This Is What I Left Behind

I'll try harder, this time...

Scarlet's POV

Why is breathing such a difficult task when you cry? It becomes a task to breath in, when your tears clog up your throat, causing that short intake of breath that gives you no real oxygen. I try to force my body to grow up,to pull itself together. But I can't.

Sherlock's face is cut into my mind, Joker scarred into my soul. He hates me. I knew it before, but know its staring me right in the face. I thought I could waltz up here and expect everything to go back to normal, like some Disney channel film preaching love and friendship.

I have to go.

I hurry out of the room, grabbing my hoodie, pushing all my thoughts to the side as my body goes into auto-pilot. Got to get out, got to. I can't feel, re build walls, no more emotion, I can't. I hate him for a spilt second, my whole body overwhelmed as I curse his name, and everything he stands for. The image of my head on his lap, my name on his lips as we whisper sweet nothings into the night as if we understood what loving a person means, like forever was something we could comprehend.

Maybe he calls for me or maybe he doesn't I don't care. I'mat the door and all I want to do is leave, and forget. If I even can.

Someone grabs my hand, I turn already trying to pull away, only to look straight into the eyes of John Watson. I pull again but he doesn't let go, he has the grip of an army officer, probably ex military.

"Stay." I pull again, he sounds exasperated. "If not for him for you. He needs to remember who you were to him."

He finally lets go, I stand straighter and fix my sleeve then look him straight in the eye.

"Look, I don't know who you think I am, but its not that deep. We were friends, now we're not. I was stupid to think that would change. But I was a no one, a insignificant dot on Sherlock's time line. So I'm going to leave before I embarrass myself further. Goodbye John Watson." I walk towards the door in a finishing motion, more to persuade myself this is happening than to scare John.

"So why has he been playing love songs since you got here." I stop. Then turn, flick him the bird and leave. If under threat retaliate with uncalled for rudeness. It throws then off.

I walk around London for about 2 minutes before that sinking feeling begins to set in. I left all my stuff. And i'm overreacting. And John asked me to stay. And, and. I return to 221b Baker Street with an awkward stance. Standing at the top of the stairs, I shift my feet from side to side, not really knowing what to say. Sherlock gives me a little nod and I enter, perching worriedly on the couch.

"Stay." His voice is steady, and runs into my ears like honey, ready to rot my brains good intentions. "I couldn't protect you when you needed me. I'm never going to let myself be distracted by my own selfish blaming. You need me now, you need Mycroft and you need Charlie. So we aren't going to be the family that lets you slip through our finger twice. So stay."

I nod, knowing my voice won't be as steady if I try to talk. He smiles, and I feel 16 again.

Yo yo yo, its your girl...who hopes you can forgive her for the lack of creativity and updates. At least Scarlet and Sherlock are happy am I right? *Evil laugh*

Its Sherlock in 10 minutes so go watch that rather than reading this crap. Lov ya! xxxx