Deducing Tragedy Part One: See No Evil

To be honest, when I left Baker Street I felt more fear than anything. Fear of The Monster's anger if and when he found out I was alive. Fear of the hurt I would be inflicting on my friends and family. But mostly I feared how absolutely alone I would be while I was gone. Once Mycroft put me on that plane I felt it. The silence that surround me, that agonizing silence eating away at my resolve. I couldn't do this; I was crazy to ever think I could.

But I had to; at least that's what I told myself as the plane took off. Once I was in the air it was easier, there was no going back. And when I landed I felt the weight of The Monster's torment fall off of me. He couldn't hurt me here, I was free.

But I really wasn’t. I would never be free of him. That’s what I finally understood when I realized that my Knight was my Monster. The thing people don’t understand about abusers, whether they be male or female, old or young, is that they don’t hurt in the beginning. In the beginning it is sweet, innocent and intense. When I first met Tomas I couldn’t imagine him hurting a fly.

I liked to believe in soulmates. People who completed each other. I found that in Tomas- at least I thought I had. I remember when his eyes first met with mine and… something clicked. He wasn’t just another guy at a club; there was something more to him than that.

When he spoke it was soft, when he touched it was like I was made of glass and he was afraid to break me. He challenged me mentally and excited me physically. With those blue eyes that almost seemed to see into my very soul. I liked that about him.

His other side didn’t come out until a few months later. We’d moved in together and I was doing the laundry. He came in and saw me folding a load and… there was a look in his eyes. I knew he wasn’t happy about something and for the first time around him… I was afraid. It was just a flicker of fear and then he walked out and turned on the game. I looked down at the half folded basket of towels and just stood there for a few minutes. I didn’t know what to do, what had upset him or why. I just didn’t know.

I guess that’s when I started to sink. Before that moment I was treading peacefully. When I met Tomas the cord was tied around my ankle and in that moment, in the laundry room of our new flat, the weight was dropped.

I suppose this ending was rather poetic. To physically drown after being emotionally dead for years. I wondered what Tomas would think when he found out about my real death. Because he would find out, he always found out.

I wanted to be mad at Sherlock, but it wasn’t his fault. He was just a man, close and at hand, which I imprinted the memory of Tomas onto. A substitute to a daydream now so far away. I wanted to say that what I felt before I left Baker Street was as real, that I did care for him. But now I just wasn’t sure, did I care for Sherlock, or the ghost I pushed onto him?

It would be easier to separate the two if I could see Sherlock. Right now when I thought of him all I saw was Tomas with curly hair. What I knew of Sherlock’s appearance was based solely on the descriptions my sister gave and she wasn’t that observant. Sherlock, while he let me come close, would never actually let me touch him; not since the day he made his promise. Skin to skin contact was almost prohibited.

If he had only let me see him, I thought as the water wrapped around me like a cool blanket. Maybe- just maybe.

There was a tug on my arm, someone was pulling my body to their. I turned my head to look up, the white light of the moon shining down into the water, illuminating the sea world around me. It was beautiful, watching the moon beams pierce the water. As I blinked the scene became clearer until I realized… I could see! I was seeing the water around me!

I was pulled into the body of the man who was saving me and carried to the surface of the lake. He pulled me onto the shore line and set me in the sand as I coughed up a bit of water. I opened my eyes and looked out across the lake. The trees were tall, dark shadows cast in sliver silhouettes. The night was clear and beautiful, the moon full and the stars scattered beautifully across the dark sky.

“Hanna, are you ok,” he asked me and I turned to grin at him. My eyes locking with his blue ones as I beamed.

“I-I can see,” I said with an almost hysterical giggle.

“What?”

“I can see,” I said again, louder this time. “I can see you, Ben!”

“Hanna…” another voice caught my attention and I paused. “You can see?”

I slowly let out a breath; my eyes still locked on Ben’s who was glancing between me and the man I’d never seen before. His eyes asked the question and I honestly couldn’t answer. Was this man a danger to me?

I stood up, my cloths, wet and covered in dirt, clung to my body in an uncomfortable way and I took a moment to adjust them. Then I turned around and, for the first time, my eyes met the sliver ones of a man I’d never seen before.

And… something clicked.