An Affair with the Enemy (A Sherlock Fanfic)

Chapter 18

Tanya

It was quiet. Too quiet for my liking. Unlike the funeral scenes in movies where the rain pattered on umbrellas, this funeral was silent and we absorbed the heat that radiated from the sun. I had come back from my dad’s funeral; there weren’t too many people there seeing he was a criminal and all that. But my mum had come from Yorkshire. She was beyond devastated and I saw she didn't enjoy London's atmosphere as she felt out of place. I told her to to head back north and she didn't protest even once.

Walking from one end of the graveyard, I saw a small gathering of people in black. Approaching the group, I looked at the head stone. Sherlock Holmes. Taking in everyone’s expressions, I saw a few people shed a few tears. I didn’t cry though. I couldn’t. I was tired of being so weak and I was tired of losing the people I loved most.  Thinking back to yesterday, I replayed my memories.

~~~

He stepped off and a scream escaped my lips. Just as I set off to run to the ledge, a pair of arms were around my middle holding me back. I struggled to release myself and I kicked whoever held me in place but only ended up flailing about like a fish. “Please!” I groaned wanting to see if Sherlock had miraculously survived even though my subconscious begged to differ. After five minutes of trashing about and screaming, my body lost all its energy as my limbs began to weaken. My screaming had reduced to groaning and finally whimpering. I gave up fighting and dropped to the ground. I turned to see who held me in place and thought I had seen Irene Adler.

~~~

Remembering Irene, a wave of annoyance washed through me. She was probably in on this plan. But why would she hold me back if she didn’t care if I was alive or dead? Irene killed Sherlock. Irene killed Sherlock. Irene killed…”Tanya.” I lifted my head to meet John’s watery eyes. “I’m off now. Um…Mrs Hudson will be in the flat so if you need anything, let her know.” He swallowed thickly and let the tears slide down his face. “I’ll be there to visit in a few days.” With that, he turned his back and walked away. I was left alone with Sherlock. I didn’t want to say anything but I knew I had to.

“Thanks. You’ve been a great flatmate, friend, best friend…But that’s not what I’m thanking you for. Thanks for leaving me. Like everyone else did.” My voice faltered and I thought it was time to stop. “Let me say one more thing. Stop this.” I blinked the tears away. “Stop being dead. Please.” Leaving the graveyard behind me, I called for a cab and reached the flat soon.

The moment I stepped into the once habited flat, my bottom lip began to quiver and a wave of anger washed over me. Both Sherlock and my dad were selfish enough to leave me. Kicking over a chair, I sobbed. But these were angry sobs that rose from my throat. I swept all of Sherlock’s notes onto the floor and kicked the coffee table over. Picking up his violin, I wanted to throw it out of the window. But I stopped myself. What had I done? My throat was dry, my head throbbed and my tears had stopped. Sniffling, I began to clean the mess I had made and put it back in the same messy way Sherlock had.

~~~

The door opened and Mrs Hudson came in leaving a fresh tray with food and tea on it. This was the fourth tray she had replaced. The silence had been interrupted by the scraping of the tray against the floor. Rage took over me as I stood up and yelled at her. “You always say that you’re not a housekeeper and that you’re a landlady so why are you bloody well acting like one?” She yelped in shock and ran in fear. The anger paced through me before I sighed and lay back down on the sofa. The door opened once more and I let out an exasperated huff. “Jesus Christ Mrs Hudson. Would you oh so kindly fuck off. Please.” I pleaded. A low chuckle came from the door.

“Never have I seen such foul words come out of a sweet mouth like that.” I sat up in shock expecting to see Mrs Hudson but facing John. He looked weak but somewhat stable. I wondered what I looked like. “Now, how long have you been on that sofa for?”

“I don’t know and I could care less. An hour or two?” He laughed again.

“Well according to a certain Mrs Hudson, you’ve been like this for the past four days.” Wow. That went quick. He made his way over to me and sat on the edge of the sofa. “You look awful.”

“Thanks.” I replied bitterly. “Now stop playing doctor and leave.” I raised my arm to shove him away but he caught it quickly as he peered down at it, his eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s this?” I looked down at what he was looking at. A few gashes marked my arm as though I had stabbed myself with something. I didn’t remember doing any of those. He must’ve guessed I didn’t know with my expression so confused. “That would explain the empty and smashed bottles.” He gestured to the empty bottles and glasses on the table. I sat up but groaned. I felt awful. How was I capable of stabbing myself with that? Maybe I tripped. Clumsiness was one of my natural traits after all.

"These four days have been a living hell for me. I mean, I came home from the funeral and cried till I had exhausted all sadness from within. But it still hurt you know? So I drank." I rolled my eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh. "Drank to drown my sorrows. Sounds like a line from a film." I laughed like a mad woman and then stopped abruptly. "Anyway," I pulled my sleeve down my arm. "I don't need help and I certainly don't need help from you." 

"Why are you angry at me? Have I done something wrong?"

"Of course you've done something wrong! You've gone off to live your happy detached life while I'm stuck in here like it's some kind of asylum." He stood in front of me, an apology etched in his expression.

"I'm sorry. Look, I'm here to look after you. I promise I am. I won't leave."

"Well I don't need you to. I'm off to New York tomorrow."