Let The Shadows Win

My Purpose Exhausted

Sherlock made the coffee as he always did, yet this morning there was something strangely exhilarating about it. He was always up earlier than the rest of the house, way earlier than John who preferred to sleep right up until he had to be at work in twenty minutes, and so that big pot of coffee was always quite necessary for getting him up and on his feet in time. Yet this morning, well it was a morning Sherlock would never forget. He watched as his ring sparkled against the light that filtered through his new window panes, he cherished the way it glistened and bent around his silver capped walking stick, even the ring's help in decorating his fingers as he prepared the coffee pot was jaw dropping. His own ring, his own commitment, his own diamond! Sherlock though that only women were offered such stones on their rings, in fact he was quite sure that for men there were simple golden bands that were engraved differently so as to be distinguished from the actual wedding band. Yet it was appropriate, in fact everything about this bedazzled ring got Sherlock's heart racing like a little girl's, in which he was so overwhelmed and so happy to be wearing something so expensive and sparkly that he really didn't mind the stigma behind it. And besides, who was even going to see the thing? He had no friends...well he had one. Sherlock bounded over to the phone just as soon as he remembered to call, and after punching in the number for his old apartment complex he waited patiently, listening to the buzzing. Mrs. Hudson would be up, of course she would be, for it was six o'clock and that woman was still on the coal mining schedule, and so her brain always woke her around three o'clock without her body's consent. Usually she was miserable at this time of morning, but her attitude would surely change if she would only pick up the phone! Finally the beeping was interrupted by a grumbling "Hello?" followed by what was an unmistakable yawn.
"Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asked quickly, nearly jumping up and down with his anxiousness. For she was the only person he could ever tell, and so he might as well make it meaningful.
"Sherlock? My goodness, it's six in the morning!" Mrs. Hudson complained.
"I know, and I'm sorry. But it's important." Sherlock insisted in a sort of wheezing voice, so excited he could hardly contain himself but to scream it into the receiver and make Mrs. Hudson's hearing aids ring.
"Important? What? Don't tell me someone's dead?" Mrs. Hudson wondered nervously; however despite her tone of urgency she didn't sound too surprised. Almost as if she was waiting for the call to announce that Sherlock's killed another one.
"No, no it's better than that. It's...well John proposed! We're going to get married, I...I said yes!" Sherlock exclaimed happily, and with that he actually did jump in exhilaration. Mrs. Hudson started to spew her congratulations in what seemed to be loud, excited gibberish, and all the while Sherlock was squealing as well. Together they sounded as if they were speaking some sort of alien language, however anyone who may have observed the two of them would know very obviously that they were ecstatic.
"Sherlock darling that's wonderful! Oh my goodness, you lucky thing!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "So quickly too, after Mary left?"
"Well yes, of course. She was my poor excuse for a replacement anyway, it was only a matter of time before I came to reclaim my spot in John's heart." Sherlock agreed with a bit of a grin. Mrs. Hudson chuckled; obviously agreeing with Sherlock's conceited statement.
"Well, from what I can tell you two are the perfect match. What's the ring like then?"
"It's got a diamond, my very own diamond! It's gorgeous, it sparkles." Sherlock admitted proudly.
"Well sparkling is always good. I assume I'll be getting an invitation in the mail then?" Mrs. Hudson presumed with a little laugh, the one that she used when she was begin completely serious. It was more of a threatening chuckle if anything.
"Well I mean...if we do have guests you'll be on the list for sure. But I don't know if John knows enough people to fill a church, or even a folding table. I've only got you." Sherlock admitted with a shrug.
"That's sad, Sherlock. Why don't you go and make some more friends?" Mrs. Hudson wondered, once more regaining the role of protective mother.
"Because no one really likes me, and besides, they think I'm a psychopathic murderer." Sherlock pointed out.
"Well I hate to agree with them, but you sort of are." Mrs. Hudson debated, making Sherlock laugh a bit guiltily. She was right of course, he did in fact kill people, yet there was a difference between psychopaths and crazy people. Psychopaths felt nothing, or at least Sherlock presumed that was their definition. And he felt so many things, so many joys in his life, he felt love and purpose and exhilaration, and so he at some points would diagnose himself as merely crazy. There were some moments, however, when he would agree upon the term psychopath.
"I guess you got me there. Nevertheless, I'm still not going to go make friends." Sherlock debated with a little laugh of protest.
"Oh alright then, you go and be lonely, see if I care. And even if you don't have a big wedding, Sherlock, I should at least like a slice of the cake." Mrs. Hudson insisted, sounding very serious in the way she made her demands.
"I'll do my best, of course." Sherlock agreed with a smile. There was a momentary pause, and Sherlock expected Mrs. Hudson to finish off their conversation with a simple goodbye. That was what she usually did, however this silence lasted longer, as if she was off doing something instead of focusing on what she was supposed to be saying.
"I'm proud of you Sherlock, know that." Mrs. Hudson managed, now sounding as if she was crying tears of joy. "I'm proud that you were able to get over what you had no control over, I'm happy you left that life behind you and started anew."
"Mrs. Hudson you're not crying?" Sherlock clarified with a thankful little whimper, for he really didn't want the poor woman to cry.
"I'm just happy, Sherlock. Just happy." Mrs. Hudson assured, pausing now as the sound of her blowing her nose overtook their conversation.
"That's good, Mrs. Hudson. Because I'm very happy too." Sherlock agreed, trying to contain the emotion that was seeping out of his voice. He was trying to make it seem as though this was all very well contained, emotionally that is. Yet even as he listened to that woman sniffle he too felt tears sliding down his cheeks, tears of happiness and joy. Because he was proud of himself too, he was very proud. It wasn't every day that a convict was able to leave his life of crime behind, nor was it that a murderer was able to marry his former attempted victim. It was a curious case, yet a proper one all the same. Something so unorthodox but at the same time so...so meant to be.