I wake in a cold sweat, still thinking about the cold brown eyes that matched mine as their owner held a knife to my throat. I breath hard and lay back on the pillow. This was the third time I'd woken up tonight, screaming in terror. Every time, Chase had come up and tried to murder me for leaving him. I had these nightmares ever since the night that he showed me his new "hobby," but it was different tonight. It's like the date with Sherlock had triggered something that made me feel guilty for leaving Chase. But why should I be guilty? He's a murderer! I shake off all the thoughts and get out of bed. I definitely know that I'm not getting anymore sleep tonight. But by now the peaks of dawn are showing and I decide to start my day now. I slip on a dressing gown and start a pot of tea. I sit down on my couch and sip on my cup of tea. I grab a quilt off the corner of the couch and pull it around me. I hear a slight knock, as if someone's trying not to wake someone. Of course Sherlock (obvious from the fact he was probably awake and there is no way John or Mr might be trying not to wake me. I set my cup down onto the coffee table and stand up, the blanket still around my shoulders. I take his trench coat off the hook to give to him. I unlock the door and move the chair.
"Hey, Sherlock," I hand him his coat back.
"Thanks and are you okay? I heard you screaming a few minutes ago. I would have been here early, but I had to uh... take care of something."
"Like put your trousers on?" I raise an eyebrow and he blushes. "John told be about Buckingham Palace."
"Oh, god! I told him not to tell you!"
"I think that was after he told me. Would you like some tea?"
"I'd love some, thanks." I pour him a cup and join him on the couch. We sip our tea in silence for a while until Sherlock asks me a question.
"Why were you screaming?" He asks. "If you don't mind me asking."
"Just a nightmare."
"But that's interesting, because you haven't had them for a while. You had them way more when you first moved in, but then they decreased." He sees my face fall. "I'm sorry, I'll shut up."
"No, it's fine, really. Um, I think that I'm slightly guilty that I'm dating you."
"That's odd, why would that be?"
"Uh, I think that it's related to Chase."
Sherlock's eyebrows shoot up.
"The murderer?" He says, stunned.
"I know it's not that I don't like you because I'm pretty sure I love you, but-" My words are cut of by Sherlock's lips.
"I love you, too," he says. And our lips touch once again.
"Well, isn't that just darling," We break apart staring at the door, which had been successfully picked, while we were confessing our love.
"Chase?" I say, in surprise, jumping up.
"Chase," Sherlock growls.
"Sherlock Holmes, I always hoped I'd meet you. Pleasure." But he walks over to me, not Sherlock. I back up into Sherlock's arms, my face expressionless.
"What aren't you happy to see your fiancée?" His eyebrow jerks up and his brown eyes twinkle with malice.
"Um, ex fiancée and no, not really," Sherlock wraps his arms around me, protecting me.
"Oh! Am I interrupting something? I guess I've never really introduced myself. Chase Owens, and well, Ana knows what I do," he says sending me a wink and reaching out to shake hands with Sherlock. I open my mouth to say something, because something doesn't feel right, but their hands meet and Sherlock crumples to the ground.
"Well, now that that's out of the way." He rips my dressing gown off, revealing a very skimpy tank top and very small tight shorts.
"That's better." He smirks and I wrap my arms around my midriff, trying to protect myself.
"You have no right to break into my flat and to knock out my Sherlock. That is if you didn't kill him."
"Is that what you think I am? A killer?" My heart rushes to him.
"No, never-"
"Well, too bad because I am. And you're the one I've wanted to kill the most since you left me." My heart beats faster. There is no way that John is up, much less listening to the conversation happening down here. Oh god, this is it. I'm dead.
"I usually make the deaths quick, but for you, the one who broke my heart, I am going to make it slow and painful until you break." I take a sharp breath and raise an eyebrow.
"Good luck." I send a mental message to John: WAKE UP!
"Oh you'll need it." He takes out a long, skinny, silver knife. My heart just about stops at the sight of that. He presses the cool metal against my neck.
"How about your pretty little neck? You will never be able to speak words again. Or you know live."
"At least I die with pride. Unlike you, you filthy rat!" I spit in his face. He looks at me, the cold burning in his eyes. He slaps me across the face, hard. I bite the inside of my cheek, drawing blood. I close my eyes, rid them of emotion, then open them. Stony hard emerald, warning they may cut. Chase presses the blade harder against my neck and I feel the blood being drawn. He just keeps pressing it harder and harder, waiting for me to break, but I don't. I stand there, looking him dead in the eyes and ignoring his hand that is too low on my back. He slaps me again, harder.
"Oh, just give up! I'm stronger than you think!" I shout in his face.
"Oh I know, that's why when you break it's going to be even better." He punches me in the eyes and I can literally feel it swell up, but I don't feel any pain or anger. Just cold. I feel the blade cut into the skin on my forearm and pull down. Numb. He slaps me again. Cold. More knife. Numb. Finally, I scream. As loud as I can. John comes. I get dropped. I feel Sherlock's body beneath me. I brush the dark curls out of his face. I see tears land on his pale skin. They are mine. Gunshots. Glass breaking. Am I okay? No. I feel someone grab my shoulder. React. Punch. Kick. Harm. No one will touch me. I am invincible. I am nothing. I look at my hands. Blood. My vision blurs over. Sherlock. I feel his neck for a pulse. Someone yanks my hands away. Punch. Kick. No one will touch me. I hear yelling. I feel a syringe in my arm. The one with out the blood dripping. Black.
A/N: I had a really fun time writing this one! Do you guys like Chase? Please review! Thanks!
CaughtInTheStorm