A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So...This is an idea I have been playing with for a while now....Basically, Mary faked her death and Sherlock confronts her...I know some of you really liked her, and don't get me wrong, she was a cool character, I just wish they had left her as a villain instead of giving her that redemption arch....If you loved Mary be warned....she is really not nice in this one...Enjoy<3
Sherlock looked out over the city he loved so much. His stomach was twisting itself into knots, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady.
It had been years since he had been up here, John would probably kill him if he knew he was up here. She wanted to meet up here, and Sherlock could understand why. It's a powerplay, throwing him off his game by reminding him of the worst decision he ever made.
Everyone thought he was crazy. 'She's dead Sherlock, you watched her die.' Mycroft had scolded him as he reluctantly handed him her file.
He never told John he was looking for her, he wasn't sure his Blogger could handle knowing that she was alive. It had nearly killed him when he found out she had died, and Sherlock wasn't ready to lose him again.
"You really do have a death wish, don't you?" He didn't turn to face her, he wasn't ready for that. He closed his eyes and breathed in the thick London air, willing his hands to stop shaking.
"You are difficult to find."
"I didn't want to be found."
"I noticed." He could sense her moving to stand beside him, but he still wouldn't acknowledge her, he wouldn't give her that victory.
"Why are you looking for me?" Sherlock swallowed thickly and closed his eyes against the memories that threatened tears.
"I just- I need to know why?" He felt more than heard her chilling laugh, and fought back against the tremor that lanced along his spine.
"I got bored. He didn't love me, anyone could see that. And I don't like being lied to." Sherlock turned on her then, his eyes burning as he thought of how miserable John had been.
"You could have just left. Do you know what your 'death' did to him? He tried to kill himself, tried to kill me-"
"I don't care." The smile on her face was cold and empty, and Sherlock shuddered as images of that same smile on his own lips flashed through his mind.
His blood ran cold when an image of that smile on John's lips filled his mind.
"What about Rosamund? Your daughter? What is he supposed to tell her?"
"Whatever he wants. I. Don't. Care." Sherlock glared at her, breathing as deeply as he could to stop himself from killing her for real. "I just needed a distraction."
"You married him! You had his child!"
"Yes, the baby was unexpected, but it certainly twisted that blade in your heart, didn't it?" She was grinning almost gleefully, and Sherlock felt his chest tighten when he remembered the pain that shattered his heart when he realized she was pregnant. "Poor little Sherlock, so painfully in love with the Good Doctor Watson but too afraid to say anything." She stepped onto the ledge and Sherlock shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
"You knew."
"Of course I knew. Hell, the only one that didn't know was John, the blundering fool-"
"Don't call him that!"
"How sweet, still defending him I see?" She spun to face him, the wind whipping through her now-red hair, she must have died it again, and grinned. "You have to admit, he's not the brightest. Not compared to you or I. He didn't even realize I was faking my death-"
