John's face went pale. Mycroft was still reading the newspaper and hadn't looked up from it since he'd spoken.
"I knew it," I said, rushing away from them to the room I inhabited. John followed, confused still. I was throwing things into my suitcase when John grabbed my arm. I turned, eyes frantic and wide, and glared at him.
"What are you doing?" He asked, a concerned and frankly frightened look on his face. I pulled away from his grip and went back to my swift packing.
"What are you doing?" I muttered back as he grabbed both of my arms, pulling me to his chest. He didn't understand. I had to get out. The man of my nightmares knew I was there and he let me know it. I attempted to break away from him and despite my training he was still stronger. I gave up and let myself relax against him. I focused on the rising and falling of John's chest until my heart rate had dropped back to normal. I looked up at him and he let me go and stepped away.
"Thank you," I said quietly, with a sort of hoarse voice. My red and swollen eyes had dried and were going back to normal. Now all I wanted was to crawl into bed and go to sleep. We looked at each other and John opened his mouth to speak when a knock sounded at the door. We both looked over to see Inspector Lestrade looking into the room at us.
"Hello," He said, looking between the two and resting his attention on me. I turn to face him.
"Come in," I said with a sigh. Mycroft must have called him. This was now an open case again. He moved closer and switched on the light in the room.
"Thank you. I understand that you have a problem," He said this because he knew. He was being sensitive; didn't want to force me to talk about it. I nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, a dangerous ghost from my past has returned to haunt me," I replied in return. A dangerous ghost indeed.