Loss, lust and love

Time doesn't stop for Sherlock Holmes

2 years later

I love books. I always have, I don't know why. I think maybe it's the way you can't deduce a character by the way they look, or spot what they've been doing from the dirt under their nails. You have to learn the characters through learning their thoughts. And when you fall in love with a character, you're falling in love with their mind, not their appearance; which is the way you should fall in love. And it was beautiful.

I loved it. I loved seeing into other's minds, and focusing on their lives rather than my own. I had stayed in my dad's apartment, and had guilted John into doing the same. Life ticked on, it didn't halt for Sherlock Holmes and Jim Moriarty, which I quickly came to realise.

I missed them. A day didn't pass in which my mind didn't wander to their crazy lives and how they made me feel, which in turn caused feelings of being torn apart from a wild bear. It hurt.

"Twice daily, take them with food and a drink is optional." The doctor's words flashed across my mind, tugging groans from deep within me as I turned to my side and stared with a hateful look at the small orange tube. 'Anti-depressants' printed across the front with boring block letters. I hated them. Depression had found me not a month after their death, and hasn't lost me since.

"Ashe! I made breakfast." John called from the kitchen with a bouncy tone to his voice.

Pat pat pat my bare feet patted across the kitchen tiles and froze my toes like icicles. "Going to work today?" He nagged. I groaned. He sighed. "You have to go in one of these days."

"I know, and I will. Im just not motivated to."

"You haven't taken your pills yet, have you."

I grunted like a child, remembering I was 21 and could not really get away with making animalistic noises anymore.

Mary's sun-bright face popped around the door a while later and stole John to take him to work. I liked Mary, thoughI couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something. She was good for John, she helped him to move past the death whereas I was still fixated on it. I needed to get out of the house.

~~~

"I need to go" his beetle eyes softened to a careful brown.

"Sherlock stuff again?" I stifled a sigh, hiding my hatred for his obsession with my dad.

"I should be fine. It will work out for us."

"Why can't I come with you?"

"You make me weak." He stepped forward, holding my side.

"Thanks." My glance fell to the floor, though his hand lifted my chin upwards to meet his stare.

"You're my only weakness. I can't have you there, I need to know you're out of harm's reach."

I smiled at this, a watery, teary smile. He always knew how to make things feel okay. "Moriarty.."

"Yes?"

"Please come back to me. In one piece, please."

"Always. And Seb will be watching over you."

And with that, he left. I stood in his kitchen, feeling torn as always at there was a possibility he wouldn't return.

~~~

I hated remembering times like these, flashbacks tore my heart so messily I could practically hear the rips. Seb stopped checking up on ,e around the same time I discovered I was depressed, though by that point I had grown accustomed to being abandoned.

It was happening again, Mrs Hudson wouldn't last forever and John would certainly leave to live with his girlfriend soon. I was happy for them, and he needed to move forward with his life however life was like a current, moving at a pace in which I couldn't keep up, and I was falling out only to be forgotten.

I had to get out of the house.

~~~

After an attempt at work I found myself heading towards the one place I could ignore all my problems and be a child. And yes, it was a nightclub. No one needed to know I was there.

Changing in the back of the taxi, I arrived at the familiar destination quickly and was in within no time hearing the the typical yet predictable track playing deafeningly loud. I laughed slightly at hearing Darude Sandstorm play for probably the seventh time in this club as I tipped my head back and allowed a shot down. I made a mental note to ignore the burning in the back of my throat.

Throwing my worries away I jumped in time to the sea of bodies, throwing my arms up and feeling a stranger press themselves against my back and touch my leg. My animalistic reflexes kicked in and I practically elbowed the person in the stomach. Though I soon realised I wasn't in any danger and this was simply a drunk and likely Horney male grinding on me.

I turned and looked him in the eye, expecting the sloppy, drunken kiss which followed. I kissed back as rough as I could before he took my thin hand in his own and started to tug me towards the exit. Seeing no reason to disagree, I obliged and followed the cute guy outside the doors and released an unrecognisable noise as he pushed me into a wall and pressed himself against me with hot breaths and desperate, fiery kisses.

He planted them all over my mouth, tugging at my lip with his teeth and rubbing his tongue against mine. A bear paw began to sneak under my shirt and I didn't mind much, nor did I mind when he fumbled with my bra strap and began groping at my breasts. I did mind when one of his bear paws tried to slip under my pant line. "No." I slurred, though he pretended he hadn't heard and continued to wriggle his hand down. I pushed him away, but he bounced back and grinned, acting as though I was too drunk to know what I was saying. "Get off." I spoke again as he reached out to touch me, though the male advanced on me and tried to press himself against me.

My hands raised defensively and I prepared to scream, but I was saved. A stronger male shoved the sex-ridden animal to the side and kicked him until he was unconscious. "She told you no!" He yelled, his voice a forceful punch as he continued to kick before turning to me. Straightening the suit jacket which he wore, the dark brown eyes met mine with a blank expression.

I gasped.

My heart stopped.

He stared back, as blank as a sheet of paper.

My stomach flipped.

"Jim?!"

"I have a car. Let's go."

I was stunned. He was alive. How could he possibly be alive? I realised after some time that I was frozen in shock for the second time in my life. Once when my love left, and another when he returned.

"You were dead!"

"And now I'm back. Hurry up and let's go."

My anger, my hurt, my betrayal. It all coursed angrily through my veins, pumping its way to the surface where my fists were ready. I stepped forward, taking a swing and hearing a loud snap as my small fist connected with the criminal's nose. It wasn't hard enough to break it, but the splatter of Crimson blood which painted the wall like a child's art session proved I had caused some injury.

"Shit." He hissed under his breath, taking a moment before standing once more, brandishing a small hand gun which he pointed at my head.

"Oh, of course." My voice portrayed my lack of surprise. This wasn't new for him.

"For fucks sake." He spat, one hand clutching his bloody face and the other holding a gun to my head. His hands steady as ever.

"Right, fine. Where am I walking to?" I sighed. God, I thought, he was such a child! I could not remember a time where Moriarty hadn't gone to extremes in order to get his way. I watched as he nodded his head towards a slick black limo purring gracefully at the side of the road and, sighing a few more times, walked straight for the car with the gun pressed against my head.

Child.