly spoken to.