I walked up Baker Street. It felt so good to be back at the old haunts! I couldn't wait to see all my old friends again, and get back into my work. But, mostly, I couldn't wait to see Holmes. He was my best friend, and we were inseparable. As I neared 221B, I saw Inspector Lestrade's carriage out front. I was used to the sight; Lestrade often called upon Holmes to help with cases from the Scotland Yard. I chuckled to myself, thinking of Lestrade's reaction to the condition of the house my companion had most likely left it in. I was in for quite a bit of spring cleaning. I opened the front door and stepped into the foyer. "Holmes?'' I called. No answer. He is probably asleep, I thought, It's still generally early for him, and he's a late sleeper. I started up the stairs to the sitting room. I suppose I'll just write down the details so Holmes can look at it later. You can imagine my surprise when I found not just Lestrade, but also Mrs. Hudson and Irene in the room! The girls had red and puffy eyes, a sure sign that something was very wrong.

"Watson, I have some unfortunate news. It's about- -"

"Holmes! Is he hurt?''

''No," Lestrade said. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Worse."

"What happened?" I yelped, alarmed.

"You see," began Lestrade, "your friend was sent on a case about a very dangerous man who had plans that might have ruined London. Holmes stopped this man, but the man got away. We at the Scotland Yard were determined to catch him before he could cause any further damages. I was going to send some of my best men to catch him, but Holmes insisted he be the one to go. I agreed. He promised to send regular telegrams regarding his progress, but it's been two weeks since he left, and we haven't got a single wind of him. This makes him missing... I fear him dead."

He said the last sentence with such certainty that it was almost as if he had known all along. It just couldn't be! I felt my throat swell.

"I- I need to go put away my bag," I stammered. I walked along the hallway, past Holmes' room, and I felt my throat swell more and tears spring to my eyes. As I put my luggage away, I silently wept for my friend. This couldn't be! How could Sherlock Holmes, the greatest detective who ever lived, the very man who survived the plummet from Reichenbach Falls, the most determined man I knew, go so quietly and unnoticed like this? I heard the three talking in the sitting room.

"This is a big shock to him, I don't think he will do it." said Lestrade.

"No, give the doctor a second chance!" Mrs. Hudson defended.

"He will do it, Lestrade," added Irene, "Don't doubt him." I don't think Irene believes Holmes is dead either...

Looking into the mirror to check I appeared unfazed, I went back into the room.

"Watson, I have a- -"

"I heard. What is it you want me to do?"

"I need you to go down to the warehouse where we sent Holmes to recover his bo- - to find him."

"I'll do it."

"You leave tomorrow."

I didn't care what Lestrade thought, I knew that Sherlock Holmes wasn't dead- yet.