Sherlock x OC It is what it is Book 2

Two Years

Note: This is a sequel to Black Masquerade Mask, if you haven't read book 1 go back and read it. This chapter is before the empty hearse happens, just when Sherlock fakes his death.

Warning: This is a really depressing chapter. I wrote it while listening to some sad music so I could write an emotional chapter :P

Third Person POV

As the days went by ever since the detective has fell off the rooftop, London has changed in the eyes of Viola. The assassin who has come to London for a change, has indeed experienced a lot of...modification. Viola experienced the most twisted kinds of moments when she was living in 221B Baker Street. With her beloved detective. But one day it was all taken away from her.

And ever since the detective has died, the one assassin has strived to move on. Failing miserably, day after day trying to demolish the memories left of him. The first week, Viola was hospitalized due to sustained mental break downs. Every single time she opened her eyes, she would be injected back to sleep. That happened for one whole week, one sixty eight hours.

Viola would wake up, sit up for five minutes, as the scene of Sherlock falling off the rooftop would shoot back to her, she would start sobbing uncontrollably, screaming out in pure agony her deceased one's name. She would be put back to sleep.

John has never left her side, he was her care taker. John Watson, stopped being himself though. He was not the Dr.John Watson, the kind hearted optimist that saw good in people anymore. He was nothing but a heart broken, dispirited mourner. The best way for John to grieve, to be saved, was by taking care of Viola.

The second week, Viola was out of the hospital. She decided to turn the melancholy possessing her, into rage. Who shall she take her anger out on? John? Not really, not the man who was standing by her side. Mycroft? Why yes, of course it's Mycroft.

Flashback to the Second Week

Viola got up that morning, she was sleeping in the new flat John has rented, far away from Baker Street. "Good morning, Em..Viola" John walked up to her hugging her while she stood there transfixed. "Viola..yes, Viola that's me" She muttered, her eyes fixed on a spot, motionless, hollow stare on that spot. "Viola, yes...do you want some breakfast? I've fixed" Viola pushed him off, stumbling back as she cut him off "Where are my.. toys?" She mumbled, silently as John looked at her concerned.

"I don't know" John looked away from her, obviously indicating that was a lie. "I'll find out...John thank you for taking care of me, thank you so much" Viola mumbled, barely moving her lips as she walked out of the new flat wearing her favorite Sherlock shirt and sweatpants. John phoned Mycroft that Viola has left the flat.

John was doing his share of taking care of Viola inside the flat, but outside the flat he could not keep up with her. He was still grieving! Mycroft was certainly composed given that his brother just died but then again it was Mycroft. He was the one taking care of Viola every time she left the flat. "Mycroft, Ema's out" John phoned Mycroft immediately. "I'm on it, she's unarmed yes?" Mycroft asked, sure of the answer. "Yes, I believe she is unless she has something hidden up her sleeve" John sighed in frustration. "Thank you John, Goodbye" Mycroft hung up the phone.

Viola hailed a cab, to the Diogenes club, off to see Mycroft. When she arrived, she was extremely calm she waited patiently for Mycroft to come get her. "Viola, please come in" Mycroft said a smile making its way on his face. "Pleasant to see you here, it's been a long while" Mycroft was making casual conversation as Viola walked behind him silently to the office. "You've lost five pounds, are you eating well?" Mycroft asked. She was staring into space, waiting for something. Her gaze was as if in a trance.