I am so sorry it took so long to continue this story. Life caught up and school became crazy! But i hope those who still follow re looking forward to this. I apologize for it being too short.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my Imagination
"Sher….Sherlock…?!" I couldn't believe what was right in front of me! How could he be here!? In this flat?! He was supposed to be dead?! Angry quickly build inside me, unfortunately, it was quickly consumed by a light headed feeling. The room was beginning to twist and turn. I saw Sherlock run towards me in a state of panic; then suddenly everything went dark. "Joan? JOAN!"
When I finally came to, I was in a familiar bed, but it wasn't my bed. I quickly rose up from the bed; I was in Sherlock's room. 'It must have been a dream. I must have come here to cry and fallen asleep.' I shook by head and remade the messy bed. I exited his room and was quickly bombarded by a lean figure. "Joan!" said the baritone voice. Then I felt a warm embrace and I quickly looked up. "Joan what are you doing out of bed? You should be lying down; honestly ordinary people are completely ignorant of common sense." As if on que, I pushed him away. I watched as he gave me a confused look and suddenly so much angry had started to fill my body. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL SHERLOCK HOLMES? YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD! YEARS SHERLOCK, YEARS! AND SUDDENLY YOU THINK IT I ALRIGHT TO JUST COME BACK AS IF NOTHING HAD HAPPENED? AS IF I DID NOT WATCH MY BEST FRIEND JUMP TO HIS DEATH? WITH THE INABILITY TO FEEL HIS PULSE AS HIS BODY LAID ON THE BLOODY PAVEMENT!" I was completely filled with so much anger. How dare he come back, doesn't he know the pain and agony he has caused me?! "Honestly Joan, is now the time to joke?" I completely lost it, and the next thing I knew Sherlock and I were on the floor as I had him strangled in my arm.
He was uttering something but when the pressure on his windpipe it was impossible to understand. Suddenly I felt my anger drift away and replaced by sadness and pure agony. I released him as tears started to stream down my face. "You don't know how much you've hurt me Sherlock." As he regained his composure, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around me. "I don't know the reality of it. I only know the pain I put myself in being away from you." He whispered holding back something. Without thinking I looked up and kissed the dead man that now held me in his warm living arms.