Title: Odd Love
Chapter: Better To Rip Your Heart Out Than Watch It Burn
Pairing/Characters: Sherlock/Female!Watson; Mycroft. Lestrade, Harry
Rating: T, a rather heavy T though.
Disclaimer: I'm not Steven or Mark or Conan, just a fangirl with a crazy imagination & internet connection.
Summary: Sherlock can't be found after the explosion and is presumed dead. Watson tries to go on but struggles.

Watson wakes up to an unknowing nightmare.

" Sleeping beauty finally awakens." a male voice says close by.

Watson gives a painful chuckle. " Funny, Mycroft." Watson tilts her head. " How's Sherlock? " She sees his face fall and repeats herself. " How's Sherlock?"

" It's complicated. " Mycroft fidgets uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact.

" How bad is it? Is he awake?" Watson persists.

" He's gone." Mycroft says somberly.

Watson felt the breathe leave her. "What? What do you mean gone? He can't be 'gone' gone? He's Sherlock."

" We haven't found the body but there is enough evidence to show that my brother didn't survive." His bloodshot eyes met hers.

" What evidence? Never mind," Watson starts trying to get out of bed and grabbing at her I.V. " I'll go to there myself. He's alive, he is! I'll find what you guys have missed. I'm sure he's left a clue."

Mycroft tries stopping her. " I wouldn't tell this to you if it wasn't true. He's my brother. You know I'd stop at nothing unless I knew, I knew." He holds her as she falls apart. She lets him comfort her because if there is anyone who remotely knows the horrendous pain she's in, it's Mycroft.

He feels her trying to speak and lifts up her head. " What is it?" He can see her tears stop replaced by rage & hate. " Your thinking about this Moriarty, aren't you?" She nods. " There's no trace of him. He could be dead, I hope he is."

" If you find out he isn't - "

" You will know, you will." Mycroft sniffles a bit. " Your sister was here but she hasn't been handling this well so Mrs. Hudson, DI Lestrade, and I have been helping her. She said if you would wake up she would go to rehab."

"About time. Wait, how long have I been unconscious?"

" A week? " she gasped as her head began to pound.

" Well you were in an explosion. Ghastly head wound. It's a miracle you can still hear. You were drenched when we found you. I'm assuming you were pushed or jumped into the pool."

" I remember Moriarty coming back in and Sherlock pointing his gun to the bomb but the rest is fuzzy."

" Probably for the best."

" Hmm, maybe. I'm oddly tired."

Mycroft got up. " I'll let your sister know you are awake but resting."

" Thank you."

As Mycroft starts to leave he turns back. " You meant the world to my brother, even if he didn't know it."

Watson chokes back the tears and shakes her head. When she was sure Mycroft was gone she cries and cries till sleep claims her.

The days and weeks after are a blur, a fast blur. Watson barely eats and sleep. She stops blogging. She visits the site of the explosion and tries to find proof Sherlock is alive and to find anything on Moriarty. Watson fails to find anything. The limp comes back as does the hand trembling.

Watson visits Harry in rehab and as Harry mopes about Clara, Watson interrupts her. " Bloody hell, Harry! Just call her instead of all this back peddling and moping. Put your ego aside and call her, tell her everything you told me."

Watson gets up from her chair in the rec room . " If you don't you'll regret it. Because one day telling the person you love that you love them might no longer be an option and all you will have is 'what could have been' & 'should have been' . There is no good time or bad time, just time, a short time."

Harry looks at her sister. " You never told him how you felt, did you? Did you even know?"

Watson chokes. " No."

Harry walks over to her sister and holds her grieving sister.

Time continues to pass by as it always does. As Watson puts flowers on Sherlock's grave she doesn't know she is being watched by Lestrade & Mycroft.

" She looks horrible, almost as horrible as you know who. " Mycroft notes.

" This has got to stop. It's becoming brutal to watch. I consider her a friend and I just can't participate in this charade anymore. if this continues I think it will end badly, worse than anything Moriarty could do." Lestrade says.

" I agree with you. Oh well, let him hate me, well more than he already does."

" Needs to happen though, but how?"

" Bring her here. Better to do it now when it's unexpected."

Lestrade walks over to Watson. " I've been looking for you. I need help on a case."

Watson chuckles. " You must really be suffering without Sherlock to ask for my help."

" It's about Sherlock's case."

This perks up Watson. " What happened?"

" I'll explain later but I need you to come, will you ?"

"Of course."

She follows Lestrade to a nearby limo and as she gets in she sees Mycroft. She nods hello. " Did you guys find Moriarty? How can I help?"
She's confused but hasn't felt more alive since her days with Sherlock.

" It will all be explained when we reach our destination." is all Mycroft says.

Their destination ends up being a mansion. As they walk into the mansion Watson looks takes it all in. It's like out of some Victorian novel, well with a Tim Burton edge. She's sure Sherlock would love this look. Mycroft instructs her to head to the room upstairs on the left and wait for him there. She's annoyed as hell at not being told what's going on and had it been anybody else other than him or Lestrade, she wouldn't have begun to go up the staircase. As she walks up she hears a violin playing. Watson feels her knees weaken as she registers what really may be going on. Watson opens the door and sees him on a couch facing away from her.

He doesn't look up as he starts talking. " Put the pictures on stand. She better look better this time. Seriously how hard is it for you to do this one thing? "

" Well - " he gets up but stops talking when he makes eye contact with her. Watson had wanted to hit but he looks as awful as she feels. She can see he's restraining himself, trying hard to hide what he feels. Probably thinking a witty remark or cruel joke to say. Instead they just stand there waiting for the other to make the first move and taking in how each other look.

" Why?" Watson finally mutters. " No jokes or put downs, just why."

He can see the mix of pain and anger in Watson's tone. He simply says. " To keep you alive."

Watson had figured that but needed to hear it. She limped over to him and took his violin from him and placed it on the couch. " So Moriarty is alive? " He nods. She still finds it hard to believe and touches his face. She wants to kiss him and confess all things she had told Harry she had wanted to say but anger prevents her. " There could have been another way."

He nods no. " You would die for me, he knows it. " He looks away. " He saw what I what I refused to."

" And what was that?"

" Once someone realizes they have a heart, they don't particularly care to watch it die in front of them. " He looks at her finally. " Better to hurt you than watch you burn."

" How's that working out for you? " she says as she moves herself closer to him.

He looks down at her. " Not as well as I'd hoped."

" Good." She pulls him down and kisses him. It's not returned at first but right when she decides to pull away he pulls her closely and returns her kiss with equal passion. He starts to pull her black jacket off but she stops him. " Sherlock, I know you don't enjoy - "

He puts a finger to her lips. " You enjoy sex. Let me do this for you. I want to do this." He inches them towards the couch.

She lets herself relax as Sherlock proceeds to kiss her collarbone. " Sherlock, you could at least lock the door."

Downstairs Mycroft looks pleased with himself. " I have done a good deed."

Lestrade chuckles. " Yeah, your a regular Mary Poppins."