Consulting Fangirl

Chapter 21: John

A/N Alright, I updated early. You're welcome. Don't get too excited though. If you thought the last ending was suspenseful... Well, I'll let you figure it out for yourself. *wicked laughter in the distance*

I didn’t really have a destination in mind after storming out of the flat. It was rather impulsive of me, but what else does one do after a fight?

Rage still hummed in my veins like electricity, boiling my blood enough to keep me angry. I had no proof that Mai was having an affair. It wasn’t even the affair idea that was bothering me. She was hiding something, and I wanted to know what it was.

My feet began walking. I followed them, letting them lead me wherever my subconscious wanted me to go. I didn’t care much. I was too busy thinking about Mai and what she could be hiding, why she would lie to me.

Perhaps I was overreacting. What if it was something personal that she didn’t want to share? What if Dan was going through a difficult time and she wasn’t at liberty to say? If that was the case, I was a total prick for yelling at her.

But I saw it in her eyes. There was something more, and it involved me. I knew Mai, I knew when she was lying to me, and I knew that this was serious. I trusted her with my life, but with secrets that were centered around me? No, I didn’t trust her with that, not because she wasn’t honest, but rather because I knew she would twist the situation around in her mind so lying is the right thing, when in reality I’d give anything for the truth.

I could go to Dan. He might have some answers. It would be rather awkward though since we never talk. Besides, running to Dan after accusing Mai of cheating on me with him? That was wrong.

No, I couldn’t go to Dan. I couldn’t go to anyone else because I hardly had any friends anymore. Lestrade would listen to me, but I doubt he’d care much for my trivial marriage issues, at least that’s what they would be in his mind.

Molly wasn’t even an option. We had never been close in the first place, so trying to talk to her would be incredibly odd. She wasn’t the same after Sherlock’s death. She became quieter, more secretive. It made me suspicious years ago, but I learned to ignore it.

When my feet finally stopped moving, I looked up and realized where I was. I haven’t been here in years, not since the year I met Mai, back when things were bad.

Slowly, I wandered further into the place, eyeing the scenery around me. Everything looked as it was. No new deaths, only new flowers. There were a few families crying over various stones throughout the grounds, but he was alone. No one stood near that smooth black stone. No one cried over his grave. No one replaced his flowers or trimmed the lawn or said a single word to him in two years.

I felt horrible. My stomach lurched like I would be sick. I leaned against the tree for support. The world was spinning. With a near-sob, I turned and stared at the stone, analyzing it.

Two simple words stared back at me. Two insignificantly important words that meant so much to me, words I had almost forgotten about.

Sherlock Holmes

I would have collapsed right there if it hadn’t been for my soldier’s composure. Years of covering my emotions and building a mask for my expressions were hard to erase.          

As broken as I felt inside, my knees did not shake, nor did my breathing waver. The only weakness I had was my thoughts. They betrayed me, flashing with memories of Sherlock and I together. I wanted them to stop. I wanted them to go away, but they didn’t.

“Don’t be dead.” I whispered, an echo of the words I once spoke so long ago. “Don’t be dead you bastard.”

My phone buzzed, startling me from the vicious sadness. With a shaky breath, I pulled the device from my pocket and checked the message.

I dropped the phone.

As I ran from the cemetery, the words on the screen kept replaying in my mind over and over and over again until only one thought consumed my mind, consumed me so wholly I could see nothing but those words.

Not dead –SH