A Photo Of John

Chapter 20

Molly's funeral was beautiful yet somber.

It was outside, a quiet burial.

The trees around her soon-to-be grave were a pale pink, and the sky was clear.

There were few people attending, two of them, Sherlock and John.

As they arrived at the venue, Sherlock whispered:

" I don't think I should be here."

John looked up at him thoughtfully.

" She loved you. She would have wanted you to pay your respects."

There were about 15 white chairs set up around a shabby coffin, with a brilliant bouquet of flowers set on top.

There was a picture of Molly smiling set up next to the coffin.

Molly smiling.

Sherlock felt like he wanted to vomit as he remembered her stench of death and cold eyes when they found her.

Pale and blue, eyes half open, staring into his soul.

John seemed to sense his emotions and gripped his arm tighter as he led them towards the ceremony.

As they sat down together in the white folding chairs, they started to notice some of the other attendants.

There was Lestrade, who was desperately trying to hold himself together.

His hands were folded tightly in his lap and his eyes were full of water.

He had a soft, quiet love for Molly Hooper.

To him she was beautiful and kind and sweet.

He felt like a fool next to her.

He had too much respect for her to suggest a sweaty love affair.

He was perfectly content admiring her from afar.

And now he would never know if she ever felt anything for him.

Sherlock met his eyes and received a horrible glare which softened when he noticed that tears were running down the consulting detective's cheeks.

Sherlock looked to the ground, ashamed, and Lestrade felt the tiniest bit guilty.

Then Sherlock noticed a woman in the front row, bawling.

Her face was aged, her eyes red and puffy.

She had short auburn hair, brown eyes and a slim frame.

Molly's mother.

Sherlock put his head in his hands.

He hadn't even considered her parents.

There we're a few other strangers, presumably Molly's " friends".

Everyone seemed to keep to themselves, wrapped up in their own personal mourning.

Finally, her mother stood up in front of the crowd and everyone's crying was silenced.

" My daughter. Molly."

She already had begun to choke up.

" A brilliant girl, but a sensitive soul. We hadn't spoken in a couple years and now I can't begin to regret this decision. She needed a mother and I wasn't there."

A tear dripped down her cheek.

" We fought over such a petty feud. In which I realized I was wrong but was too proud to admit it. But it's too late and dear god, if I could go back again..."