"He still visits your grave you know." Mycroft mumbled as he passed the sugar to Sherlock.

"Yes, I know Mycroft. He comes every Sunday to read me the newspaper. He knows only to read me the murders and stuff like that." 

"Sherlock, a word of advice. It's been three years, how long do you think John will keep going to your grave? I believe one of these days, a Sunday, you will see if he's there and he won't be. He will accept your death and move on."

Sherlock glared at Mycroft, "I still have things that I must take care of. Two of Moriarty's friends are still out there. But don't worry brother dear, the net is closing around them."

"Mark my words Sherlock, John is moving on, and moving on fast." 

Sherlock shrugged at Mycroft's remark and made his way out of the Diogenes Club. He bumped into someone on the way out, but Sherlock was too busy to notice who it was. John.

"Who was that?" John asked.

"An old friend," Mycroft mumbled. "What do you need John?" 

"Have you seen the newspaper? They have finally closed the investigation, after three stupid  years, they have finally closed it."

"What was their conclusion?" 

"Suicide." John said looking down.

"Lestrade kept the case open as long as he could, but I think we all need to move on."

A look of anger passed on John's face, then surprisingly it subsided. He knew it was no use to pick a fight with Mycroft, and he also knew that Mycroft was right.

"I also got this in the mail today." John mumbled as he passed a letter to Mycroft. Mycroft opened it and saw that it was a copy of Sherlock's death cerificate.

"I requested a copy of it when they were done with the case."

"Yes I have seen it, blunt force truma to the brain, dead on impact."

"Yes, that's what it says," was all John managed to say. 

"John, perhaps it's time to officially say goodbye?"

"I don't know if I could do that."

"Yes you can John, just go to his grave and say goodbye, then move on with your life. You wasted three years on this stupid investigation. It's time to move on and time to get your life back."

Saying Goodbye........

John left the Diogenes Club and headed off to the graveyard. It was a cold brisk Tuesday morning and the London fog swirled throughout the streets. John's hand tremor was noticeable as he rubbed his hands together. It had come and had been there ever since Sherlock's death. 

John slowly walked up to Sherlock's grave. A bench had been set there, per John's request so he wouldn't have to sit on the ground whilst he read the newspapers to Sherlock. John sat down on it and rubbed his hands together again. He sat there for a while, just staring at the tombstone. Finally after about thirty minutes John began to speak in almost a whisper.

"Well Sherlock, I guess this is it. This is truly it. It's time to say goodbye." John stood up and began to pace back and forth then sat down again. "Lestrade kept the case open as long as he could. I have your death certificate with me. Umm I've read it about a dozen times. The truth is Sherlock, I don't think it will ever sink in that you're dead, even through it's been three years. I still think that I'm going to walk up the stairs of 221B and you'll be seated there, violin on hand, rosining your bow. Nothing will have happened and we will have just gone on solving cases that the police can't solve," John gave a soft chuckle then added, "which is most of them. But I know that, that isn't ever going to happen. I remember just after you died and Ms. Hudson and I visited your grave. I still had hope then. Hope its such a funny word, its wonderful if you have it and terrible if you don't; and I have lost hope, Sherlock. I've lost the hope that you're still alive, and I've lost the hope that I'll ever find out what happened with you during your final month. There is just one question that never leaves my mind, where is Moriarty? I sometimes wonder if he was ever real, but then I dismiss it because I know you Sherlock, I saw you solve those cases. You didn't make those up, you couldn't have. I have to keep on track through. I have come here to say goodbye to a man with whom I owe so much, and also to apologize. I am sorry I wasn't able to solve this case, I'm sorry that your name has been smeared forever and I couldn't do anything about it. I am sorry Sherlock." John looked down at his trembling hand and then up again. "Goodbye old friend." He whispered softly; he then gave a military salute and walked away finally having said goodbye.