Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize. Also, I strongly suggest that if you haven't read Not an Easy Task, please do so. These one shots (Series? I don't know) will make more sense to you.

There were a couple of incidents where Sherlock pushed me over the limit to where I seriously wanted to kill him. How I manage to contain myself throughout the years is nothing short of a miracle and has always astonished me to the point of endless awe. If that makes any sense to you. However, nothing can compare to what I felt after finding out that he faked his own death. Even now, after understanding his reasons as to why he did not inform both John and I about the ordeal I still can feel my whole body quiver from anger and pain. I guess I should start from the beginning where my state of mind wasn't all that…healthy. I can only remember specific moments during those two years of Sherlock's death. I think it was my brain's way of protecting me from just breaking down into a more pitiful human being.

I don't remember Sherlock's funeral. I don't remember who exactly attended it besides John and Mrs. Hudson. All I remember was that I was on my knees and staring at Sherlock's name on the tombstone. I remember feeling empty and the tears just didn't want to stop falling. I haven't spoken since John informed me about his leap from the hospital roof. My well controlled asthma came back in full force after confirming his body at the morgue to the point that I needed to be rushed into the ER to get some oxygen in me. I was even given an inhaler by my general doctor just to make sure it wouldn't happened again. I remember not wanting to the cemetery even after he was buried. John stood beside me, not speaking a word. We stayed there for hours until the sun was beginning to set. "It's time to go, Lara…" John whispered as another cold breezed hit our backs. I ran my hand over the large 'S' almost as if checking if this was some sort of horrible nightmare for the hundredth time. "I can't leave him, John…" my voice was hoarse from not using it for the past three days. "He…he would never forgive me if he knew that you got sick from being out here and that I didn't do anything to stop you," he claimed as he kneeled next to me to place a comforting hand on my shoulder. John was trying to be strong for me because he knew that if he wasn't, no good would come of it for either of us. "He's dead. You don't need his forgiveness." "I know. Don't say it so bluntly." A few moments passed between us as we both kept staring at that big block of rock. It felt like the end of an era. I didn't have a clue what I was supposed to do without Sherlock in my life. "John…"

"Yes, Lara?"

"Can we stay here for another five minutes, please?"

"Alright."

Like I stated before, I don't remember much during those days. I would mostly just stay at Baker Street and spend day and night on his chair. After a while, the tears ran out and I was just like the same empty shell I was back when I had that…traumatic experience in my college years. The difference here is that I didn't have Sherlock around to help me keep me human as much as that sound odd to you. I didn't know how to function. John would try to keep himself busy so as not to be in the flat as much as possible. It was his way of coping and his way of giving me time to grieve as well. Sherlock's scent still clung to his chair and I would bury my face deep into the arm rest just to keep that memory alive. I didn't want to forget anything about him. I didn't want to think about anything but him. Sherlock and I were finally able to consider each other as a couple only to have him commit suicide a two weeks later. Do you know how much that hurts? After years of swallowing my feelings towards that arrogant arsehole, I was finally allowed to be held by him, to hold his hand in secrecy, to be able to kiss him and not to mention that night where we…uh…never mind. That story is for another time.

After about a month or so, I knew that it was time to get up and try to get my life together. My employers were understanding and offered to give me time off to gather myself but I knew that their generosity would only last for so long. So, I forced myself to get back to work and start to spend time in my own flat once more. It was a hard decision for me to make. I wanted nothing more than to bury my head into that chair of his or wrap myself in his robe just to feel Sherlock near me (as stupid as it sounds). But even I knew, that Sherlock would scoff and bitch about how much of a weakling I have become and that I should just go on and live my life. So I did just that. I started to live my life without my Sherlock Holmes.

It wasn't easy at first but I somehow managed to keep moving forward. After a year, I didn't set a foot inside Sherlock's flat with the exception of visiting Mrs. Hudson for our weekly cup of tea. John even moved out to move in with his new girlfriend Mary. She was just perfect for him in every way and I always enjoyed her company. It felt like she was my long lost sister by how we both ganged up on John and tease him to no end. I already knew that they both would get married. Truth be told, I did felt envious towards those two. Having that connection with another person who just plains gets you was something that I missed about spending time in the presence of the highly functional sociopath. I was never aware of how much of a lonely person I was until I spend my weekends having dinner with those two. When I actually want company but not feeling up to having that state of mind on a particular day, I would visit Mycroft. Granted, we usually won't converse and I would just sit on one of his luxurious couches. I would always draw him writing and reading numerous documents that contained God knows what by using the drawing pad that he had placed on the table near the couch and with a set of charcoals. Whenever I got bored or I ran out of paper to draw on, I would help myself to his collection of books in his office library and enjoy a cup of tea with a hidden gem of a book. Most are about politics but there were some that involve art history and philosophy that I know he purchased just for my benefit since Mycroft was not interested in those types of subjects. There would be times where Mycroft and I would have lunch or dinner together. I guess you can say my first date I had since the passing of Sherlock was with Mycroft, which is extremely weird now that I mention it. You have to trust me when I say that there was nothing romantic about the friendship between Mycroft and me. I couldn't see myself falling for another Holmes especially when I truly felt like Sherlock was incomparable in the sense of warmth and comfort.

Any who, not only did I change my routine on the aspects of not having a breakdown on a daily basis, but I also came to terms into going on a few dates. It's weird for me to say that Sherlock was the main reason as to why I never actually took part in the whole dating scene. But that goes to show you how much I really just wanted to be with him. Or how incredibly pathetic and sad I truly was. It's your call on that matter. There were a couple of people that John introduce me because they would get their annual check-ups with him and it was plain as day that John had absolutely no idea on what type of men I was attracted to (to be frank, I had no idea as well).

It was around that time when I met Joseph, a dashing Irish man that worked at a coffee shop that had opened near the museum. I remember he was so tall, about 195 cm (6 feet and 4 inches) and had this big smile that seemed to won me over almost instantaneously. His blue eyes complemented his reddish brown hair quite nicely and not to mention, he had a great arse. Yes, I did check out his rear whenever he would make my coffee. Who wouldn't? The man was obviously in very good shape. Our conversations were just short nothings that quickly became where he would join me at my table in the corner during his and my lunch break. I soon found myself looking forward to our chats and I was surprised to find myself become giddy when he asked me for my phone number. We would talk daily and just nonstop. It was such a weird feeling to have someone asking you questions about your life and really seem interested in what you had to say. With Sherlock, with just one glance he would know exactly what was going through my head and already deem it unworthy information for his mind palace. So having a person from the opposite sex take an immediate interest in me was very enjoyable. Our dates were filled with laughter and just wonderful memories. He graduated from an art institute in the United States and moved over to London to open up a café shop just like his grandfather did back in Ireland. Joseph inherited the café after his father's passing the year before, but he decided to leave it to his mother and two brothers to open up his own. He always wanted to start in London and if he claimed that if he helped run his family by staying with the café in Ireland, he wouldn't be able to blossom into the person he wanted to be. Just the passion in his voice on how he finally manage to start living his dream was just so appealing to me that I found myself falling for him helplessly. Yet, as wonderful as he was, I still had moments where I would compare him to Sherlock. Both have enticing eyes but when I was with Sherlock, I would constantly have to remind myself to not stare at him for too long. I didn't have to be cautious around Joseph mainly because he was just the opposite of Sherlock. It wasn't long before we were officially an item and were constantly invited on double dates with John and Mary. Mary took an immediate liking to Joseph but John had a bit of a hard time accepting him.

"This is just weird for me Lara. I always pictured you with Sherlock. I just need time to adjust to the new picture in my head." John commented as he took a bite out of the sandwich I made him. He would sometimes visit me in my small flat to chat sometimes whenever Mary would be off doing some shopping. I poured myself a cup of tea and sat in front of him on my small kitchen table. "I know. It was…hard for me at first. But I think it was the fact that Joseph is so different than Sherlock that made it possible to have him around. He has been…very understanding after knowing about Sherlock's and my…relationship." I tried to explain as I took a sip, taking care as to not burn myself. "I can see that. I can tell that the guy really likes you." John stated with his mouth full. I remember smiling and just placed the cup on my bottom lip. "He asked me to marry him last night," That evening could have killed John Watson by choking on a piece of ham and cheese sandwich if I didn't perform the Heimlich maneuver. After John had calmed down and me using my inhaler from the sheer panic, I started to explain how Joseph came over with Chinese takeout and a random movie that I don't remember. He proposed in the most stupid way that it was almost adorable. Joseph had put the engagement ring inside a marble filled take out box where it would be at the top without giving away the surprise. When I opened it, I was surprised to find not the ring but how I kept thinking that there was no food. This man that I have started to date for a little over than nine months decided that he wants me to be part of his life in a big way and I was just depressed at the thought of not having food that evening. I told this to John, but instead of laughing like I thought he would, John just kept staring at me like he couldn't believe what came out of my mouth. "Let me get this straight. Joseph, the guy who you meet a few months ago asked you to be his wife and you were just worried about not stuffing your face with orange chicken?" "Technically, I've known him for almost a year and we have been dating for nine months so it's hardly considered just 'a few months'"

"You know what I mean, Lara. What did you tell him? You must have told him that it was too soon and that you aren't ready-" "I said yes." You know, for a little man, John sure can yell. "Why in the bloody hell would you say yes?!" He yelled before quickly takes a deep breath to calm himself down. I remember waiting until he gathered his composer before grabbing both of his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. "I'm almost thirty years old, John, and yet I feel so much older. I spend most of my glory days with Sherlock to which I hold no regrets in doing so. I've been to dates but all they never lasted more than a week because I could only see myself next to that arsehole. Since I was a teenager, I have always saw myself married and having kids and I feel like this is my one shot for that. For years, I have hoped that the man that would give me that life would be Sherlock, but now he's gone. What now? He left me John. Left me. After confessing to me that he can't function without my presence and he just left. How in the hell am I supposed to be able to move on like that without having it effect my self-esteem? Now, Joseph is a wonderful man and I know without a doubt that he cares for me and he has been patient with me and I have absolute no doubt that he would be an excellent father" I took a shaky breath to calm down all of the incoherent words that were whirling around inside my head. Bless John; all he did was remove one of his hands from under my own to cover both of my hands. "I understand. Regardless of your decision, as long as you are happy then I couldn't be more ecstatic." We just smiled at each other like a bunch of idiots and that was when he started to ask me about when exactly were Joseph and I were planning to get married. I told John that it wasn't anytime soon since I wanted to stay engaged for at least a year just so I can get use to the idea of marriage. Even though it is not quite the same. I would stay in my flat, which Joseph did not complain since his small flat didn't have enough space for two. "So I want you to ask Mary to marry you already so I can steal ideas." I exclaimed as I stole a bite from his sandwich after grabbing it from his hand. He just gave me his world famous bashful grin as he reached into his pocket to show me the ring he had picked out. "Oh John! It's absolutely beautiful! How can she say no to that?"

"I was actually planning to ask her tomorrow night. I made reservations, picked out a tux and bought extra underwear so when I shit myself, I will be prepared." He took his sandwich back to finish off the last piece before taking a sip of my tea. "Oh shut it Watson, you and I both know that Mary can't keep her hands off of you. The countless hickeys on your neck are proof of that." He just flicked my forehead and started to laugh in embarrassment. We talked for several hours and I even got to show him my engagement ring that I had tucked in one of my dresser drawers. It fitted loosely on my finger and I was planning to get it sized some time that week. I had to admit, it was a beautiful squared shaped diamond. I seemed a bit extravagant for my taste but that didn't lower the fact that I found it beautiful. "You should visit Mrs. Hudson before you go to dinner, John. She misses you like crazy and I really don't like to make up excuses as to why you have abandoned her." He signed as he got up to grab his coat since it was getting late and Mary was sure to be at their flat. "I will. I was already planning on visiting her tomorrow afternoon to tell her about the engagement. You take it easy, Lara. Call if you need anything." He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead as I got up to walk him out the door.

It felt weird to think of myself engaged to another man besides Sherlock. As I look back, it was plain to see that I just wanted to forget how my self-identity was killed along with Sherlock and I was adopting this identity that Joseph wanted. Not that it was such a bad thing to adopt the identity of being Joseph's fiancé. It was just weird and an awkward thought. The next day after coming home from the museum and dropping off my engagement ring to get it sized (I thought the sooner I can wear the ring, the faster I can get use to the idea), I decided to go back to my flat to change into a fresher pair of clothes. All the dust that the museum collects always activated Mrs. Hudson's allergies and so I would always change into different clothes to benefit her. It was really no big deal. It was just a regular day for me but fate decided to have a field day and say "fuck it" apparently.

When I would visit Mrs. Hudson back then, she would always make her famous oatmeal cookies that were simply my favorite and we would just gossip for hours. She was just like a second mum to me and would always surprise me with her stories back when she was younger. You wouldn't think that sweet Mrs. Hudson was such a…devious little thing. I remember telling her about my engagement and she couldn't be happier for me and was just rambling off about her own wedding. She was very fond of Joseph but that didn't stop her from fanaticizing about a wedding were Sherlock would be the groom. After chatting, we would usually watch the telly together that usually ended up with me falling asleep on her couch for about half an hour before deciding to go home. This evening was particularly different. During one of her many shows I excused myself to go to her bathroom. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and just remembered how much those two years have changed me. My freckles that were across my nose and cheeks seem to have multiply in numbers. My eyes have become a darker shade of amber and my hair surpassed my chest. Sherlock would use to pull on a strand of hair when I was being annoying to him, which was about eighty percent of the time. Just as I was taking in all of the details on how even my body became more of a mature woman, I heard Mrs. Hudson release a blood shrilling scream. My heart just stopped as I quickly got out of the bathroom to find Mrs. Hudson absent from her living room. I rushed out of her flat only to have another seconds of my heart stop beating. There in front of me was Mrs. Hudson with her arms around Sherlock, expressing how happy she was to see him alive. Green eyes were upon me as both he and I ignored Mrs. Hudson or the noise that the telly was making. He didn't say anything and I just couldn't breathe. I began to gasp and wheeze from the lack of oxygen my lungs weren't getting. I grasped the door framed as both Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock rushed towards me with worried faces. "Breath honey breath!" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson as she grabbed my face but my eyes were still placed on Sherlock, unable to break free. He looked at me with those eyes, those deducing eyes. "In…ah...haler…inhaler!" I wheezed out as I was starting to panic. At this point, tears were rolling down my cheeks, whether if it was because Sherlock was alive or the fact that I was getting really scared at the fact that I couldn't breathe is something that I don't even know to this day. Sherlock rushed inside Mrs. Hudson's flat as she continued to calm me down. It wasn't long before Sherlock reappeared and pushed her away to place inhaler in my gasping mouth and pumped it about two times. I took deep shaky breaths as relief washed over me. That didn't stop the tears from flowing and Mrs. Hudson helped me get up on my feet, eyes still locked on those beautiful green orbs of his. I didn't hug him. I didn't utter his name. All I did was the most reasonable thing I could have done during in that situation.

I punched him in the face.

Thank you for taking the time to read this! I hope these miniseries would be enjoyable to all of you. Just so you know, I'm not going to keep this in first person point of view. So if that's an issue with you, please let me know. Sherlock will make more of an appearance next time. You all are amazing. Also, if any of you are interested in making a cover for this story of mine or even for Not an Easy Task, please just message me! I would love to upload it!