A New Mystery at 221 Baker Street

Chapter 44: Rest

Transcript provided by Ariane Devere/ Callie Sullivan

***

Alice sat on her couch, wrapped in one of Sherlock's coats. It had been two days since the fall and she hadn't left her flat other than to go upstairs. 221 felt empty with just her, John, and Mrs. Hudson. Outside by the front door was a small memorial dedicated to Sherlock set up by fans, past clients, and acquaintances. Alice and John thanked them in a post on John's blog.

"It's open," Alice called out from the couch, responding to the knock on her door.

Mycroft entered her flat and tapped his umbrella on the ground. "I just wanted to check in on you,"

"Why?" Alice asked bitterly, still staring at the blank space in front of her. "Mycroft, you always have an ulterior motive,"

"Truthfully, I couldn't bear to lose both of you. Alice, you have become one of my closest confidantes,"

Alice turned towards him, her eyes were red and puffy from crying but there was also a spark behind them. "Please leave your umbrella by the door," she gestured to the armchair by the piano.

Mycroft obliged and placed his umbrella in the stand. "Thank you. How are you doing?"

"I don't even know anymore. He said I had to do this for him, he wanted me to tell everyone that he was a fraud," Alice wiped a tear from her face.

"And will you?"

"That's the issue, Mycroft. This is when logic fights with emotion. He wanted the world to believe he died a fraud, why? And can we truly assume that Moriarty died on that rooftop? Did you collect the body? It's early June, why was he wearing his coat?" Alice stood up and went into her spare room. A moment later, she returned with a flash drive in her hand. "Here," she handed the drive to Mycroft "This is everything I could find on Moriarty, his underground network, his clients, any information that could be beneficial to you,"

Mycroft placed the flash drive in his coat pocket. "Thank you, Alice,"

*

Sherlock's funeral was a private affair. Mycroft had taken it upon himself to arrange the service. He had informed Alice and John that morning that his parents were grieving at home and would not make the trek to London; leaving only six people in attendance. Lestrade was the only one from Scotland Yard to come. He had mentioned that Anderson had quit his job after finding out about Sherlock's suicide.

Alice stood in front of Sherlock's grave after the funeral, she needed a moment to collect her thought and say her goodbyes to the man that changed her life.

"I don't want to believe you're dead. I can't bring myself to believe it. I know you wanted us to tell everyone that you were a fraud, but I can't. I can't let that be your legacy, I refuse to let that be your legacy. There were so many things I wanted to tell you. So many secrets that I have kept hidden to protect myself and you. You were the smartest and the most amazing man I had ever met. John and I owe you so much," She let out a small smile, "I don't know how he's handling all this, he won't tell me anything. I haven't told him yet: that I'm leaving London. I need to get out for a while. I just want you to know if you're still out there somewhere that I love you and that you're the only person that has ever been on the receiving end of those words," Alice wiped a tear from her face and placed a small letter on his grave before heading back to the gate where John was waiting for her.

Sherlock stood under a tree in the distance, watching the love of his life and best friend leave the graveyard. His heart broke hearing Alice's words at his grave.

"I must admit, your girlfriend was very thorough," Mycroft said as he walked up to his younger brother with the flash drive in his hand. "But then, I'd expect nothing less from her,"

"Alice has always been exceptional," Sherlock said as he walked with Mycroft to the car. "I have no doubt that she will continue being exceptional," He turned back to get one last look at Alice. I will return, Alice, and when I do I will never leave you again.

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