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

Convictions

John's POV

The first juror stood, the woman with fire bright hair. It all came down to this. Everything we'd worked for, against, and with. It all came down to this.

The last five months of our lives.

I squeezed Sherlock's hand, a guesture he returned.

"Have you reached a unanimous verdict?" The judge asked, his reverberating voice the only sound in the room.

"Yes, Your Honor." Time seemed to slow as she handed the paper to the clerk.

"In the charge of murder of the first degree, we find the defendent guilty."

Guilty. He'd been found guilty.

Relief shot through my body like an electric shock, filling my veins in an instant. Sherlock audibly sighed, the tension beginning to leak out of him.

I glanced to Stewart, the smirk now gone from his face. All that was left there was pure, undiliuted hatred. His cracked lips were curled back in the faintest hint of a snarl, even as the judge brought down the sentence.

Life in prison. No possibility of parole.

The fury that lay beneath that gaze was enough to sent a last shiver down my spine from him.

My eyes turned to Maxwell next, the calm, collected nature of him. But even from here, I could see the pride, the hope in his shoulders. Behind him sat Afiba and Nneoma, the childless parents. Justice, at last, was done. Olivia's killer would never see the light of day again.

Finally, my eyes turned to those sitting next to me. Jack, relief, exhaustion, and hope filling his icy gaze. His lips were parted as he loosed a breath.

Alice, the shining tracks of tears slithering down her cheeks, a hand in both her brother's and Sherlock's. She nodded, as if to herself, as to convince herself it was true. It was over, this nightmare was over.

Then finally to my husband. Ocean eyes swam with thousands of emotions, relief and hope surfacing the most. Hope that we could get past this now. That we could finally start over from this, though never forgetting it.

His head turned, gaze catching mine. We were going to be okay.

People were beginning to get up, in the midst of all of it, Stewart was being hauled off. People stopped, watching as he finally disappeared. For good. We didn't have to watch him come in those doors anymore, didn't have to see the sickening smirk or the scarred tattoo.

People left around us, talking loudly about how they'd known all along. As if none of of them had been willing to assume Adams theories as fact. It was almost enough to make me irritated. Almost.

"We won," I whispered, reaching up to whisper into Sherlock's ear. He smiled, a single teardrop escaping.

"Yes. We did."

I nudged him, and he turned to Alice. She'd been hugging her brother, but now latched herself onto Sherlock as well, weeping.

"Oh thank God," she heaved. Sherlock rubbed her back, nodding. "It's over now. It's all over."

I glanced down to the courtroom floor, noting Afiba and Maxwell talking. Nneoma was making her way over, presumably to talk to Alice.

I was right, seconds later, Alice turned and ran to hug her. I couldn't hear much of what either of them were saying, just that they were both relieved. Relieved, and destroyed by this case.

Alice had let go of Sherlock and he grativated back towards me, smiling gratefully. The only people left in the room were the ones I knew best. My huband, the Bolaji's, Greg and surprisingly Mycroft, the Truby's. And of course, the man that had won us the case, Maxwell.