On The Side of The Angels

Epilogue

So this is a little epilogue i wrote incase i finally get my inspiration for my next book. PLease comment adn let me know if you like this.....and if you would like me to write a second book featuring the eleventh doctor!!!!

thanks!! - DD

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three years later

Three years had passed after Sherlock left John to pay all the rents by himself. But Mrs. Hudson's heart was bigger than the whole of England put together, and therefore to make sure that John did not feel Sherlock's loss and get over it, she let him pay half the rent.

Everything was kept the same way Sherlock had left it. His skull was in its place of honour - the mantelpiece. Every Christmas, without fail, John would play one of Sherlock's pieces he had managed to secretly record, and he, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and Molly would remember Sherlock for a whole minute before exchanging presents. John managed to retrieve Sherlock's trench coat, while ideally it should have been rotting away in one of those decrepit rooms in the mortuary. He just could not stand thinking that this important a relic should be wasted away. He also wanted Sherlock's phone, so that he could contact the Doctor, but Lestrade could not push his luck any further.

What hurt him most was that the Doctor and Donna had not visited him for the past 3 years. Did they even remember them?

It was a cool and crisp November morning. John was out in the street, as he trudged through the snow, holding his walking stick more firmly than ever. He consulted his shopping list under his breath and murmured, "Jesus, I have to face that manic machine again." He was beginning to get the hang of using the pin machine. He always kept his eyes off other people, especially during the cold seasons; because the way everyone dressed... he couldn't bear to think of it.

He must have been a bit too ignorant of his surroundings, because all of a sudden he crashed into a man. John fell hard to the ground before standing up again and looking at the man politely he said, "I am very sorry!"

He certainly looked like one of those wierd hippies from those TV shows, but he reminded John more of a Geography teacher. He had floppy hair and a long face with a protruding chin. He was wearing a tan suit (which looked a lot like the Doctor's), suspenders and a checked shirt, black skinny pants and finally, a bowtie adorning his collar. Nevertheless, John had a feeling he knew him. The man handed John his walking stick. He smiled at John and said, "No worries, happens to me all the time. Say, would you fancy an apple. You know, an apple a day keeps the doctor away." He held out an apple towards him, fresh and red.

"Well to be honest with you I would love to see the Doctor right now and give him a piece of my mind." John muttered to himself. But to the man's face, he said, "No thank you, I am alright. Good day to you." John hobbled away as fast as he could from the man.

"No wait! Take the apple! Sherlock would've-"

John's heart did a tiny backflip as he turned around and said angrily, 'No I don't want it. GO AWAY! " His eyes were flashing, like dark embers in the night. 

"Please believe me, I know it's been quite a trauma-"

"SHUT UP! I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU!" John shrieked as he walked away as fast as he could from this mad man.

The man looked at him sadly as he turned the apple around. The letters "I O U" had been carved delicately into its white flesh. "Trust me," he whispered, 'I am the Doctor."