The real fall

Chapter Sixteen

After work I collect my things from Molly's - who ignores me the whole time - and take a cab to 221B Baker Street. When I arrive Mrs. Hudson runs out and helps with my bags. "Oh dear it's been terrible without you here! He got in a fight last night with Bill! Oh there was such a commotion! I'm so glad you're back dear!" She babbles as we walk up the stairs.

I open the door and suddenly Sherlock is infront of me and pulling me into the flat. Mrs. Hudson sets down the bags and I thank her before she leaves. Sherlock pulls the bags out of my arms and dumps them on the floor before pulling me close. "Don't leave me again. Don't do it. Please." He mumbles. I laugh and shake my head but agree when I realise that he's waiting for me to reply. "Things are going to have to change around here though." I say. He frowns and I smile.

"Firstly, I don't want you getting stupidly high every night. I understand that it'll be hard to stop, so we'll try and do once a week, ok? If that's too hard then twice." I tell him. He pouts and grumbles but nods his head and reaches out for me. "I'm not done." I say. He looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and I sigh, enclosing him in a hug. He buries his head in my neck and smiles gently. "Also I want you to help clean the flat and do housework. And no being mean." I murmur. I feel the movement of his head nodding and then he mutters that he'll try, making me smile to myself.

I step back and study his face, gasping when I see his red eye which is slowly turning a deep shade of purple. I try to touch it when he pushes my hand away. "I'm fine. I'm fine just -"
"High?" I joke. Sherlock nods and I frown. "Ok well can I just try and bring the swelling down?" I ask. He groans but nods and collapses into an armchair. I grab and ice pack from the freezer and wrap it in a towel before placing it gently to his closed eye.

After a while he tells me that he can't feel anything. "That's good it's gone numb." I reply.
"No I don't feel anything from the ice! It's still throbbing." He grumbles. I remove the towel and place it back again. He flinches and his jaw clenches slightly. "Can you feel it now?" I question, grinning. He nods and I laugh quietly.

"I'm hungry." He mumbles.
"Well get some food then." I shrug.
"Wh - what?" He stutters.
"Get some food. There's stuff in the cupboards." I repeat. When he doesn't move I sigh and get up to go into the kitchen. "NO!" He shouts, tackling me to the floor. I groan in pain and he looks down at me. "Why would you do that?" I hiss.
"You can't go in the kitchen. And sorry." He tells me.
"So you won't get food yourself but I can't go into the kitchen? Sherlock what is going on?" I demand.