Y/N's P.O.V.
"Sherlock?" I asked quietly as I stepped into the flat. As soon as I reached the top of the staircase, Redbeard was there to greet me and I silently said hello. Sherlock didn't move from his seat, he didn't react at all, keeping his eyes closed. I sighed, shaking my head, before making a move to go upstairs.
"Three days." He muttered.
"You've been gone for three days. Where were you?" He asked.
"I was worried."
"You know where I was, I was with John." I swallowed thickly. He couldn't have been that worried, I hadn't had one call or text off of him at all.
"Since the funeral, he... I don't want him to be on his own for the time being."
"Of course." Sherlock still hadn't bothered to open his eyes.
"But you're back now-"
"I'm just coming to get my things. Between myself, Molly and Mrs. Hudson, we're going to be looking after Rosie. I'm going to be staying in John's guest bedroom, so I can keep an eye on him too." I sighed and Sherlock opened his eyes suddenly. He looked hurt and angry and frustrated all at once and I slowly moved over to him, knowing he blamed himself just as much as John blamed him.
"I promised Mary I'd look after the three of you, this is just the easiest way. I'm sorry." I pressed my hand to his cheek and he closed his eyes leaning into my touch.
"I know." He nodded, placing a hand over mine and his other on my waist.
"I'm going to be no more than a text away. If you need anything, help on a case, someone to keep you company for a while, anything, let me know, okay? This isn't permanent." He pulled me closer so I was sat on his lap.
"I love you, Sherlock. Don't forget that." I kissed him and he kissed me back. The kiss was short, but sweet and full of meaning.
"I love you too." Sherlock muttered, leaning his head against mine.
"Don't forget to look after yourself too, Y/N. Please?" I nodded my head.
"You too, Sherlock. I'll be back before you know it." I moved away from him. Going upstairs, I packed up as much of my things as I could take in one trip, before going back down to say goodbye.
"Take Redbeard with you." Sherlock muttered and I looked at him in confusion. I planned on leaving the puppy here, considering I thought Sherlock would appreciate not being left completely alone.
"I won't be able to take care of him, not properly."
"Are you sure?" I asked, but got no response.
"Text me, Sherlock. Please. I love you." I left the flat, taking Redbeard with me and saying goodbye to Mrs. Hudson, before hailing a cab.
~
"You're needed back home." The voice spoke through my earpiece as I punched the woman in front of me.
"I'm a little busy, honestly." I mumbled. Knocking the woman's feet from beneath her. She let out a feral growl as she jumped back up to her feet.
"It's non-negotiable, L/N. This is important." The voice in my ear persisted.
"That is not my name." I muttered, grabbing the knife from the holster on my thigh. I barely dodged the woman's attacks, managing to cut open her arm, causing her to scream in pain.
"Y/N, enough. You're coming home." Mycroft snapped.
"You've gotten too distracted. You're killing more people than necessary. The mission-"
"The mission was to kill the bad guys, Mycroft. That's exactly what I'm doing." I planted my knife in the woman's chest, before pulling it out just as quick as it went in.
"I'm a killer and I'm doing what you hired me to do. So unless you have a good enough reason for me to come back, I'm finishing my mission."
"Y/N L/N, you're going to listen to me-"
"Y/N Moran." I snapped, scowling, despite being unable to see the man.
"My name is not L/N. It's Moran."
"The Tiger." A voice from behind me muttered and I turned around to see a man, barely even alive.
"Moriarty's Tiger?" I picked up a handgun, off the ground and fired it's last round, before dropping it.
"You're coming home willingly or I'm having you arrested. You've killed a lot of people, Y/N, but your services are required back in London." I scoffed, about to take my earpiece out and throw it.
"Just because you deemed Dr. Watson relatively stable doesn't mean it's your turn to go off the rails. You're grieving, but this isn't going to fix it."
"Mycroft-"
"I need your help. Sherlock needs your help." I froze at the name of the younger Holmes brother. Less than a week after I had officially moved out of Baker Street, he refused to talk to me. He wouldn't call or text and if I was in the same room as him, he wouldn't even look at me. It broke my heart.
"You can tell your brother that if he needs my help he can ask for it himself." I muttered.
"He's in hospital." Mycroft sighed.
"He almost killed himself with drugs, before going after a man known as Culverton Smith. I presume you know the name?" My breath got caught in my throat and Mycroft took my silence as an invitation to continue.
"He tried to attack him with a scalpel, thankfully Dr. Watson was there. He hit Sherlock more than once. Words were exchanged."
"Culverton Smith can and will kill him." I whispered.
"Mycroft you have to do something."
"There's nothing I can do, Y/N. That's why you need to come home." I nodded my head.
"I can have a plane ready at your nearest airport in 2 hours."
"Make it one. I'm on my way."
