Fight for Me

Chapter 85

After that night, Sherlock grew more distant but Lydia didn't understand what she had done wrong. Perhaps he later came to regret what they had done? He had been the one to initiate it and Lydia gave him several opportunities to stop them if he felt they were going too far, but he still had decided that he wanted her. But now it seemed that he must have thought it a mistake.

Not that Lydia was able to spend much time with him as she was busy with rehearsals and he always seemed to find himself a case. Perhaps it was due to his increasing fame or perhaps he was no longer discriminating against cases that were less than a seven. But either way, they were almost always separated from each other with their work.

Lydia returned to the flat after her last rehearsal before opening night, surprised to find the boys in the living room, drinking tea. She gave them a kind smile and asked, "have any interesting cases today?"

"Mm, Sherlock solved a robbery in less than ten minutes."

"Five," Sherlock corrected, focusing his attention on John instead of Lydia.

Although noticing how Sherlock refused to look at her, she covered it up with a smile as she praised, "well that certainly sounds like Sherlock."

"How'd your rehearsal go?" John asked politely when he realised that Sherlock was not going to inquire about her day.

"Oh, it was actually very good. The show's really come together despite the short time that we've had to rehearse. Are you two coming to opening night?"

"Of course, we wouldn't miss it."

"Unless there's a case of more importance," Sherlock added, causing Lydia's hopes to fall. She didn't know what she did wrong, but whatever it was was going to cost her Sherlock's presence in the audience. She knew if he truly didn't want to go, he would simply find himself a case, no matter how tedious or boring it was.

"Sherlock, it's your girlfriend's show, there's not going to be a case more important," John defended her, looking incredulously at his friend.

But Lydia quickly stepped in, "no, it's fine, John, I understand that he has work he has to do. I mean, he does save lives from time to time."

"She's only playing a tiny role, barely worth my presence there. Why should I have to suffer through a two hour musical just for her small and inconsequential solos?"

Lydia felt her heart shatter at that comment. The flat was coated with a thick blanket of silence as Sherlock's words settled and even he realised that he had gone too far. Despite the size of the role, it was the first gig she had been able to book since her emancipation from the Foundation. She had fought hard to get onto that stage, even for a show with such a limited run and a part so small. To have it deemed inconsequential and not worth his time by the man that she loved, it hurt her more than his distant demeanour over the past few days.

Finally Lydia found her voice again and she took a deep breath to control her emotions, "well, regardless of the size of the part, I am quite grateful to have it. I actually have to head out, the cast is getting together as a pre-opening night bonding thing. I just stopped by the drop off my rehearsal stuff and get changed into something more suitable."

With that, Lydia hurried off to her shared bedroom, not feeling safe enough to express her emotions until she was behind a locked door. She rested her back against the door and took in a shaky breath, trying to remind herself that that was just who Sherlock was. He didn't always understand how his words hurt people. He didn't mean anything by it.

She brushed the tears away and dropped her rehearsal bag onto the bed, Sherlock could deal with it later. Even though the pre-opening celebration had been a lie for an excuse to get out of the flat, Lydia decided to double down on it. She slipped into something more suitable for a party, a short black romper with off the shoulder sleeves, and touched up her makeup, hoping to annoy Sherlock by making it more dramatic than she normally did. It didn't really matter how she dressed, she only planned on popping over to her friends' flat, but she was hoping to stir some sort of response from Sherlock.

After slipping on some heels, Lydia left the bedroom and passed John in the hallway. He stopped her, a sympathetic look plastered on his face, "hey, Lydia, I just wanted to check in, make sure that you were alright."

"Why wouldn't I be? I've grown used to Sherlock's insensitive comments, John. I don't need him telling me that I have worth, I know that myself. And there is some truth in what he said, but that doesn't mean that the role means any less to me. Don't worry about me, John. I'm just going to go have fun with my castmates."

"Alright, but just remember that Sherlock is an utter prick and I think beneath all of that arrogance, he is actually proud of you."

"Sure, John. But I really must be off, have a good night!" Lydia gave him a peck on the cheek before slipping out into the kitchen, feeling Sherlock's gaze land on her as she came into view.

She flashed him a small smile and wished him a good night as well, telling him not to wait up for her. However, as she placed her hand on the door to the flat, she felt another hand atop of hers, stopping her from leaving.

She recognised it as Sherlock's hand immediately, so she looked up at him with a frown, "Sherlock, I have to get going, I'm probably already late enough as it is."

"You're not going out dressed like that."

Lydia wrenched her hand out from under Sherlock and turned to him, seething. "Excuse me? Since when do you dictate what I can and cannot wear? You don't own me, Sherlock, I can wear whatever I damn well please, especially in the middle of summer."

"That makeup makes you look like a whore."

Something inside her snapped at that comment and she pushed him away from her. "Well, you know what, part of me feels like one! We finally sleep together and then you start treating me like I'm worth shit to you! Is that all you wanted from me? A good lay? I'm done, Sherlock. I can't constantly adjust to your mood swings, I can't keep taking your insults and brushing them off as you just being painfully honest. There are times when you are the sweetest man I've ever known and I think I don't deserve you but then you act like this and suddenly it's you who doesn't deserve me. I don't need you to be incredibly thoughtful all the time, hell I'd settle for you being half decent all of the time if that meant you wouldn't turn into a cold hearted monster like this."

"Isn't that what I am?"

"No, Sherlock, it's what you pretend to be. It's an act for the public, one that you occasionally bring into our relationship, too. I don't know if you've been talking to Mycroft, or what it was that made you hide behind your walls, but unless you want to start being open with me instead of tearing me down, I'm leaving this flat right now and won't be coming back."

A flicker of pain passed through Sherlock's eyes, but he clenched his jaw and nodded, "very well, there's the door. Don't come running back to me when you realise that you're not going to make it far in this world."

"You bastard," Lydia growled, noticing how Sherlock flinched almost imperceptibly at her words. "You could have love, you know. If you didn't push everyone you cared about away."

With that, Lydia left the flat, letting the door slam closed behind her. Although her original plan had been to go straight to Zoe and Lawrence to crash with them, she decided that she was going to get a drink first. Anything to help her clear her head after dealing with Sherlock.

However, she was only a few blocks from the flat when pain erupted erupted from her head and everything went black.

-

(A/N): Was someone going to tell me that Sherlock is leaving Netflix on May 15th? I was not aware that I needed to finish writing this thing in less than a month (catch me glued to my keyboard as soon as I finish the term). Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, poor little Sherly got scared again. Hoping he won't keep fluctuated in his affections!