[Sherlock]

My hand trembled as I raised the gun and aimed it at the man's head. I tried to keep my hand steady, but even after three years of necessary killing, I still couldn't separate myself from the sentiment John had drilled into me over such a short space of time. The man did not look afraid, and even gave me a grim smile before closing his eyes and accepting his fate. I wasted no more time, and my fingers finally succeeded in pulling the trigger. The cold metal jumped in my hand as the bullet ripped out from the nozzle of the gun and buried itself in the man's head. As he collapsed, my arm fell down to my side and I let go of the gun, both in torment and happiness. I'd just killed another man, but it would be worth it. I would finally be able to go home. Back to Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, Molly... But most importantly, I would be able to return to John. That's what it all came down to. My best, and only, friend. God knows how I'd missed him these last few years. Soon, life would return to normal, and before I knew it we'd be back solving cases again and eating Indian take-away in front of the TV, watching crap shows and laughing. Back to normality.

A sudden jolt shook me out of my thoughts and I opened my eyes to see the car had stopped outside the Diogenes Club. It made sense really that this would be where my brother had chosen our reunion to be. Obviously he had known about my plan that day on the roof of St Bart's, and I could only hope he'd kept his promise in return for my help. It had taken me three long bloody years to destroy what was left of Moriarty's network, so Mycroft had better have taken care of John while I was gone.

One of Mycroft's lackeys chose that moment to open the car door for me, and I only just managed to keep my face blank as I got out and headed into the club. I could feel my heart rate increase as I moved through the rooms to my brother's office, and I couldn't stop the slight bounce in my step as I neared the room. It wasn't so much the fact that I was back in familiar territory that was making my emotions run wild like this, rather that this meeting would finally mean the end of all the hunting and killing I had endured. With Mycroft's permission, well, confirmation, I would be able to return to my life with John. It would all finally have a purpose.

I didn't bother to knock before I strode into the room, my eyes taking in every detail before coming to rest on Mycroft himself. The first thing I noticed was that he had finally lost weight, but he now looked too thin, and the hollowness of his cheekbones made the dark circles under his eyes stand out even more. It was obvious from the way he refused to meet my eyes and how he was nervously twiddling his thumbs that something was wrong. The thing that worried me was that for him to be looking like this, whatever something had gone wrong had been that way for a while now.

I stopped, uncertain of what to do, what his changing demeanour meant for me. It was obviously going to affect me in a bad way, otherwise he wouldn't look so guilty.

My brother chose that moment to finally look up at me, and I could almost feel his gaze as he took in my new appearance. It had been necessary to dye my hair lighter and wear contacts to disguise myself from my enemies, but I wouldn't have to any longer. Hopefully.

"Sherlock." He finally greeted me, and I gave him a nod in return. I was silently hoping he would give me the answers I'd been waiting for without me having to ask him, but it didn't seem like he wanted to.

"I heard the last operation went down smoothly," he began, and his gaze dropped since we both knew he was stalling.

"Enough of your procrastination attempts, brother, just spit it out. Did you keep your promise or not?" I deliberately added bite to my words, and moved myself so that we were barely two feet apart. Half of me didn't want to know what had gone wrong, but I reasoned that I would rather be prepared.

He met my gaze again for a second, and seemed to be about to tell me something important, but backed out quickly, instead going for something else to take my mind off his hesitation. Standing up and walking to the window, he kept his face away from mine when he said a sentence I'd hoped not to hear, at least for a long while yet.

"Mrs Hudson... She was murdered. About three weeks ago."

I stepped back, visibly shocked as I tried to process this new information. Mrs Hudson... She'd been like a mother to me, a replacement one at least. To both me and John, she'd been so sweet and caring, so undeserving of this awful fate. I swallowed hard, so unprepared for this moment that I had to lean against my brother's desk for support.

"Who?" I asked tentatively after a few minutes of silence.

"I don't know." Mycroft replied, but I could tell he was lying. I would ask him about it later, let him keep his secrets for now. I wanted the time to mourn for Mrs Hudson's untimely demise.

"I want to go home. To Baker Street. To John." I looked at him hopefully across the room, and I saw him stiffen at my words. He still hadn't turned around.

"Will that be a problem?" I asked, suddenly so very worried. What if this was why he was so quiet? Had something happened while I was gone? Was John alright? His reply both startled me and had me feeling sick with concern.

"That might be best. There's something we need to discuss, and I'd rather not do it here." He looked at me with a harrowing expression on his face, before sweeping out the room, calling to me as he left to follow in the car I'd arrived in.

I swallowed audibly, and began walking slowly towards the door, so scared that something terrible had happened. What could be worse that the death of Mrs Hudson?

I didn't even want to think about it.

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