Chapter 9 - Feel

"So, once I've left the army for good, I tried finding another job. And I eventually succeeded. They offered me to work in the court as a protocol writer. It was well paid and I didn't have any difficulty with following what was being said in court and writing all of that down.", Katrina started, thinking back to the time before she met Sherlock. Again, she heard her therapist writing.

"But it wasn't where I met Sherlock. I got lucky and Detective Inspector Lestrade discovered me in court, asking my manager if I could also write protocols during investigations. I didn't hesitate and my manager as well was all for me having even more opportunities to prove my talents."

"So you met him during one of the investigations?", she asked. Katrina reached down her hand to Ciri, stroking her behind her ears, smiling.

"Yes."

β€”-

Katrina did her best to write down all things being said at the crime scene. It was still her first month, but they had involved her already in multiple cases. Lestrade was a really nice colleague, often asking her if she needed any help or if she understood all the terms they were using during the investigation. He soon realised that she didn't need his help way too much and let her do her job. He often invited her, together with Sally Donovan, to have dinner after work. She liked it. She also loved the fact that her parents grew so fond of Tara, that she could rely on them taking care of her even in the evenings, allowing her also to work at night or partake in dinner with her colleagues. She was proud of working for Scotland Yard, even though Lestrade so often seemed to be clueless about some cases.

And then there was this particular day, when he was especially clueless. He demanded the help of some man called Sherlock Holmes, who somehow didn't work for Scotland Yard but still helped them. Katrina didn't really understand all the fuss that was made, especially by Sally, who left the crime scene, walking downstairs, murmuring something about "Freak". But she realised that Greg needed help with this dead lady in pink laying on the floor.

It was only a few minutes later that she heard Sally yelling from outside: "The freak is here!"

"Greg, who is the freak?", Katrina asked her colleague, looking at him. He looked towards her direction, into her foggy blue eyes, who were askingly looking at him. The artificial light of the crime scene let them seem even foggier, a chill was running down his spine.

"He… his name is Sherlock Holmes. He is a genius when it comes to solving crimes. He is, as he calls himself, a consulting detective.", he answered in a low voice, so only the two of them could hear it. Katrina nodded for an answer, as she heard fast steps coming towards them, up the stairs where they were waiting.

"Who is this?", Lestrade asked.

"He is with me.", a deep husky voice answered.

"But who is he?"

"I said he is with me.", the deep voice answered in annoyance.

Katrina was sure that no one had noticed her yet. She was sitting in some corner on a small chair, writing down everything that was worthy to be written down.

"Oh! But who is she?", the deep voice suddenly asked, seeming to be surprised. The sound came towards her direction.

"She? That's my new colleague, Katrina. She is writing the protocol of our crime scenes.", Lestrade answered. Steps came closer. But not just of one pair of feet, but of two.

"P- Private Brown?", a familiar voice suddenly filled the room. Katrina's heart jumped in excitement. She had to hold back a shriek, but took a sharp breath.

"Sir!", she yelled, placing aside her notebook, jumping off the chair, raising her hand to her forehead to greet John Watson, who apparently stood directly in front of her. She burst out laughing, being sincerely happy about the person who stood in front of her.

"That can't be true. Oh Lord!", he murmured.

"Sir, I am so glad to see you! Well, if you can speak about seeing.", she laughed.

"Please, don't call me "Sir" anymore. I presume we are both not a part of the army anymore. Please, call me John."

"Can- can I hug you, John?", she asked, holding back some happy tears that got into her eyes. He didn't answer, he just hugged her. They both closed their eyes, smiling, until John took her by the shoulders, holding her in front of her, looking at her face.

"My God, look at you! Your eyes healed so well!", he exclaimed. He was referring to her eyes, which were now foggy, not bloody anymore.

"Yes! And look at me, I am here, working for Scotland Yard. I've learned Braille! And I am doing so well!", she smiled back at him.

"John, are you going to tell me that this young lady here was in Afghanistan with you?", the deep voice asked. He still hadn't introduced himself.
"Sherlock, that's Katrina Brown. Katrina, that's Sherlock Holmes, my roommate and colleague.", John introduced the man next to him.

"Pleased to meet you, Sherlock Holmes.", Katrina said to the man in front of her, nodding and smiling.

"Torture.", he mumbled.

"What?"

"You didn't lose your eyesight during an accident or an attack. Otherwise your face would show scars or burns. There is no such in your face, only your blind eyes. And since you were in Afghanistan, together with John, I presume that they wouldn't have brought you there if you already had been blind. So someone wanted you to become blind by torture.", he almost whispered, which sent a shiver over her spine. How did he even know that?

"Mr. Holmes, you are right.", she answered, nodding at him. She felt his glance on her for some while, until he asked her again.

"Have you ever tried to deduce the cause of a murder?", he asked.

"What?"

"Take on these gloves and follow me."

"But who will write then?", Lestrade complained.

"I am sure you are perfectly capable of doing that yourself.", Sherlock barked at the detective inspector, guiding Katrina to the corpse, telling her where to kneel down and what to do.

"Tell me, what can you feel? What can you sense with your nose?", he asked her quietly.

"Sir, I am blind!"

"Don't "Sir" me. I am Sherlock. I will call you Katrina. And I am not talking about seeing, I am talking about sensing. You have gloves over your hands and a perfectly working nose. So, tell me what you can sense!", he answered. Katrina nodded, but was nervous. Why would he think that she could do something like that? And as if he had read her mind, he

answered: "Blind people tend to have a much better sense of smell and taste and can feel better with their hands. Since I've heard that you can already read Braille, I presume you will be able to find small details on this body in front of you."

Katrina sighed softly, leaning towards the body, her hands shaking.

"Sherlock, don't cause any trauma to her!", she heard John saying in the back.

"She can do that.", he answered, watching her carefully.

As her hand reached down, her breath shaking, Sherlock talked to her: "You can do that, don't be nervous."

She startled, when her hand touched the body. She brushed her fingers over the woman, over her clothes, her hair, her fingers.

β€”-

"So you not only met Sherlock Holmes on this day, you encountered an ability in you, that you haven't known of?", the therapist asked, taking her out of her memory.

"Yes. I was able to feel every scar, every scratch on the lady's ring, every piece of moisture and dirt on her shoes.", she answered, looking at her.

"And how did Sherlock Holmes react to that?"

β€”-

"I would like you to join me in my cases. I don't think that would be a problem, since you'll be here with Lestrade anyways. I could use your expertise and your second opinion. Katrina, would you agree to do so?", Sherlock asked, looking at her. Katrina glanced back at Lestrade, worried about what he would think.

"You know, that I would never keep you from what makes you happy. Come on, I think you will be a perfect addition to this guy!", he laughed, as if he had read her mind. She smiled back and then glanced towards Sherlock. She nodded.

"Wonderful!", he almost yelled in excitement, standing up.

"John, grab your things, we are all together going out for dinner. We might want to discuss the next steps!", he almost sang, bringing a big smile on Katrina's face. What an exciting turn of faith.