A/N: So I've been in a procrastinating mood lately, which isn't too great for my schoolwork but which is great for you guys! So I hope you guys appreciate the fact that I'm sacrificing my chances of success in this cut-throat world of Academic America for your reading pleasure!
Laura's mouth stretched in a wide yawn as she slowly emerged from the first peaceful night's sleep she'd had in weeks. She could feel John's arms wrapped around her middle, and she allowed herself a small smile as she opened her eyes to take in his relaxed expression. He looked entirely at ease as he gently snored beside her, and she trailed her fingers along the faint dust of blonde stubble on his jaw before she placed a quiet kiss on his nose.
After another minute of faint kisses and soft caresses, Laura turned her head to check the time on John's alarm clock. Mrs. Hudson would have already laid out tea and toast by now, so Laura carefully untangled herself from John before heading downstairs. John hadn't been sleeping too well either recently, so Laura saw no need to wake him up on a day when he didn't have a shift until later that afternoon.
She padded through the living room towards the kitchen, wrapping her arms around her middle with a shiver as she halted just before the wide doorway. All she needed to do was cross over the threshold and enter the area she'd spent countless hours in for over a month. Yet she couldn't seem to force her feet to move any closer towards that hateful room, promises of perfectly crafted toast with jam or not.
"Morning."
Laura nearly jumped out of her skin as a rich, baritone voice sounded from her left, and she hesitantly turned her head to see Sherlock sprawled out on the couch against the wall. His dark blue dressing robe swirled around his bare ankles as he gracefully rose to his feet, and while Laura was glad for the slight bagginess of his t-shirt, she couldn't help the reddening of her cheeks at the sight of his form-fitting underwear. Of course, he could have merely decided to roam about without clothes as he had that first morning she'd spent at 221B that had led to a John strongly admonishing his flatmate.
Laura did her best to forcefully push away thoughts of naked Sherlock, but thinking of him in his current state wasn't much better as he continued to approach. Laura turned away from him, her body going rigid when he halted just behind her. If only she could just run into the kitchen, sprint to the other side of the room and put the table between them.
But alas, Laura was entirely helpless and could only stand frozen in terror.
"St-stay away from me," Laura choked out in a trembling voice, but her words didn't possess any of the stinging venom they'd had the day before. In fact, Sherlock responded with a laugh, low and mocking and God dammit she hated to admit it but she found the sound alluring as well.
He was like a drug of the worst kind, equal parts addictive and destructive. Laura didn't want this anymore, she hated every part of this with every fiber of her being, and yet she couldn't get away. He was her own personal demon and he was here to stay.
Sherlock leaned forward and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, the tiny hairs lifting and goose-bumps rising on her arms even as she dug her fingers into her palms so hard she could feel her nails cutting into her skin. He ran a cool hand down her forearm, the entirety of his palm slowly dragging across her flesh, and Laura squeezed her eyes shut when his other hand came to rest on her hip.
She stood motionless as his fingers slid beneath her shirt to gently massage her hip bone. Laura knew from experience that no matter how hard she tried to resist, there was nothing she could do. She was trapped, caged in the softest of barbed wire, and free will was no more than a cruel illusion created to increase her suffering. So Laura gave up on fighting back, gave up on running away, and gave up…she could hardly believe it but she supposed that meant she'd given up on John as well.
Laura's head lolled back to rest on Sherlock's shoulder as he kissed at her neck, his warm lips eagerly chasing across her skin. His hand was beneath her shirt now, sliding up to cup one of her breasts as his other hand pushed beneath the waistband of her shorts. She was Sherlock's now; she'd given up her claim on John and Sherlock had snatched her up for himself.
But no, that wasn't right. She couldn't give up on John. John was her world, John was everything. He loved her, really truly loved her in the purest sense of the word, and she couldn't give up on that. People fought and died and killed for something like that; she wasn't going to let him down when so many others had sacrificed so much in the name of love. It would hurt, it would continue this terrible brand of misery she hadn't had to face since the age of eighteen. But John was worth it.
"Sherlock, stop," she heaved, the words erupting from her lips with the strength she'd been sure she'd lost over a month ago.
"Why?" he questioned with that same low laugh, and she paused for a moment before clearing her throat.
"John," she said, a small smile forming on her lips as she spoke his name like a wistful prayer.
"What about him?" Sherlock asked as he traced a finger around her nipple, and she frowned at his unexpected response. Her body felt limp, completely supported by Sherlock's sturdy frame behind her, and it was as if he'd dissolved all her resolve with that one question.
She knew she'd had a whole argument lined up in her head, a whole list of reasons as to why John was an adequate reason for Sherlock to leave her alone. But as Sherlock's hand pushed farther into her shorts and her hips began to roll forward into his fingers, Laura knew there was no chance of her remembering what she'd wanted to say.
But she had to say something, anything, to get him away from her. She didn't want this, she never really had, and it had to end now.
"Because he's right upstairs," Laura panted, speaking the first words that came to mind. She felt his lips spread into a smile as he slid his fingers away from her vagina, and she was able to think a little more clearly.
"What's so funny?" she demanded as he chuckled into her collarbone, and she let out an involuntary whimper when he pressed his nose into the shell of her ear and sucked her earlobe into his mouth.
"The fact that John's proximity is my only obstacle," he whispered, letting out another low laugh as her shorts pooled around her ankles on the floor.
Laura jerked upright in bed, her limbs flailing as she desperately tried to get Sherlock away from her.
"Laura, what's going on?" John shouted, his muscles tense and his eyes wide and alert as he frantically scanned the room, and Laura's breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of the gun he'd instinctively pulled from the drawer of his bedside table.
"Nothing. Just a bad dream," she told him in a small voice, her eyes glued to the weapon. John hesitated for a moment before he let out a heavy sigh as he returned the gun to its proper home.
"Jesus, Laura, I'd thought…don't do that again," he told her in an exhausted voice as he ran his hands over his face.
"Sorry," she whispered, clutching her hands in her lap as she fought to keep them from shaking.
"I…I didn't mean to scare you," John said a moment later as he watched her trembling hands.
"You didn't," she assured him. An entirely different monster, far more dangerous than any man-made weapon, was responsible for the fear that made Laura's muscles twitch. John scooted forward, taking her quaking hands in his, and she looked up to see him watching her carefully.
"Was it really that bad of a dream?" he asked, and she knew he was offering to listen if she wanted to talk about it. But Laura didn't even want to think about it.
"I'm fine," she told him, and she sounded far from convincing even to her own ears. But she was just so tired of lying to John that she hardly cared to conceal her deception anymore.
"You don't look fine. You look like you've just seen a ghost," John told her, and Laura supposed she had. The ghost of Life-Ruining-Mistakes Past had come for a late night visit, and she didn't really care to see what insights the other characters of this cruel and twisted version of A Christmas Carol had to offer.
"I'm alright, really," she told him, going through the motions of setting him at ease as she lay on her back.
As she stared up at the familiar ceiling of John's bedroom and he continued to watch her with concern, Laura knew Sherlock's final words in her dream had been wrong: It wasn't just the fact that John had been nearby and could have discovered them that had made her try to stop Sherlock. It was so much more than that.
She could remember it all now as John began to place soft kisses on the backs of her fingers and slowly rubbed his thumb into her palm. She loved John, enough to fight and endure for him, and no matter how bad things got she wasn't going to give up on him.
"Let's go get some breakfast," Laura suggested with a genuinely warm smile after a few more minutes of silence, and John blinked down at her in surprise. She knew he'd probably expected her to continue to quake in fear or perhaps fall into a pit of despair. But Laura was a fighter now, a warrior, and warriors did not mope or shake in terror. Warriors knew they needed a steady diet of delicious food if they were going to have any hope of success, and Laura felt more than deserving of Mrs. Hudson's tea and toast.
"Alright," John responded with a smile of his own, keeping her hand in his as they made their way downstairs. Laura hesitated for a moment at the base of the staircase, but she took a deep breath and followed John into the living room. She let out a sigh of relief when she entered the vacant area, and John gave her an odd look but didn't comment. He led her into the kitchen and she crossed the threshold without incident, her grip on his hand tightening but relaxing a moment later as she realized she really had nothing to fear.
Laura and John enjoyed a breakfast of tea and jam-laden toast, and she quickly decided that she'd spend the entirety of the quiet day with him lounging around the flat until he had to go in for his shift that afternoon. It had been far too long since she and John had really enjoyed each other's company, and Laura wanted to do all she could to bring them as close as they'd once been.
Laura's plans were disrupted when Sherlock entered the flat around 9:00 brandishing a harpoon and completely drenched in blood. She'd shrieked at the sight of him as John merely gaped in surprise before rolling his eyes a moment later, and she hated to admit it but Sherlock's disgusting appearance made it significantly easier to keep her hateful fantasies at bay.
The chances of her being able to share a quiet day alone with John continued to deteriorate when Sherlock returned to the living room with cleansed skin and fresh clothes. He twitched and shuffled and bounced up in down in his seat and Laura found her head throbbing with exhaustion even as she watched him.
It was odd, but the longer she observed Sherlock, the clearer it became to Laura that she was no longer attracted to him. He'd been the one to pull her in and begin this terrible obsession, but her feelings towards Sherlock himself had thankfully returned to that state of fascinated friendship she'd so enjoyed before he'd begun his cruel little mind-games.
The creature within her mind still lived on, but it seemed her shameful encounter with the detective himself had brought an end to her attraction towards him. If she could just conquer the beast he'd created that resided in her head, Laura knew she could go back to being truly happy again.
Laura scooted out of the way when Sherlock began his frantic search for his hidden supply of cigarettes, and she shared a knowing look with John as the detective frantically bounded from one side of the apartment to the other. She watched with an amused smile as Sherlock's voice rose an octave and his hands fluttered when he mocked the case of Bluebell the vanishing rabbit, and she held back a laugh when John cried out in frustration while Sherlock's limbs senselessly jerked about in his black chair.
She'd missed this, being able to casually watch the two of them interact, and Laura felt light with relief as the first taste of complacent joy she'd had in what felt like years eveloped her. She didn't bother to listen to what the shaken man, Harold or something, said as he talked, and she didn't care that she laughed too loud when Sherlock bounded forward to inhale Hector's cigarette smoke.
They were back. John was her John as he'd always been, and now Sherlock was Sherlock again too. She didn't care if Sherlock's feelings towards her hadn't changed, if he still felt that carnal desire he'd clearly expressed the morning before. There was no way he could pull her back to him, could hurt her again, and the knowledge that she was at least safe from the real Sherlock— even if the imaginary one still tormented her— was enough for Laura.
When John and Sherlock decided to take the Herman's case all the way in the moors of Baskerville, she knew it would probably be two or three days before she saw them again. The deducing pair had taken plenty of cases outside of London in the past; but that didn't stop Laura from pulling John into a kiss that was far more passionate than necessary once Harvey vacated the flat. She slid a hand into his hair as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Laura knew she was probably thoroughly embarrassing him but she just couldn't help herself. Everything was going to be alright.
Laura pulled away from John, smiling as she took in his startled expression and flushed cheeks.
"Be careful," she told him, more because that's just what lovers said when they parted ways than because she feared for his safety. Sure he and Sherlock had encountered a few close calls in the past, but Laura felt as if luck was finally on her side and that this would be one of their least-exciting cases yet.
"Of course," John assured her with a breathless nod, and she gently patted his cheek before turning to Sherlock.
She stepped towards the detective with only a hint of hesitation, then stood on her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. She knew it was a risky move, touching him like that, and really just standing so close to him wasn't the wisest choice. But Laura had to make sure things really were back to normal before she allowed herself to take stock in false hope.
Laura could barely hold back a sob of joy when his skin on her lips brought about no desire, no longing, no hunger whatsoever. It felt as if she'd just kissed her boyfriend's eccentric flat-mate rather than a man she'd eagerly fucked a mere twenty-four hours before.
Laura beamed at her two Baker Street Boys as they exited the flat, unable to conceal the immense joy she now felt. The two men stared at her in confusion for a moment before John offered a wave with a smile and Sherlock merely exited without a second glance.
Laura was left alone with her giddiness once they departed, an added pep in her step as she bounced into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea in John's favorite mug. She lowered herself into his chair a few minutes later, closing her eyes and leaning back with a sigh once she'd re-positioned the union jack pillow.
Her complacent smile faded as time went on and her imaginary Sherlock made his presence known in her mind once again. But Laura knew she could face him, that she was stronger than him now. She had John and Sherlock—she had everything—and the only tool this cruel projection had was a weakness she knew she could overcome. She was a warrior, and with the detective and the love of her life by her side she knew she could defeat this one final enemy that stood between her and happiness.
A/N: I like this chapter more than I'd expected to-it had sweet John, possessive Sherlock, and false-hope Laura. I say false hope because we all know that Sherlock and John's trip to Baskerville was pretty exciting (oh how I love dramatic irony!), so if Laura was wrong about that, perhaps she's wrong about things starting to get better too...? Only time will tell...
Also I had so much fun coming up for names for Henry other than Henry. You guys have no idea how entertaining that was. Probably because I'm insane and you all are...not.
Next chapter: John confides in Sherlock, and the detective is forced to take a close look at his less than admirable actions over the past few weeks.