"Pray silence for the best man."
The room erupts in cheers and applause as I stand up, buttoning my jacket. I don't wan't it buttoned since I can barely get enough air as it is.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Family and friends... and um..." I look around. What was I going to say? "Others."
A pause of silence. I can't cry now. Keep it together, Sherlock.
"Uh..." Jumbled sounds. More silence. Goddamnit, Sherlock. Why are you being so sentimental?
"A-A-Also..." You're stammering, Sherlock. Shut up, Mycroft. Get out my head.
"The telegrams." John says.
"Right, um..." I grab the telegrams.
"Mmm." Lousy attempt at a throat clear.
"First thing's first." I wave the telegrams in the air "Telegrams."
"Well they're not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams, I don't know why. Wedding tradition." Nervous twitch. Go away.
"Because we don't have enough of that already, apparently." Not good. Definitely not good. I know, I know.
My mouth is moving, but what am I saying? It's from Mike. I hate you, Mike Stamford. You introduced us. You started it all.
"Special day. Very special day. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love." God, it hurts.
"Bit of a theme. You get the general gist. People are basically fond." I can't read through all of them knowing most of them are lies. Blatant, sickening lies.
"John." My-- No. Mary's John. I gesture at John. I don't know why though.
"My friend, John Watson." My friend...
"John." Okay, Sherlock. We get the memo. I told you to leave, Mycroft. Get. Out.
"When John first broached the subject of being best man; I was confused."
Flashbacks. They're funny things. Replaying fond memories like a film in your head. It takes up allot of space. But... I need it. It's... tangible. I can pretend, by re watching those memories, that he is still my John.
"and... You." it echoes in my mind. Me? Why me?
"I confess at first I didn't realize he was asking me. When finally I understood; I expressed to him that I was both flattered and surprised." You stared at him. I was processing.
"I explained to him that I had never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it." A little? You were in a state of alarm. I was not... I was processing.
"I nontheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was, for me, as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated." It's the hardest thing I have ever endured. The most-- No.
"Additionally; I thanked him for the trust he placed in me and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to be being moved by it." Liar. You were touched by it. I can't argue with myself right now. Please, shut up.
"It later transpired that I'd said none of this out loud."
Everyone laughs. But I only hear John's laugh.
"So... in fact..."
"Yes."
"You-you mean--"
"Yes."
"I'm your..."
"Best... man." "Best... friend?"
"Yeah of course you are."
"Course, you're my best friend."
Best friend...
I reach into my jacket pocket, taking the telegrams in hand.
I clear my throat "So..."
"Done that. Done that." I place the cards down.
"Done that bit. Done that bit. Done that bit." I look up at the crowd, then at John and Mary.
"I'm afraid, John, I can't congratulate you." What? Shush.
"All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing morally aligned compromised world." God, Sherlock. What are you doing?
"Today we honour the death watch beetle which is the doom of our society and in time, one feels certain, our entire species." Is this what you wanted? All eyes on you? Expressions comprised of shock? You utter co--
"But anyway, let's talk about John."
"Please." John comments.
"If I burden myself with a little helpmate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice, it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me." You called him your helpmate. What are you thinking? I-I'm not thinking.
"Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes in truth from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides." A compliment. Come now, Sherlock. What are you playing at?
"It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favour exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel. And contrast is, after all, God's own plan to enhance beauty of his creation.Or it would be of God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot." How many people do you wish to insult, brother mine?
Not many, just myself.
"The point I'm trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet." Oh...
"I am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful and uncomprehending in the face of the happy." Sherlock... Shut up.
"So if I didn't understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody's best friend." I... I need to swallow the tears as they rise into my eyes. I'm confessing, after all, the things I never said.
"And certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing." I-I can feel the salt stinging my eyes. Oh, John. Why did you have to marry her? Didn't you hear when I protested? The priest asked if anyone didn't agree. I did and still don't. I'm sorry, John. I tried. I really tried to be better.
"John, I am a ridiculous man. Redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship." Sentiment, Sherlock. It'll kill you. I know.
"But as I am, apparently, your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion." Because you were supposed to ask me. You were supposed to stay by my side. The two of us against the rest of the world.
"Actually, now I can." You liar.
"Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable." Hold it together, Sherlock. You're nearly done.
"John, you have endured war and injury and tragic loss. So sorry again about that last one." Finally, something true. Everything I have said is true. No.
"So know this. Today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved." Thank you, John, for what you have done. I owe you so much.
"In short; the two people who love you most in all this world." Did you... Did you just confess? He'll never know it.
"And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that." You fool. Shut up. Sentiment is deadly. Shut up. You're getting involved! Shut up! He'll never love you back! GET OUT!
"Ah, yes. Now onto some funny stories about John." But everyone's crying. Why?
"What's wrong? What's happened? Why are you all doing that?" What did I do this time?
"John?"
"Oh, Sherlock." Mrs Hudson says in a dampened voice. What did I do?
"Did I do it wrong?" I look over at John.
"No, you didn't. Come here." John says then wraps his arms around me. It feels... good. The room bursts into applause.
"I haven't finished yet." I say to distract my mind. He smells so good.
"Yeah. I know, I know." John says to me. Please don't let me go. Please, John. Stop, come back. Hold me again. I feel like I might faint. My knees are wobbly. What should I do? John? I don't know what to do.
"John?" I say as my vision fades to black. Hands catch me, John's hands.
"Sherlock?!" John's voice sinks into water as I lose full consciousness. Well that was... unexpected.
unedited.
A/N; (I wanted to add a dramatic twist to the best man speech in "The Sign of Three". I know we don't get to see an emotional side to Sherlock save during season four so I wanted to write a oneshot in which he's emotional. I hope you enjoyed my oneshot ^u^. Stay fabulous you lovely Sherllamas.)
-Alex🐝