Love Is Blind

I had just come back from an undercover mission in America and was heading for Baker Street. Mycroft had pulled me off my mission because of what had happened last week. Sherlock and John were working a case and things didn't go as planned. Sherlock didn't do or see something and it had cost John his life. There was an explosion and Sherlock had lost his sight and he could regain it but was refusing to go to the doctors.

That was why Mycroft had sent me back to London. He wanted me to get Sherlock to go the Doctors. I was dating him after all. I was really worried about him.  Mycroft told me that Sherlock hadn't been eating or even left his flat since the accident. I knew Sherlock was trying to deal with his grief which he had only felt once before in his life, when he lost Redbeard as a child.

He had no idea how to deal with the loss of his only friend. I quickly walked through the busy airport terminal trying to get out of this place so I could get to the car Mycroft had waiting for me at the front door. As I was moving in-between a family of six my phone rang. "What?" I answered not bothering with the niceties. I was in no mood. I was worried about Sherlock, I should have been there for that case. 

I may have been able to prevent this but I knew better than to spend my time wondering about what could have happened. I couldn't change what had happened. I could change what was going to happen though. And right now I needed to be there for Sherlock. "Your ride just pulled up outside the airport doors," Mycroft said.

"I'll be there shortly. I'm trying to get through the masses," I said hanging up. A few moments later I was in the back of a black town car with my bag. Mycroft would be shipping the rest of my stuff to me in a few days.

"How was your trip?" the driver asked me.

"Fruitful," I replied shortly. "221B Baker Street please and quite quickly." He pulled out and got back out on the highway. I remained silent on the ride, not sure what to expect when I got to Baker Street. I wasn't sure if Sherlock would have trashed the flat or if it would be in order. Well in order as it got for Sherlock.

"Ma'am, we're here," the driver said.

"Thank you," I said grabbing my bag and getting out. I pulled out my keys and went in. I didn't even bother to stop at my flat of 221C and went straight up to Sherlock's. "Sherlock, sweet heart," I called coming into his flat. He had left the door open again. I set my bag in a dining chair in the kitchen and came into the living room to see Sherlock laying on the sofa.