I was so close to Baker Street.
So.
Close.
My head was pounding, my hands were bleeding, and of course I got a stitch in my side.
Only one thought kept me going.
Sherlock, Baker Street, safety, was so so close.

I couldn't hardly breathe as I reached the familiar onyx door that lead to my safety. I reached up with one hand and rang the doorbell with one long buzz. 

I hear Mrs. Hudson's gentle footsteps patter over to the door. The door opens as I drop to my knees panting and holding my side.

Mrs. Hudson takes one look at my bloody hands and shirt and screams bloody murder.

In ten seconds Sherlock was at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Bloody Hell! Keyland what happened." He exclaims. 

I motion to him for my puffer. His eyes widen as he sees the blood dripping down my hands, and on my shirt from where i was holding my side. In one smooth motion, Sherlock picks me up like a baby. He bounds up the stairs and kicks the door open to the Kitchen.

John startled as Sherlock and I came into view. He takes a sip of his tea, his eyes smiling at Sherlock knowingly. Rosie's intelligent blue eyes beheld her uncle and I in the doorway. I am still panting, out of breath. Sherlock drops my legs and, still holding me in one hand, he swipes the table clear, causing a pile of dishes -John's saucer included- to be dropped onto the floor. He then sets me on the table in front of John. 

I continue to pant and gesture for my puffer.

"What the hell happened?!" John worries, checking out my hands.

"It's her side too." Sherlock replies gesturing to my shirt. John's eyes widen and he tries to lift my shirt.

I use my elbow to move his hand away.

"John! It's just my hands." I huff.

"But you sound like you are dying." Sherlock argues.

"My puffer!" I exclaim.

"Oh! Right. She has asthma." Sherlock exclaims as he moves to go fetch my puffer. 

He bumps right into Liem, who hands him the puffer with a glare. Sherlock returns the glare before whipping around and handing my puffer which I take gratefully. 

I take my puffer and after a few minutes I begin to breathe easier. 

John, Sherlock, and Liem watched me closely. 

"I'm alright." I announced.

The boys let out a collective sigh and Rosie babbled happily behind me.

"Great, now on to your hands." John said matter-o-factly. 

He supplied both Sherlock and Liem with tweezers and they all sat on the kitchen chairs around me pulling out pieces of glass. I let out a shuddering breath. Liem looked up at me concernedly.

"Hey Kiwi." He smiles.

"Hey." I reply. 

"He found you didn't he?" He asks seriously. 

"Who found her?" John asked.

"Moriarty." Sherlock seethed.

"Again?!" John blurted, earning a glare from Sherlock. 

We sat in silence as the boys finally collected the last of the broken glass from my palms.

John gathered up the pieces and swept them into the garbage.

"Now Keyland this may sting a little." John says as he soaks some cotton in rubbing alcohol. 

"And by that he means a lot." Liem smirked. I elbowed him in the side.

"You should probably go lay down Liem," Sherlock remarked bitterly from where he stood looking out the kitchen window. "If you stay upright for much longer your stitches may tear. You are already bleeding heavily."

Liem shot Sherlock another glare. "I'm fine." He grumbled, not leaving my side.

"Like hell you are Liem! Go lay down now I'll be okay." I say authoritatively. 

"Yes ma'am." Liem sasses with a smirk, and heads downstairs again. 

Sherlock walks over to me and sits down in the chair that Liem had just vacated. John stands over me watching what happened. He shoots Sherlock a look.

"I think that Sherlock can take it from here." He says picking up Rosie. "Just disinfect her hands and then bandage them okay?"

"Alright." Sherlock agrees. 

John leaves the room and I cannot bear to meet Sherlock's storm colored eyes. 

He takes the disinfectant and gently wipes my hands. I hiss in pain, he stops for a second then continues. He silently finishes his job, then gently takes some bandages and turns me to face him. He focuses intently on his task, wrapping my hands properly. 

As he finishes he tries to catch my eye.

"Keyland." He says softly. 

"What?" I snap.

"I think we need to talk." He replies. 

"Not now Sherlock." I respond. 

...

"I know I hurt you when I didn't trust you." He announces. 

"No kidding, you know for a genius you can be remarkably stupid." I say getting off the table.

"Keyland wait!" Sherlock exclaims, grabbing my arm. 

I meet his eyes with a disgusted face.

...

Sherlock thought for a moment his eyes suddenly lighting up. 

"Come." He says dragging me. 

I looked at him unamused.

"Come on Keyland."

I sighed heavily and let him lead me over into the living room. 

"I'm sorry. You know I'm no good with words, so I'm an insensitive arse and..." Sherlock starts. 

"And?" I say impatiently. 

"May I have this dance?"

I quirk an eyebrow at him.