Ashes, Ashes

Sequined

- c h a p t e r   f o u r t e e n -   

Free time was gradually draining Emma of everything she had. She had a feeling that before the end of the week she'd have difficulty getting up out of her seat simply because of how exhausted she felt despite having done nothing. The majority of her energy was spent simply trying to sort through all of her varied thoughts.

Throughout her life, Emma had never been much of one to rely so much on her own mind and whatever ran through it. It just hadn't been necessary. Everyone else had acted as the thinkers, and she could simply go on about whatever she felt like doing. Now that everything was being twisted around, however, things wouldn't be so easy for her. There wouldn't be any more simple floating about life without a care.

Instead she found her mind hurting from all of the thoughts she was pushing through it and how often things ended up turning ill and more terrifying the more thought she pushed into it. Perhaps she was just overthinking things - but she refused to believe that. There was something going on, and she didn't enjoy a moment of it.

What had occurred with Sherlock entered Emma's head as strange, completely unusual and out of character for him. Certainly he wasn't going to end up becoming a kind person towards her just because of the fact Irene had left and she was still reeling from the loss, was he? For a few moments, it had seemed that was precisely what was going to occur.

After all, he'd shoved a piece of music he'd written by hand right into her waiting fingertips. Even through her awe, he'd continued to persuade her that it was her to keep, it was something that she needed on such a greater level than him. Since it was named after Irene, Emma knew she was missing one of the most vital pieces of the puzzle - but he'd given it to her, attempting to be "personal" about it.

She had even ended up sharing her ribbon project with him in its entirety. As a whole, it was meant to be something shared between her and her therapist. The idea of it could be considered embarrassing, very eccentric - but in those moments, Emma had trusted Sherlock enough to show him the ribbons. He knew all of the ins and outs, which was more than any other soul Emma could think of.

But in these days, all of that kindness he'd shown to her appeared to have faded away into oblivion. He morphed directly back into the Sherlock that she knew, the one that she'd always known. One time when she'd crept up to 221B during the day in order to offer a simple hello and a proper thank you for the music, she'd recieved a door slammed in her face.

There was absolutely no explanation for this sudden shift in behaviour - but sometimes it was rather difficult to follow Sherlock as his mind forged a path twisted by a million turns every few moments. He'd shifted himself quite a bit when he'd given her the sheet music for Irene, and then he'd shifted back.

It had been utterly foolish of Emma to believe that the shift might end up staying for more than a handful of days. Just because she tended to change herself around quite a bit and then allow the differences to stick permanently didn't mean anyone else would follow the same rules. Sherlock Holmes, of course, wouldn't be one of those people.

She still sort of wished that he could just be kind for once - or even not cruel. He certainly had that within him, but he wasn't allowing it to stay out as time went on. Emma heaved out a sigh, knowing there wasn't a single thing she could possibly do when it came down to Sherlock. No matter what she tried, she'd just end up bouncing back to the same place with the same problems.

At least she found that it was far simpler to move on to the more vital things in her life if she no longer had to worry about the way Sherlock was acting towards her. This meant Emma started thinking about how she needed money, and she needed it quickly.