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Sherlocks POV 

I take a deep breath and push open the creaky black gate with the peeling paint, and saunter in. My feet crunch against the gravel of the winding path as I make my way towards her. I follow the path for a minute or so before turning left, and making my way forwards, my heart beating louder, faster, harder, with every step I take. 

I kneel down in front of her and released the breath I had unconsciously been holding.

'Here lies Rose Watson. A beloved friend, lover and daughter. May she forever rest in peace.' I murmured, my fingers trace over the gold plate lettering as I read the carefully carved words of the glossy headstone. 

"Oh god my Rose... why did you leave me?" I reached out and touched the picture of her that had been embedded in the headstone. 

"Oh you were the only one, you still are the only one. You, you were what made me human, and now your gone, I'm back to old habits, I guess you were my anchor, and now I'm drifting away, with nothing to hold me back. I know I have John I know I do, but he isn't you rose... Oh my darling rose..." I sighed " I have to get back now, before John comes looking, you would have loved to  have us all together, I just know it, he reminds me of you sometimes... I mean, with him being your brother I suppose that is to be expected. Well, goodbye until next time my rose"

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Johns POV

Stumbling into the flat Sherlock headed straight for his armchair and collapsed into it. It was the image of a broken man. He looked pale, and shaky, weak even.  Almost as if he had been taken by some deadly disease. 

"Sherlock, you feeling alright?" I asked, worried that he might be coming down with something

Glancing up with uncharacteristically emotional eyes Sherlock muttered "I'm fine John, just fine"


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