Chapter 14: Funny things, these hearts! You don´t know that you have one until someone breaks it! or Don´t fall for strangers they might end up hurting you
NOTE: Thank your so much for the comment, I didn´t mean to make you cry, nina-hany but this one is probably even more sad…
A mundane thing like a heart? Gemma didn´t know she had one before it broke.
Basically upset Gemma right now but as it turns out upset Gemma prefers to kill instead of cope ;)
She simply stood there. Rain was pouring down on her skin through the already wet layers of her clothes. It seemed appropriate and if she would have been a bit more sentimental it would´ve matched the tears she didn´t shed. The keys to her flat were heavy in her trembling fingers. She must´ve been here in front of the door for over fifteen minutes without moving, her body simply refused to kick back in action. 'Just one more minute,' she thought, 'one more minute before I will pull myself together and be Moriarty again.'
She hadn´t always been Moriarty. She had been Anna or Mary, Smith or Miller. Names no one would think twice about, easily remembered but as easily forgotten, too. At least Gemma was the name her parents gave her when she was born. Her parents had taught her how to hide in plane side how to fight how to kill how to withstand torture but this? They´d never taught her how do deal with feelings. Sentiment was for the weak, her mother used to say. Well, before she got mad and turned herself over to religiousness instead of dealing with reality. Her parents had been terrorists but never out of some kind of misguided faith or believe in a greater cause just for the money. Both had been specialists in their departments and their skills were for sale. Like Gemma´s skillset was for hire even though she did it on a greater scale. But all her abilities didn´t help her now and all that was left for her to do was covering it up and move on.
Smoothly the key slid into the lock. Once inside she dropped her wet clothes in the bathroom stepped under a hot spray of water and finally stopped shivering. When she emerged from the bathroom she looked like herself again; perfect make up with deep red lips. When she stepped outside her flat again to drive to her office she was dressed in an immaculate black suit jacket and skirt and of course sleek black high heels. When she stepped inside of her office she felt like crap but still moved on to sit behind her desk and eventually got to work.
Sherlock stood inside his bedroom and starred at his bed. The sheets and blankets were still an unmade mess but he couldn´t convince himself to clean it up and let the last bit of Gemma´s presence in here fade away. It was sentiment and he remembered Mycroft always told him how caring is a disadvantage. He didn´t just care and he knew that he´d fallen for her the second she´d started the game. It seemed so long ago now. Still it was a miracle how he could´ve been so careless to believe Mycroft wouldn´t find out. On the other hand it was obvious how: hormones tend to cloud your judgment that´d always been a good enough reason not to get involved with someone. Though Gemma wasn´t anyone, she was a match.
Mycroft had called him half an hour ago. His brother didn´t seem to notice or care that Sherlock liked Gemma when he´d ordered him to see her at her office and tell her in person that it is over. Sherlock knew the reason for this course of action was to make her angry. She´d known the second he´d stepped back inside the apartment that it was over and now she was probably working and the main emotion might just be sadness but his brother´s plan could only step into action if she was furious.
John had stopped yelling at him the second he realized that Sherlock did care about Gemma. When she´d fled the flat Sherlock might have sat down on the couch for a moment his face in his hands and John might had put a hand on his shoulder and had whispered: 'Just so you know I´m still mad but… I´m sorry, Sherlock.' However those things were nothing Sherlock could afford to think about right now he´d to return to business.
It was still raining when Sherlock arrived at Gemma´s office. He could slip inside without being detected Mycroft had told him how to get in and where Gemma´s office was. On the top floor in front of a wooden door Sherlock took one last steadying breath before he pushed down the handle.
"Moran?" Gemma asked without looking up but realized her mistake immediately those hadn´t been Moran´s footsteps and she looked up from the pile of paper only to see him.
Sherlock stood inside her office closing the door behind him.
"How do you even know where I work?" Gemma asked startled before she refocused. "Never mind I don´t even want to know. What do you want, Sherlock?" She sighed heavily leaning back in her chair. Her eyes flickered over the gun that was attached to her desk. But those bloodstains would probably ruin the carpet and she was quite fond of it.
"The blood stains will ruin the carpet." Sherlock stated calmly as if reading her mind and Gemma rolled her eyes.
Near the big windows to Sherlock´s right were two heavy leather chairs and a small table holding a tray with a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers. He sat down in one of the chairs and Gemma got up to join him. She poured herself a whiskey not bothering to ask Sherlock if he wanted one, he didn´t anyway.
"Why did you come here? I got the hint, Sherlock. There is no need to talk about it. But I just wondered, there is one thing I would like to ask you. Did you ever consider just for one second to not turn me down? That this between us was … something more?"
"No."
"NO?! That´s all you gonna say?" Gemma felt heat rising in her chest. No, that´s all? Why was he here? To see her break? To humiliate her?
Her fingers tightened around the glass.
"Why. Are. You. Here?" She pressed the words through her gritted teeth. She needed to hold her shit together. There was no chance she would break down in front of him.
"I assumed it to be the appropriate way to tell you in person that our acquaintance is over." A moment of complete silence followed Sherlock´s businesslike statement. Gemma hold her breath she couldn´t believe this was actually happening. Sherlock on the other hand tried to breathe even while all he wanted to say was: Come with me!
"Get the hell out of here or I swear Sherlock Holmes I will kill you right now!"
The moment he turned and walked away from her something inside her chest ached, a feeling she had never known flooded her body and all her efforts were focused on holding back tears and sobs until he would finally have left the room. The second the door closed behind the waves of his coat she realized that the pain in her abdomen was caused by her heart breaking in thousand shards. With all the force she had left Gemma threw the Whiskey glass against the closed door. A bitter laugh filled the silence, funny though, she´d always thought she didn´t have a mundane thing like a heart. She couldn´t have been more wrong because it had just been broken and it hurt like hell. Unsteadily she got to her feet stumbling over to the shards of the broken glass. She sank to her knees to pick up the pieces tears had started to cloud her vision. Only managing a huffed laugh through her nose by the irony how she tried to pick up the shards. The thought occurred to her as she picked up a piece and accidentally cut into her fingers that she wouldn´t be able to put this glass back together the same probably applied to the remains of her heart. Her blood and her tears stained the rug. How could she be so stupid? She had wanted to scream in his face that she would have given everything for him. She would have given up everything. Because she didn´t just like him. Because she loved him.
Her disability to deal with the feeling that overwhelmed her body left only one logical solution: To destroy Sherlock Holmes for what he´d done to her.
To burn the heart out of him.
Ironically before they´d sex for the first time she´d told him she would enjoy making him fall. Make him fall seemed not such a bad idea after all, literally.
And after that she would start over somewhere far away from this mess.