Pretty Stranger...Why Are You Following Me? (Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-Two

John stared at me, just as shocked as I was.

"H-he did?" John finally asked.

I nodded and took one more deep breath as more tears slid down my face.

"And I didn't get the chance to say it back." I whispered, looking down. I watched the tears soak the ground. One by one.

"Hey, Emily, it'll be okay." John said. "Yeah, sure." I growled, standing up and walking across the roof. I pounced down the stairs and found myself outside of the hospital. Camera men a news women crowded around me.

"Emily, do you know why-?" "Because you turned on him, that's why. You didn't believe in him, unlike some people." I hissed, shoving past them all. I turned down the street, wanting to get away from all the shocked eyes.

Two Days Later:

I threw the paper on the coffee table, frustrated. All this bad publicity and fame just for two sentences. I was done. I didn't care what they all thought.

Two Years Later:

I shimmied into pale pink dress with a black collar. I slipped on my flats, rings, bracelet and snapped on my black, stud earrings. I grabbed my keys and one of my small black purses and headed out the door.

Heading for 221 B Baker Street. John wanted to talk to me about something.

I arrived at the flat, slipping my key into the lock.

"John!" I shouted, stepping in.

"Emily," John gasped. "I didn't think you'd come." I sighed and said, "I'd been putting this off for too long." John nodded and I followed him up to the flat. "She hasn't cleaned." I stated. "Yeah, no reason to." John replied sadly. I nodded.

"Please, have a seat." John said. I sat down in Sherlock's chair, just the way I used too. It annoyed him. John sat down across from me.

"So, Emily-?" "I know what you're going to ask and the answer is yes." I sighed. "Really?" John asked. "Really." I said. "I didn't think you'd except." John replied. "Someone's gotta look after Mrs. Hudson when you move out." I stated gloomily. "You've got a point. When can you move in?" John asked.

"Soon." I said, looking around. "Someone already wants to buy my house." John frowned. "You put your house up for sale?" He asked. "Yeah, it was too big for me. Too....empty." I sighed. "Without Sherlock in it all the time."

I shut my eyes, gulping back tears. "Sorry, sorry. I forgot." John said. "It's fine." I wheezed. "I'm already packed. I can probably move in by the end of the week." John nodded and got up.

Moving Day:

I grabbed a dark red t-shirt and some light was jeans. I slipped on my black converse and pulled my hair into a French braid.

People were already loading things into a truck. Only the boxes I packed, since I wasn't getting rid of any of his furniture. Once it was all loaded up I drove to the flat, the moving truck following me. We unloaded all of the boxes, mind you, there were a lot of boxes.

All the people had finally gone and now it was my turn. I opened my boxes of clothes and started pulling them out. Then I opened the closet and pulled out all of his clothes. Folding them neatly, I put his clothes in a box. All of his things, except the pictures of us and the skull, went into boxes.

Five Hours Later:

"Mrs. Hudson!" I shouted. "Do you have a place I can put these?"

"Upstairs, dearie." Mrs. Hudson replied. I nodded and headed upstairs. I unlocked the door to the flat and pushed it open. John had been moved out for a month now, yet a window was open.

"That's odd." I said, setting the box down. I examined the room, yet found nothing. I shrugged and went to go get the other boxes.

Late That Night:

I tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake the feeling if someone else being up there. Footsteps creaked above me.

Down the stairs. Through a door. My....door.

I shot up and grabbed a torch. Along with his British Army Browning L9A1. I turned on the torch and started down the hall and into the kitchen. I heard footsteps in the front room.

"Whose there? I've got a gun." I said shakily. The figure turned and I thought I knew the face. But I couldn't tell because they slipped out the window before I got a good look. I turned off the flashlight and flipped the light switch. I set the gun down and turned to the door. Nothing was broken. It was as if they had a key.

I headed up the stairs to the second flat. The door was unlocked and left open as well.

"Very odd." I said. The very same window was still open and there were footsteps in the dust. I crouched to look at the footsteps. Same size as his feet. Same sole as his shoes. Same distance apart as his strides. And a trail of dust blown away. As if someone with a trench coat was walking around.

"Everything alright, love?" Mrs. Hudson asked from behind me. I jumped slightly. "Yes, fine. Just thought I left something up here." I lied. "Alright, love." She replied, heading down the stairs. I sighed and turned around, flipping off the lights and locking the door.