{Dedicated to: AbbyDawson}

You reluctantly opened your eyes, not wanting to get up. It's not like you had to, it was your day off, but still, you felt the urge to get up. You groaned as you sat up. Out of habit you looked over. You shuddered and could feel a lump forming in your throat. You quickly looked away and got out of bed, making a beeline to the bathroom to take shower.

It's been two years since Sherlock jumped. You tried so hard to stay positive. It worked when you were out in public, but as soon as you were home, alone, it all slipped. You'd slap on a smile to show people that you were alright, that you had let it go, but in reality, it was all a façade, you were actually chronically depressed. It was amazing that you were able to even get out of bed in the morning.

You stepped out of the shower and to your room, a towel wrapped around your body and you walked into your room dressing back into pajamas and laying back down in bed. Before you knew it, you were falling back to sleep, not regretting that fact that your stomach was aching for food.

~ * ~

Your eyes shot open and you sat up looking around. You were woken suddenly by the sound of boxes moving and of a very low whistle, like a tea kettle. You got up slowly and carefully went to your closet, getting the baseball bat that was in there. With a bat in hand you headed down the hallway, taking every precaution to not make a sound. You checked the bathroom, noting. The closet, nothing. All that was left was the kitchen and the living room.

You turned to the kitchen and bat at ready. You froze in her spot, your eyes wide. Your grip on the bat ebbed away and it fell out of your hands, clattering to the floor. The tall man in front of you turned around. He was clad in a black pee coat, navy blue scarf wrapped around his muscular neck. His dark curls were swept across his forehead, his striking eyes gazed at you.

"No. . ." You murmured.

"(Y/-" the man was interrupted when your hand swept harshly across his cheek. A red mark apparent on his pale skin. He was clearly confused on why you ha struck him, to confuse him even more, you yanked him down to your height and kissed him almost as harsh as you had slapped him.

"It's so good to see you Sherlock." You breathed when you pulled away from your everlasting kiss.

"I am so confused." Sherlock breathed.

"Good."