It had been a month... one excruciating month since his death. And it tormented her everyday. Every since she saw him... Fall to his death... She couldn't get it out of her head. How he had said goodbye, how he had made her watch him die. It was something she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy. Because she felt it was... All. Her. Fault. Every night and day all she would see is his black curly hair and his wool coat flying down to the cold hard pavement of a London sidewalk. And she didn't know how to coap. She had dealt with death but not like this... Not after watching her best friend, the man she loved... Throw himself off of a building. She had stumbled over like a bumbling idiot to check his pulse, and she couldn't feel it... She couldn't even say goodbye...

It had been a week, no one had heard from her. She was sitting in the flat, leaning on the doorway to the kitchen with one foot on the doorway and the other keeping her elevated. Her arms were limp, her right hand holding a glass of bourbon to keep the thoughts of him dying away, but it never helped. It just made her feel worse. But she still kept drinking, trying to ease the pain in her chest. She stared at the room around her in 221B, feeling suffocated. She looked over to the door, hoping to see him pop through the door with that big stupid grin on his face. But he never did... Because he was dead. The thought alone made her throw the glass into the fireplace without a second hesitation. She stared at the glass before she just... Cracked...

She threw everything in sight, the urge to break something, the urge to be mad made her partially insane. She didn't want this... She was so angry... She was angry at him. He gave up on her, on them. He didn't fight Moriarty, he just fell to his death and for it... All of the others who loved him... Her especially suffered for it. She stepped over the glass on her barefeet, relishing in the pain that it brought her. Anything to take her mind off of him just for one second... One measly second. Anything was better than the emotional pain she was feeling. She fell to her knee's screaming, holding her head and covering her ears. Her fingers dug into her hair as she screamed and sobbed until she went unconscious... The last thing she remembered was feeling a warm pair of arms wrap around her and take her away from 221B Baker St. And she prayed to God that he would keep her away from that place...

As she awoke, she noticed a few things... A warm blanket was covering her as the fireplace beside her crackled under the heat of the fire burning in it. A soft pillow under her head and a comfortable couch to lay on for her. Her feet had been expertly bandaged and she wasn't in the flat she was in this morning. She looked around her seeing a rather formal area and that she was in the same clothes when she woke up this morning since she had stayed in them all day.

"You are perfectly safe my dear from anyone trying to harm you, except yourself it seems..." Mycroft said from behind her. Avery looked around to see him standing there with his umbrella in hand leaning on it a bit.

"My-Mycroft? What am I doing here?" She asked, pulling the blanket around her feeling the chill of London hitting her full on.

"You are here because I am severely concerned with your behavior. Reeking havoc in my brothers old apartment isn't very nice." He said looking over her, she had lost weight... In the month that his little brothers death had passed she hadn't come out of 221B Baker Street. He had several informative keeping up on her and he was worried.

"It isn't nice to watch your best friend fall to his death either Mycroft!" She snapped, feeling lightheaded. She had lost at least 45 pounds since his death, Mycroft observed as he walked over, noticing tears forming in her eyes.

"I know it wasn't my dear, but he wouldn't want to see someone like yourself, so strong and lovely tearing herself up over a man like him." He said, sat down beside her.

Avery felt tears slipping down her cheeks. "I-I don't know... I don't know what to do anymore. Without him it feels like everything is just... Slipping. Mycroft... Your brother was the best thing that could have happened and now he's just... He's just..." She tried to stutter out but Mycroft pulling her into a gentle embrace and sighed into her blonde hair.

"I promised my brother something before he died my dear and that was to look after you. I want you to stay with me. Out of that stingy apartment and heal. You need to heal Avery more than you realize." He said, stroking her hair back.

"I miss him Mycroft... I can't... I can't live without him..." She said tearfully. He simply hugged her again, sighing as he knew that his brother was going to pay for hurting Avery like this.

"I know my dear, I miss him as well." He whispered, kissing her temple sweetly. And so Avery stayed with Mycroft, he looked over her when he was there and had other trusted people looking after her when she was away. She didn't have to worry about a thing and over time she began to smile and laugh... But she was never the same... Never the same without him.

And he... Was Sherlock Holmes.

And She... Was Avery Watson...

Lemme know what you guys think, I might just turn this into a whole story ^.^ Review and favorite pls.

-LLT