His eyes caught my wide eyes and he stopped mid sentence. It only took John a second to follow his shocked gaze and they both saw me. Sherlock pushed himself out of the table, standing but it seemed as though he couldn't move.
Or maybe it was I who couldn't move.
Or maybe time had froze for that instant to let my mind catch up and my heart restart because honestly, since I saw him, my heart had stopped. Air was something unfamiliar. Tears greeted me like an old friend, smoothing my face.
Now Sherlock had started towards me and with it registering in my mind that he in fact was coming towards me, I took off.
Down the crowded London street I flew. Hitting bodies and tripping over cracks and gaps in the pavement. Faster, I insisted, You must go faster. But to be completely honest, I wasn't even sure if he had followed me.
My heart was loud, thumping heavily against my frail chest.
My eyes blurred, disabling my vision although this was nothing new.
My limbs ached because they hadn't taken this exercise in a very long time.
My ears blocked out the complaints and rude comments from every person I collided with.
My mind screamed, I was confused and I didn't do well against so many questions. Normally, I knew everything.
"Stop it!" I finally heard and it in fact was Sherlock. He had followed me. "Stop running Enna!"
I would not. I could not.
My next move was an alley way to my left that would hopefully take me somewhere...anywhere but here.
My hopes were let down for I found myself trapped. Although I could see it measured 50 by 20 feet, it was far to small for the both of us.
We both panted and by this time, the tears had dried. Continuously, he walked closer.
"Do not come any closer." I demanded but he payed no mind. "Stop, right there." I say again. I did not scare him as much as I should have, or as much as I wish I did. Finally, I found myself pointing a gun at his chest. "Stop you bloody idiot!" But even that had no effect. He came as close as he could get, his chest pressed against the top of my hand gun which shook from my unsteadiness. Finally, my arms dropped in defeat, or at least that's what I hoped it looked like. He took one more step and I swung my hand, the gun connected with his face and I tried my escape.
This had no effect.
He took hold of my wrist as I passed him and would not let go.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed bloody murder. "Get your filthy hands off me!" I fought and fought but it was no use. I was weaker then I used to be.
"If you promise not to run." He said finally. When I stopped fighting, he released his grip and I jerked my arm away. "To be completely honest, I hoped for a different reaction." My anger was at steady rise from this point forward. I clenched my teeth and marched towards him, pounding my fists against his chest.
"You're dead! You left because you were dead!" I scream at him pointlessly. "You jumped off a building and when I came home you were gone!" My hands did not stop hitting his rock hard chest until he caught them both and he could feel my tremors. This was when my knee's gave out and I was on the ground. Sherlock dropped as well, holding my hands in his, gently.
"I'm here now." His gentle voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket and spoke only to my soul. I looked into his piercing blue eyes and saw truth and the hard faced man I once knew looked like a broken porcelain doll that had been pieced back together. There was now a visible crack that showed weakness but also showed empathy.
I was angry, but I did not want to let this go.
Not ever again.
"Tea?" John asks me. I nod once.
"Please." I say, cuddling into the blanket he had given me when I arrived earlier. "How long did you know?" I ask as he sits across from me.
"Five minutes, if that." John tells me. "I was waiting and he sat down in front of me."
"Did you punch him?" I ask, hoping for a yes because I was frankly still enraged. He laughs slightly but I was dead serious.
"I didn't get the chance but I'm sure you got one in for me." He responds.
"I got 4 in for you." I say and he laughs again. I smile lightly before looking out the window. "Why did he do that?" I ask quietly.
"We'll get answers." He tells me. I nod and sniffle, my nose was quite stuffed up, my eyes watering and throat sore. I suspected I was catching a cold. I felt an urge of nicotine come on like it had been frequently in the last few weeks and I stand.
"I need to get some air for a moment. I'll be back." I say to John. He nods and I walk to the door, hauling on my jacket and then exiting the flat.
I stood in the cold for a moment, looking up and down the street before pulling out a cigarette and putting it between my lips, lighting it up.
I took a nice long drag and I suddenly felt...relaxed. I breathed out the smoke and took another drag.
"Stressed?" I nearly choke and start coughing out the smoke as Sherlock walks by. He watches me closely, holding the brown bag of groceries in his hands. I wipe my mouth find myself staring at him mystified.
I couldn't believe he was actually here still. I threw the cigarette butt down and stomped on it, putting it out. His eyes followed and he stared at it for a moment.
"I told you." he says looking up from the ground, a smirk spreads onto his lips. I cough again, this time into my sleeve and return a small smile. He carries on, walking past me and into the flat. I looked around for a moment until deciding to follow him.
"Thank you for supper," I say, realizing it was going for 8:00. "but I should go."
"So soon?" John wonders. I nod sadly, standing. Sherlock and John both stand as well and I make my way towards the door, taking my coat and hauling it on. "Would you like a cab fare?" He wonders. I shake my head.
"I'll be OK, thanks." I tell him. He nods and I turn to Sherlock. He clears his throat uncomfortably and turns his head slightly in John's direction.
"Give us a second?" He asks quietly. John nods in understanding, walking off and down the corridor. We finally hear a door shut when Sherlock looks directly down at me. "I uh," He looks stuck. I gave my normal patience before he looks up at me and smiles. "I'm happy to see you again."
It was short and simple and I guess I couldn't expect much more. I nod once.
"I'm happy you're not in fact dead." I tell him. He smiles lightly and that was my cue.
I turn, taking the door handle and pulling it open, making my escape to the closest bar to drown my pain and thoughts.
