I jump at the echoing sound of my fax machine, waking me from my sleep. I turn on my lamp, struggling to find my glasses. I knock over at least 3 half drank glasses of waters as my hands feel around my end table, finally finding them on the ground.
I march over to the fax machine, displeased with the 8:30am fax, hoping it was important. It was.
Reminder for my doctor's appointment at 10:00. I took the paper and immediately shredded it as usual then decided to clean up the mess of water I had made.
10:00 rolled around and I was in the doctor's office, waiting impatiently, but believe it or not, I had made an effort to look presentable which I thought about getting back into now that Sherlock was home.
It hasn't been 24 hours and I'm already itching to call him, but I don't want to seem over eager. Not only that but it seems there are other, more important things to attend to then 'catching up'.
"Enna Burk?" the nurse calls. I stand and walk towards her and she leads me into another room, one with a bed and posters and a skeleton at the corner of the room. "The doctor will be with you in a moment."
I nod and wait as patiently as I was capable of, but I found myself quickly bored. I walked around the room, reading up on various posters that I already knew about and even tempting closer to the scale to weigh myself until Dr. Osborne stepped in.
"Why hello Enna, it's been some time." He tells me, smiling. I nod.
"It has. 4 months?" I confirm. He nods, taking a seat on a stool and looking at my charts.
"How are your eyes treating you?" He asks me, jotting stuff down in the file on his lap.
"Terrible to be honest." I respond. I wasn't going to lie because where would that get me?
"Well, as promised, we have your diagnostics, please take a seat." He tells me and I sit on the bed, my heart pounding anxiously in my chest. "You have, what we call, CRD. Without acronyms, Cone-rod dystrophy." To be honest, I didn't know what exactly it was. "Your vision loss is inevitable, at this rate, I don't give you much longer then one year and you'll be in darkness. I'm sorry, Enna."
I slumped and stared at the ground, my nose stung and my eyes teared up. My voice caught in my throat and I wasn't sure of what exactly to say. I had never had perfect vision, but to know that going completely blind was inevitable?
In one year, I wouldn't be able to do my job.
In one year, I wouldn't be able to get around without assistance, or send a text for that matter.
In one year, I would be completely useless and dependant.
"I'm so sorry you're being faced with this. I'll set you an appointment at 10:00 tonight with a specialist, grab the sheet of paper from the secretary on the way out." He tells me. I sigh heavily and catch my head in my hands, tears coming on harshly as the doctor leaves the room, leaving me in all my despair.
I sucked in the tobacco and nicotine, releasing the chemicals into the air. I was leaning against the side of a cafe' I had just been in while I tried to take my mind off anything but CRD. What was the point anymore? I wish someone would tell me.
"Enna Burk, consulting detective?" I hear from my left. I turn and a man dressed formally in a suit and tie, F.B.I no doubt.
"Yeah." I say, throwing out my cigarette. "Can I help you agent?" He was shocked no doubt.
"So you're as good as they say." He compliments me, but I was in the mood for anything but this. "Let's talk business."
"If you're here to drag me back into the bureau you can forget it." I snap, pushing myself off the wall and sticking my hands into my pocket.
"Ms. Burk, let's take a walk." He disregards my more then clear response and I clear my throat.
"Let's not." I respond, walking past him. "Taxi!" I yell, waving an arm to signal one over. I jump in and without thinking, tell him to take me to 221 Baker Street.
I knock on the door lightly before pushing it open. "Sherlock? John?" I wonder, looking left and right.
"It was quite funny though, to be honest. I'ld be laughing if it were to happen now." I hear John's happy voice from the kitchen and a chuckle from Sherlock.
The apartment wasn't in it's regular gloom and doom atmosphere. It was warm, welcoming. There was a candle light that sent an attractive aroma into the air and a tender light poured from the dining room and kitchen while there was nothing lit in the living room. I was greeted with a happy scene of John and Sherlock cooking and smiling and being, well, happy.
And in that moment, my mind was somewhere else. My mind was in a more hospitable place.
"Enna!" John says excitedly. Sherlock looks up and smiles at me gently. I fake my biggest smile.
"Hi boys, I hope you don't mind me stopping in." I say.
"Of course not! Come join the fun!" John tells me. "Would you like to cook the spaghetti?"
"It would be an honor." I respond, starting at it. It was then that John flicked on the T.V that sat on the dining table. The news was on and Sherlock was plastered all over the screen. It was about his brilliant fake death and how genius he was all along.
"Turn this guy off, honestly, I'm sick of hearing about him." Sherlock says, chopping the vegetables. John smiles and puts on a music channel.
"Where have you been all day?" John wonders curiously. "I've been calling to get you over for dinner." It was then I remembered my phone was left in my apartment on my washroom sink.
"I left it at home," I tell him. "I was working a case." I lie. I hadn't had a case in a few days, but today was a touchy subject that didn't want to be touched.
"A case?" Sherlock wonders. "Have you been working a lot of cases?" I could already see jealousy stamped perfectly clear on his forehead.
"I have. Kept me busy." I respond. He nods simply, looking back down at the vegetables. "They miss you," I tell him. "I was only a substitute for the real thing, you know." He looks up at me nodding a very small nod as the corner of his mouth twisted up into a faint smile.
"I'm sure you have been doing fine." He assures me, cutting a carrot. I shrug.
"I'm no Sherlock Holmes." I reply and I could tell the flattery was about to make him cocky.
"But you are Enna Burk!" John intrudes. "That is was as close to 'The New Sherlock' as they got."
"What do you mean, 'The New Sherlock'?" Sherlock asks, stopping with the knife all together.
"While you were gone," I begin. "there was a lot of...hype." I put it nicely. "The media demanded a 'New Sherlock'. John was paid a lot of money to write about me and label it, 'The New Sherlock'." I tell him. I could almost see his face beginning to turn red with anger. "But he labeled it 'The New Unpertaining, Controversal Sherlock'."
"You chose words that I described you as." Sherlock says, shocked at the very least. I grin and look down at the spaghetti I was cooking, trying to wipe it off my lips. "Does that mean I'm right?" He asks me. I laugh slightly and shake my head, the grin was now a small smile and I was very truly happy.
We ate the well cooked dinner in anything but silence. John was the happiest I have seen in years as he talked on about anything and everything to Sherlock. I could tell he was straining to listen and agree and sometimes give his opinion. Sherlock wasn't a naturally a social person so it was hard.
I think he almost wanted the silence that came towards the end of dinner, I was quick to ruin that though.
"So, do we get an explanation?" I wonder, seriously. He looks up from his surprisingly empty plate and then glances at John who was staring at him intensely. He wanted the story as much as me, not possibly more. Sherlock clears his throat and wipes his face with a napkin before facing us again.
"Moriarty had men with perfect aim on you both. If I didn't jump he would have shot you both. Molly told me how to jump so that I wouldn't actually kill myself and just, injure myself." He tells us.
"I took your pulse." John interrupts him. "You didn't have one."
"John, I did." Sherlock says. "You were so disorientated from being hit by the bike you wouldn't have noticed to be frank." I watch him now, more intently as John stays quiet. I wait for a second but it seems as though he wasn't going to continue.
"So why?" I ask. "Why didn't you tell us? Why wait until now?" He looks in deep thought before looking at me once again.
"It's complicated." He says. I don't know if it hurt hearing this, or if it confused me. I think it was more anger then anything because I just stared at him, displeased...but John's anger took it's tool and from down the table I could almost hear the snap.
"It's complicated?" He asks. "No, Sherlock it isn't." He was standing now. "Do you know what was complicated? Enna's drinking problem and her smoking addiction. That was complicated. Not why you couldn't have taken a little weight off of our shoulders and came bloody clean!" I shuddered, closing my eyes at his loud and cracking voice. "My loneliness was complicated, Sherlock! How very alone I was...that was complicated. Not this, not why you watched us, two people who truly care about you, tear our lives apart because we believed you were dead. You made us believe that." I looked up and he looked gobsmacked. At least until he composed himself and his guilty conscious washed him down.
"It wasn't easy for me either." He states. "The fall broke 4 ribs and my nose. I had to attend to my own injuries and lay still for 2 months while carriers would deliver food in secrecy. It then took another month to bring down Moriarty's network so that you would be safe, and I could come back."
I look to John and tears were rolling down his cheek. I reached my hand to his upper back and patted it.
"I was protecting you." He says.
"I didn't think I would see you again, Sherlock." John mutters before wiping his cheeks and sitting back down next to me.
"You did." He says simply. John nods and gives a weak smile before there's a knock on the door. I stand before Sherlock can.
"I'll get it." I say and walk to the door. I turn the doorknob and Greg is standing there, blood shut eyes and wet cheeks.
"Is it true?" He asks me, shaky voiced. I step aside and motion him in. He walks past me and stops in sight of the dining table, assuming he saw Sherlock because all he did was stare. "You bloody genius!" He says, walking swiftly for him. I close the door and go to see the happy scene of Lestrade smothering Sherlock in a hug and Sherlock trying to return it.
John laughed comically and I smiled, watching as Lestrade let go of him.
"When you want a case, you let me know!" Lestrade says. "I've got quite a few." Something went off in Sherlock's eyes, excitement.
"He will." John assures Lestrade as the door bell goes again. I walk back and open the door to Anderson and Sally Donovan.
"The freak's alive?" Sally asks me and she had definitely been crying.
On top of that it seems her and Anderson had an adult sleepover if you know what I mean. I nod and step aside, letting herself and Anderson in. I follow and watch as they catch Sherlock's figure.
"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away." Sherlock's cocky voice says and I roll my eyes, laughing a little. I'm about to close the door again I hear someone else.
"Hello Enna." Molly is standing in the doorway.
"He's in here, but I'm sure you already knew that." I say to her. She looks at her feet.
"I didn't." She responds. "I wasn't sure if he survived the fall." She looks up at me and smiles, tears like tsunami waves stream down her cheeks. "I'm so glad he's OK." I step aside and she walks in.
I close the door and walk into a heart warming scene of Molly's arms wrapped around Sherlock and I could tell she was crying.
"I'm so glad you're OK." Molly tells him threw sobs and finally lets go, wiping her eyes. He smiled and nodded.
"I'm glad I had you, Molly." He tells her.
That hit me.
He had Molly in his time of need.
He had John to hold on and let go of him.
Mrs. Hudson was supporting him in every way she could, of course she had no idea what was going on, but she was there.
And where was I?
I was sulking and drowning myself in self pity. I was brooding and relaxing and taking long baths and trips down the canal's in Venice.
Sherlock was facing a mad man with the help of everyone but me.
I chewed my lip and looked away, guilt filled me to the brim but I had to push that aside for now.
"Enna, come join us." Sally tells me, motioning me into the group. I was about to step in when the appointment came to me. I looked at the clock which read 9:00. I sighed and looked back to her when I realized the whole group was waiting.
"I would, I really would, but I have an appointment." I tell her, or rather them. Everyone seemed to have dropped their own conversation to join ours.
"For what?" Lestrade wonders curiously. Well, this was one way of letting everyone know my diagnostics.
"It's for my eyes." I say straight faced. "I was diagnosed with Cone-Rod Dystrophy today." I say. "I'm expected to go blind in about a year." Everyone was quiet. I guess they couldn't process it or believe it or maybe it was just so shocking that they were speechless. I was staring at my feet before I looked up for an instance and then turned, my eyes began to water.
I left without another word and I wish had said something. Anything. It was such a downer and I had ruined the welcome wagon for Sherlock. I looked around as a Taxi rolled into sight. I threw my arm up, trying to wave it over, but it missed me. I sighed heavily, trying to signal another before,
"Enna!" Sherlock was calling out to me. I turned and did my biggest and most fake smile.
"Hey Sherlock," I respond, trying to maintain the smile. "what are you doing out here?" I wonder and see he wasn't even wearing a coat or his signature scarf. "You'll catch a cold."
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks obviously upset.
"I didn't want to think about it, and when I got there, you and John were so happy. Was I supposed to interrupt that and say, 'Hey guys! I'm going to be blind in a years time!'?" I respond. "I just to didn't want to think about it, I'm sorry." I apologize.
"I'm coming to the appointment with you." he tells me.
"Sherlock, everybody was there to see you."
"They saw me. I'm going." He says and I knew there was no point in fighting. He walks past me and hails a taxi with ease, opening the door for me and I sit inside.
I opened my apartment door and flicked on the rarely used light. My apartment wasn't that messy considering I was rarely ever there. It wasn't spotless with that said. I had papers and case files all over the place along with half drank glasses of water. My bed was made and it was a bearable mess.
"Your apartment is nice." Sherlock tells me. He had insisted on coming home with me after the appointment to see the apartment.
"Thank you. I wanted something with a view." I tell him and he walks to window. I watch him glance out it and see the city lights that I overlooked.
"It's quite a view." He responds, staring. I walk to my kitchen, putting my glasses in the sink to make it look a little more clean.
"That's why I chose it." I tell him and watch him walk towards me. I start organizing my papers that were spread across my 'bar' and Sherlock watched me.
"Are you OK?" He wonders finally, breaking a silence between us. I look up at him and shrug.
"I don't know." I say. "It doesn't feel real." He was stuck obviously, not knowing what to say that would show that he felt sorry for me. I didn't want his empathy to be honest with you. I just wanted to sit on the couch and read a book. I wanted to be alone but I didn't want to be lonely. To be completely honest with you I wasn't sure what I wanted.
As for what I didn't want, I didn't want to go blind.
"I can't imagine." Sherlock says simply. "I can't." Our eyes locked for a minute and by surprise, his face started to come closer to mine.
Like magnets, our faces came continuously closer until it happened. Our lips touched. It was soft until it grew deeper and stronger, harder and faster. He grabbed my face and I hoisted myself over the bar and so we were on the same side. He had to bend down in order to kiss me, but it was nice. It wasn't an awkward first kiss that you have on a first date. It was a strangely familiar and weak in the knee's kinda kiss.
I was melting in his arms until his strong arms hoisted me onto the bar so he wouldn't have to lean down so much. I snaked my arms around his neck, and it was truly perfect.
"You don't need your eyes for this."