Page 278 - SHERLOCK transcripts

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ELLA’S OFFICE. As the rain continues to pour down, John gazes blankly at his therapist.
ELLA: There’s stuff that you wanted to say ...
(John opens his mouth briefly but then closes it.)
ELLA: ... but didn’t say it.
JOHN (his voice breaking): Yeah.
ELLA: Say it now.
JOHN (tearfully): No. (He shakes his head.) Sorry. I can’t.

TAXI. John and Mrs Hudson are sitting in the back of a cab as it drives into a graveyard. Mrs H
is holding a bunch of flowers. Not long afterwards, they stand beside each other in front of a
black marble headstone. The flowers are now resting at the base of the headstone.
MRS HUDSON: There’s all the stuff, all the science equipment. I left it all in boxes. I don’t know
what needs doing. I thought I’d take it to a school.
(She looks at John.)
MRS HUDSON: Would you ...?
JOHN: I can’t go back to the flat again – not at the moment.
(She takes his arm sympathetically.)
JOHN: I’m angry.
(He takes a deep breath through his nose, trying not to break down. She gently pats his arm.)
MRS HUDSON: It’s okay, John. There’s nothing unusual in that. That’s the way he made
everyone feel.
(She gazes at the smooth black marble which simply bears the words SHERLOCK HOLMES.)
MRS HUDSON: All the marks on my table; and the noise – firing guns at half past one in the
morning!
JOHN: Yeah.
MRS HUDSON: Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine – keeping bodies where there’s food!
JOHN: Yes.
(He closes his eyes as she continues, her own voice breaking.)
MRS HUDSON: And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings-on!
(John turns to her.)
JOHN: Yeah, listen: I-I’m not actually that angry, okay?
MRS HUDSON: Okay.
(She turns away, pulling her arm free of his.)
MRS HUDSON: I’ll leave you alone to, erm ... (her voice breaks again) ... you know.
(Crying, she walks away, fishing out a tissue to blow her nose. John looks down at the grave,
drawing in a deep breath. He looks back over his shoulder to see that Mrs Hudson is now out of
earshot, then turns back to the grave again.)
JOHN (thoughtfully): Um ... mmm. (He pulls himself together a little.) You ... you told me once
that you weren’t a hero. Umm ... there were times I didn’t even think you were human, but let
me tell you this: you were the best man, and the most human ... human being that I’ve ever
known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, and so ... There.
(He blows out a breath, whimpering slightly. Looking over his shoulder again, he walks over to
the headstone and puts his fingertips onto the top of it.)
JOHN: I was so alone, and I owe you so much.
(He takes a tearful breath.)
JOHN: Okay.
(He turns and starts to walk away but only reaches the foot of the grave before he turns back
again.)
JOHN: No, please, there’s just one more thing, mate, one more thing: one more miracle,
Sherlock, for me. Don’t ... be ... (his voice breaks and fills with tears) ... dead. Would you do
...? Just for me, just stop it. (He gestures down at the grave.) Stop this.
(He sighs and lowers his head and stands there, broken. Reflected in the smooth marble of the
headstone, his figure appears to have the name SHERLOCK carved directly across his chest. He
lowers his head further, covers his eyes with one hand and weeps. Finally he wipes his eyes,
sniffs deeply and raises his head, coming to attention in front of his best friend. Nodding in
salute to him and giving himself permission to dismiss, he turns smartly on one heel and then
walks away.)

Transcripts by Ariane DeVere (arianedevere@livejournal.com)