Deducing Tragedy Part One: See No Evil

John sat down in his arm-chair. Across from him, the empty leather seat that Sherlock once occupied. John closed his eyes, remembering standing on the street while his best friend stood on the roof of Saint Bart’s hospitable. That was one year ago and the flat still felt empty. When he sat still for too long or Mrs. Hudson was out and the place was completely quiet, John could almost hear him. Usually in these fantasies Sherlock would berate him about moving his microscope or having Molly take away the body parts he’d been experimenting on. But then there would be a noise or Mrs. Hudson would come up to check on him and it would be gone.

One year had passed and John was managing. He still missed his brilliant and moronic flat mate and part of him still felt that there was still some hope. That the body he helped bury wasn’t real or… something. But that part had shrunk and faded away as time went on.

The phone rang, making him jump and dashed for the receiver. “Yes? Hello,” he asked as that part of him flared up again like it always did when the phone rang.

“John,” Molly’s voice shook over the phone. “Are you ok? Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, just a little jumpy. What do you need?” he said trying not to let himself be disappointed yet again. It wasn’t the bloody consulting detective on the other line; it never would be.

“Well,” she hesitated. “My sister is looking for a new flat in London, and since I know you’re looking for a flat mate I was wondering if she could stop by sometime later today?”

She won’t last more than a month; he thought running his free hand through his hair. “Um yeah, sure- I guess. But I don’t know how well it’ll go. People have been running through here like a train station but none of them have worked out.”

He could almost hear the smile in her voice, “trust me John; Hanna will be the perfect fit for you. She should be there soon, let me know how it goes.” He nodded slightly and hung up the phone, feeling bad for a moment when he realized that she couldn’t actually see him nod.

“How are you today dear?” Mrs. Hudson asked, standing in the doorway.

“Fine, I'm fine,” he muttered turning towards the fireplace where that stupid skull still sat.

“Ah, well,” She sighed before turning towards the hall. “There is someone here to see you, do you know a Hanna?”

He raised an eyebrow and turned back towards her. “Molly’s sister, yes. Let her in” she nodded and turned but didn’t move.

She made her way through the door, a girl, no more than twenty-five with long white blond hair. She wore big black sunglasses over her eyes that felt out-of-place on her narrow, elf like face. She wore skinny jeans with brown flat boots that came up to her mid-shin. She had on a grey long sleeve shirt and a thin brown vest with a furry hood. Clutched in her hands was a silver walking stick with a swirly design engraved into the sides of it and a large glass orb stuck to the top.

“You must be Hanna,” he said frowning slightly; something was off about this girl that he could quiet place. “Molly literary just called me about you”

“I know,” she said with a forced smile. “I was waiting outside for her to text me back.”

He let out a hard laugh, “I hope it wasn’t long.”

“Long enough,” she shrugged.

He shifted uncomfortably, “She said you were looking for a flat.”

“My sister tends to miss interrupt things,” she sighed. “I rent a home up north. She thought it would be best if I didn’t live on my own anymore. Something about 'having someone around just in case"'.”

“In case?” he asked.

She paused, tilting her head to the side. “You haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

She paused again, removing her sunglasses and putting them in her pocket. That’s when he realized what had bothered him. Her sunglasses, she wouldn’t need them on such a cloudy day. Her unfocused eyes were the last clue. “You’re blind.”

“As a bat,” she mused. “But don’t think that it’ll be an issue. I only need about an hour in each room to find my way around.”

“Molly sent you here so Mrs. Hudson could take care of you,” he concluded and she shook her head chuckling.

“No, she sent me here so that you could take care of me,” she explained still laughing. “She thinks you need someone to take care of like you took care of Sherlock”

He raised an eyebrow, “You disagree?” He asked, sobering her laughter.

“I know you need someone to take care of,” She shrugged and John frowned. “I don’t need to be cared for.”

He paused a moment, “you don’t?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes; an almost offended tone colored her voice. “People think that because I'm blind I need help, I don’t.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok. If you say so”

“I do,” she snapped and he realized that she didn’t see him raise his hands. “Now, we have to go. Lestrade is expecting us in ten minutes.”

“Lestrade?” he raised an eyebrow. “Expecting us- wha- why?”

“Because I called in a favor,” she said, her voice growing more annoyed. “He owes me. Now, if twenty questions are over, let’s go.” her tone was cold and final as she turned to walk down the hall.

“Whoa, wait,” John called, gathering his jacket before running after the surprisingly spry blind girl. He barely caught up with her, making it out the door just before her cabby drove off. He muttered his apology to the driver before turning to look expectantly at Hanna.

She didn’t say anything but stared blankly ahead. He waited a few more moments waiting for her to say something before he remembered. She’s blind; she doesn’t know that he is staring at her. He turned his head to look out of the window only to hear an angry sigh from Hanna.

“You did it again John,” she said turning to face him.

“Did what?” he asked slightly annoyed.

“You’re treating me different,” she said. “You were angry with me for running out like I did. You waited for me to say something but when you remember I was blind you dropped it. Do not do that.”

“What do you want me to do,” he asked.

“I don’t want you to let me off the hook,” she said simply. “If you are angry with me then say something. If it was Sherlock you would have laid into him-“

“-And he would have ignored me-“

“-the point is!” she spoke over him, “You wouldn’t have let him get away with it without saying something, would you?”

He let out a frustrated breath. “It’s just-“

“What John?” she demanded, “What is it? Just spit it out already!”

“I don’t know how to act around you,” he shouted. “I’ve never met a blind person before, I don’t what to do.”

She shook her head and sighed. “You’ll learn as we go along but for now, just treat me like a normal person until I tell you otherwise.” The rest of the ride was a quiet one. Hanna’s face was turned towards the window. John watched her, her blue eyes staring blankly out at the window as London passed them by. There was something sad in those eyes, something he knew she wasn’t ready to talk to him about.

The cab pulled over and Hanna got out swiftly. John paid the cabby and stepped out to the pavement. Up the road he saw the flashing light and uniforms of the police as they kept the crowd at bay. He started up the road to see what had happened when he noticed Hanna hanging back.

“Are you ok?” he asked walked back towards her.

She shifted uncomfortably. “My glasses,” she started her hand reaching around in her pockets of her vest. “I think I they fell out while we were in the cab.”

“Well you don’t really need them,” he shrugged and she pursed her lips.

“No I don’t need them,” she muttered. “It’s just sort of...” she trailed off shaking her head. “Never mind let's go,” she held out her hand and he raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked looking from her hand to her face.

She smirked slightly. “It’ll go quicker if you guide me. There are people around who could bump me and knock me over. People are much too busy now days to take notice of the little things like the blind girl coming up the pavement.”

He sighed taking her hand, “so why do the blind wear sunglasses?” he asked as they made their way to the flashing lights.

“It because we know that it makes ‘normal’ people feel more comfortable around us,” she said with a shrug. “It helps them figure out we’re blind and covers our eyes which freak some people out.”

“Why do you wear sunglasses?”

“Isn’t that the same question?”

“In your answer you kept saying ‘we’ and ‘us’,” he shrugged. “Sounded rather rehearsed to me, like the answer you give but not necessarily the truth.”

She smiled, “I guess living with Mr. Holmes rubbed off on you.”

“How did you-“

“Molly’s sister, remember?” she chuckled. “But to answer your question: I wear sunglasses… to hide.”

“Hide?” he frowned, “from what?” she didn’t answer and John knew that the conversation was over.

They walked up to the yellow tape and John waved down Lestrade. “John,” the man greeted holding the tape up for them to pass through. “And Hanna,” he said taking her arm to guide her under the tape. “It’s good to see you, how long has it been?”

“Five years and eighty-one days,” Hanna shrugged before stepping back over to John and taking his hand. “But who’s counting?”

“Yeah, right,” Lestrade sighed running a hand through his hair. “Well shall we go inside then?” he asked before leading them into the old building.