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After my sobbing session, I got changed, but still stayed in the bedroom when I was done.

I wonder what time of the day it is...

I didn't want to go near Tom.

I didn't want him to touch me like he did last time.

Why was he like this?

I quickly searched the room for a telephone, because I left mine back at the flat, but there was no phone in the bedroom, just a laptop.

I quickly opened it up, thank goodness it wasn't password protected.

I stared at the home screen, trying to think of who I should contact, and how.

Then it hit me.

The Science of Deduction.

Sherlock's website...

I quickly went on his website and commented:

You don't have to love me, but please help me.

         -Y/N

I saw no reason to put an address, he can deduce where I am, I know he can.

That is...only if he decides to come.

Please come...

I shut the computer off, after deleting the history, and set it back in place.

Just then, Tom knocked on the door:

"Darling, have you got your clothes on?" He asked, walking in.

I looked at him and nodded.

"I've got the day off. We can have fun." He smiled, coming closer.

I quickly shook my head and backed away.

He grabbed hold of both my wrists and leaned into my face, staring at me.

I couldn't speak. The painkillers have made my throat extremely sore, and it hurts when I speak. I need a glass of water...but all he's given me is vodka.

A tear fell out of my eye. I hate being weak. I hate it. It's a terrifying feeling when someone does things to you against your will, and you don't have the physical ability to stop them. It's even worse when you care about that person, and they've helped you so many times, but then they go and do this...

You end up asking yourself...why? Why is this kind...sweet, generous, caring person...doing these things to me...?

"Why are you doing this, Tom?" I managed to sqeak out.

"Because I love you, darling..." He said, before attempting to kiss me.

I quickly turned my head to the side, dodging his kiss.

Anger and fury was present in his eyes, as he squeezed the grip he had on my wrists tightly, making me whimper in pain.

"Please, Tom...please stop...this isn't you..." I whimpered.

"Y/N?" I heard Sherlock's voice from far away.

Why is his voice in my head now of all times...?

"Y/N!" I heard it again, more clearer this time.

Tom didn't seem, to care. He began to attempt to grope me.

Sherlock burst through the door.

He actually came for me...

He pulled Tom away from me and gave him a good fist in the face that knocked him out, before coming to me.

I sat up slowly and cried into my hands, as he sat next to me.

He sat on the bed, and attempted to place a hand on my back, but I quickly dodged it.

"It's okay, Y/N...it's me." He said, trying again.

I dodged his comfort again.

He was much easier to dodge than Tom. Sherlock was more hesitant.

This time he tried to attack hug me, and I resisted with punches and pushes, but he managed to wrap his arms around me tightly.

I gave up and cried into his shoulder loudly.

"Sherlock he..." I struggled to get my words out.

"Shhh...I know, I know...it's okay now...everythings okay." He hushed me, kissing my forehead, and rubbing my back. It was soothing I must admit.

I wanted to pull away from him...pull away and slap him for what he's put me through...

but maybe later...he was far too comfy right now...

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