A Game Of Hearts And Minds

CHAPTER XIV - Telling him

I was hurled up on the in my chair before the fireplace a book in hand, where I had been sitting on the chair this afternoon, and I looked up and cast my mind back to what happened. I stared ahead of me, zoned out. So zoned out that I hadn't even heard Sherlock come up behind me from out of the kitchen. It was only when I could feel his warm breath covering my neck that I realized he had come up behind me. He rested his hands next to my shoulders on the backrest of the chair. I whipped my head backwards, I hissed slightly as I felt the cuts on my neck tighten, Sherlock's head was now positioned above mine and he pecked a kiss on my lips. "You okay?" 

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Sherlock straightened up, the warmth of his body retreating away from me. He walked over to his own chair, and plopped down. I lifted my book in front of my face again, and continued on reading. The longer I kept on reading, the more I could feel Sherlock's eyes on me. I looked up from my book, glacing over the top of it and staring Sherlock in the eyes. "What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing." Sherlock went dead-silent.

"Sherlock, you're hardly ever this silent. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sherlock tried again. I put my book down on the armrest of my chair and rose from my chair. I had to wait a second before I could walk off due to dizzyness, low iron my ass, and then I walked his way. I sat down on the armrest next to him, my head on his shoulder and my hand around his waist. "Sherlock. I have known you for years. I know something is wrong." Sherlock sighed. "What was that man on about. The thing he whispered."

I immediately knew what Sherlock was reffering to, the kiss with Moriarity. I was fidgetting with my hands, Sherlock looked down at my hands. "It's bothering you too, tell me."

"You won't be mad?"

"I won't."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Something happened with Moriarity." I spat out. Sherlock eyed me up as tears were welling behind my eyes. Sherlock took my hand in his, his eyes constantly on me. He nodded slowly, like edging me on. "He kissed me. But it isn't what it seems. He drugged me, Sherlock. It was all just a sick game for him."

I could see the fire burning bright behind Sherlock's eyes. "He wanted me unconscious, vulnerable. I woke up in the basement afterwards. It was a ploy, Sherlock. A twisted way to get to you." I explained. I could feel my eyes searching his for understanding. Sherlock leaned forward, his demeanor shifting from anger to protectiveness. There was my hint of understandment.

"I have been wanting to tell you this for so long, I just-. I didn't know how." Tears came into my eyes now, barely on the verge of falling. "He wanted to use you as leverage against me. But for what? What does he want that he thinks I would willingly give up your safety for?"

I zoned out, and thought about the dream I had. 

The place went eerily quiet as I held out the gun in front of me, aiming it directly at Moriarity's head. Adrenaline rushed through my veins and my heart beated out of my chest. "Tsk Tsk," Moriarity began, "You really think that you could pull the trigger? You won't." He stared right through my soul and it made me feel violated. "Because, if you do. I shoot Sherlock, and If Sherlock tries, I shoot you. To me, all you are is leverage."

"Leverage." I mumbled under my breath. Things started to piece themselves together in my mind, and I lowered the gun to my side, my gaze remaining on Moriarity. He looked unsure, maybe even confused. Suddenly, realization seemed to dawn on his face and he began to step towards me. But I was quicker. Before he got ahold of the gun, I had the gun back up. Just pointed at another target.

No one made a sound.

"Lauraine." Sherlock breathed out. I glanced over at him, tears in my eyes, horror and shock in his. I hated to see him like this. I felt tears sting in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I turned back to Morairity, and looked him right in the eye. The fire inide me burning bright as I reminded myself of why I was doing this.

I felt the cold muzzle of the gun shake against the base of my chin. "Drop it." Moriarity taunted.

"No. I won't be your leverage."

I sighed, coming back to reality and feeling the weight of the situation sink in. "I don't know. Maybe he just enjoys the thrill of the game. It's all a sick joke to him."

Sherlocks eyes bore into mine. "He won't get away with this." I appreciated the protective stance Sherlock took, but concern lingered in my voice as I spoke. "Sherlock, promise me you won't let this consume you."

Sherlock didn't answer, however, he opened his arms and I fell down on his chest, tears streaming out of my eyes onto his blouse. Sherlock kissed my forehead repeatedly and ran his fingers through my hair in an attempt to calm me down. "I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." I sobbed into his chest.

Sherlock couldn't take his eyes of me for the rest of the evening. And while I hoped it wasn't because he was filled with rage but I couldn't tell, he would prove that to me later that evening. When he pressed me against the door, while he kissed down my neck, his arm lifting up my leg wrapping it around his waist, and when he dropped me down on the bed, I knew that all was forgiven.