Chapter Text
ACT THREE, SCENE ONE
[AS SOON AS THE AUDIENCE IS SEATED, LIGHTS UP ON A GRAVEYARD. JOHN AND MRS. HUDSON ARE THERE, AND MRS. HUDSON NODS SADLY BEFORE MOVING AWAY. JOH IS LEFT STANDING, STARING AT A GRAVE.]
John [trying for conversational]: You know I don’t hear the music anymore. [epic fail at conversational] No solos, no Comforts of Tea, no instrumental music setting the mood. [deep breath] Nothing. Especially not street ensembles. What on earth do I care if it’s raining or not?
[STRANGLED SOB ESCAPES HIS LIPS AS HE HANGS HIS HEAD.]
John: God.. I can’t believe I just said that. [that sad laugh that people do sometimes; a sniff] There’s just nothing to sing about now.
[AS HE SIGHS AGAIN, A FIGURE IN A DARK COAT APPEARS UPSTAGE, SOMEWHAT HIDING BEHIND A TREE YA IT’S SHERLOCK]
John: It’s just.. this is so hard.. [deep breath] You saved me. You saved me, and I saved you and then.. [deep breath] I love you, you wanker. I fucking loved you. And … [brokenly]it’s taken me three years since your death to accept the fact that I .. l – loved …. Love … you.
[PUTS HIS HAND ON THE TOMBSTONE]
John: I was…
[AT THAT CUE, THERE’S A VERY FAINT SOLO VIOLIN PLAYING A WARPED VERSION OF THE THEME THAT PLAYS CUE WARPED THEME]
John [exhales through his nose]: I was so alone…
[HE DOESN’T FINISH THE SENTENCE, INSTEAD, HE SHAKES HIS HEAD, AS IF TRYING TO GET THE THEME OUT OF IT. CUT OUT WARPED THEME]
John: No, I .. no. I’ve got to be at the clinic.
[STARTS TO WALK AWAY, BUT PAUSES]
John [quietly]: I don’t care. I don’t care if you were a genius, or neither…. [deep breath] You changed my life. Either way. [shaky breath] I’m s-sorry. I.. I just need to stop pretending that you’re going to come out of the woodwork and explain everything like you used to.
[AWKWARDLY PATS THE TOMBSTONE, NODS, DOES A MILITARY TURN, MARCHES OUT OF THE GRAVEYARD. HE DOESN’T SEE SHERLOCK, WHO DUCKS BACK BEHIND THE TREE. AS SOON AS JOHN IS OFFSTAGE, SHERLOCK POKES HIS HEAD OUT FROM BEHIND, AND MAKES HIS WAY OVER TO STAND THE EXACT SAME WAY JOHN WAS LAST STANDING. HE EVEN PUTS HIS HAND ON THE TOMBSTONE, AND HE STARES AT HIS HAND FOR A MOMENT, AS IF IN AWE AT TOUCHING THE SAME SPOT THAT JOHN DID]
Sherlock [voice harsh and rough]: I was so alone… and I owe you so much, John Watson.
[LIGHTS DOWN]