Sherlock wants the wedding day to be perfect. Because it has to be.
For John.
If Mary is what John wants, then, of course, Sherlock wouldn't dare argue with that. And so he decides, after weeks of sleepless nights, that he hasto make it John's perfect day, never mind the fact that he can't share it with him in the way that he really wants to.
So, he spends hour after hour planning. Scouting locations, reading reviews. He does everything, from looking for the perfect curve in the cutlery to screening the guests and ensuring they've all got good intentions. He even learns about proper wedding conventions and traditions, what people should say and how they should dress. He makes sure he becomes and expert, and then, when that's finished he drops all cases and focuses the entirety of his energy on his best man speech. Buying books, calling for help from Lestrade, making prompt cards for it, the lot.
Because every detail is important. He needs everything to be just how it should be.
Which, means he can't let...feelings get in the way.
Nevertheless, however much he tries, the weeks leading up to the big day still end up being a complete emotional rollercoaster. He manages to hide it, like he always has, from everyone and everything in sight. But...
It's probably the worst he's ever been.
It's irritating because it interrupts the work. He'll be just in flat, researching at his desk when he starts to...feel it. A heavy emptiness, bitterness, clinging to his chest when he accidentally catches sight of John's deserted chair. His fingers twitch, and then start to tremble, and soon his throat feels like it's closing up and he finds himself struggling to breathe.
It happens once, twice...and eventually Sherlock decides to move John's chair to the storage cupboard. Out of sight and out of mind, isn't that the saying?
If so it doesn't work.
He starts to put off eating, sleeping. Spends more and more time composing on the violin. He doesn't leave the flat, and nearly always ignores his phone when it rings. Just existing starts to become unbearable and he itches for drugs, but he can't, not yet. He's got one last job to do.
None of this matters though, because no one can see him and no one knows what's happening, and he intends to keep it that way. He only has to hold it together for that little bit longer, throughout the big day, and then that's it.
But as it seems to draw closer and closer, creeping in on him like a silent thunderstorm, an unyielding darkness, he's not sure he's going to be able to.
When the morning finally comes, with its sunshine and bustle of excited people, he holds them off for an hour longer and stands by the window alone. He tightens his shirt collar and looks out onto the placid London street below.
He'll miss it, and all the ridiculous adventures they had. But he knows it's right to say goodbye. Things would never be the same without John.
He takes a deep breath and walks, past the kitchen and to his room where his suit is waiting.
"Right then." He murmurs slowly as he approaches. "Into battle."
It feels like the hardest thing he's ever done.
The morning of the wedding is an agonising struggle, but somehow he manages to pull through. Every minute that goes by is another devastating stab in the chest, but overall the ceremony does go to plan.
He meets John outside Baker Street and they travel via a fancy black cab to the church. He smiles, makes a few jokey comments. But really it hurts to see how good they look together in their matching black suits. John looks incredible, all clean shaven and bright-eyed. He smiles softly and pats Sherlock on the shoulder as they wave the taxi driver goodbye, and that hurts too.
The church is a pretty, quaint building on the outskirts of London, just like Sherlock imagined it to be. After a few photos and minutes of meaningless chatter they step inside and Sherlock swallows.
This is it. No turning back.
His fingers are trembling.
His breath is becoming hard to keep steady.
Mrs Hudson finds his hand in the crowd and squeezes it. He's always wondered if perhaps she understands.
He locates his seat and waits patiently for the service to begin. After a moment, the door bangs, and everyone turns as Mary enters. Her white dress is dazzling and she grins brightly as she walks up the aisle. Sherlock's eyes flicker to John.
He's grinning too. Looking at her in a way that Sherlock remembers well. It's a look that used to only ever be reserved for him.
Suddenly it's all too much.
He feels his eyes start to prick with tears. But he can't, he can't cry yet because then his eyes would go all red and puffy and everyone would see, and worst of all, John would notice and probably figure everything out.
That cannot happen.
He drops his gaze and takes another deep breath. Mrs Hudson places her hand on his thigh and whispers, "Steady dear, it's nearly over."
But it isn't. It's only just begun. The service seems to last years, everything changes to slow motion, and when the priest asks if anyone objects, Sherlock can't help but clench his fists. When he asks Mary the question, "Do you take John Watson to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Sherlock can't help but whisper "I do." Silently under his breath just so that he can have a chance to say it, once in his life.
And when they step outside, and Sherlock is asked politely by the photographer to step out of the photo, because, just the married couple can be in this one, Sherlock turns away and shields his eyes with the excuse of a cough.
He thought he could handle this. He thought, perhaps, that he could let John Watson go.
But as the tears come, silently slipping down his cheeks, he realises that he can't, and he never will.
The worst part is that he's still got hours of the wedding left to go - the speech and the reception - hours left of pretending that he's ok when really he knows that the only person he's ever loved is being torn away from him. Really, it leaves him with nothing left to live for.
He takes another heavy breath and wipes his eyes before turning back to the crowd. He can't give up, not yet. He's just got to get through this day. He's got to do this for John.
John is what's most important.
