Coughing violently, I attempted to sit up as a pain shot through my side. I groaned in pain, bringing my hand up to where I felt the pain. I looked around as the smoke and dust began to clear. "Sherlock?" I called out.

"Chloe, are you okay?" I heard Sherlock's voice echo around the room. I groaned again, lifting myself higher, looking for my boyfriend. I spotted him lying against the fireplace, neck craned searching for me. I caught his eye from where I was, beside the door. I sent him a weak smile before dropping my head back against the side of the couch.

I heard him get up and walk towards me, only opening my eyes when he was right beside me. "Hi," I croaked, trying to shift my weight but the sharp pain spiking any time I moved. Another groan of pain drew Sherlock's attention to where I was holding my side. He cautiously pulled my hand away, showing a quickly forming bruise where I had landed.

"I'm going to move you up onto the couch Chloe, okay?" He asked me, and once he received my nod, he lifted me from the floor onto the sofa. He sat down beside me, letting me lean my head on his shoulder.

"What was that?" I asked, not moving from my position against him.

"I have no idea." Was his response.

"I think this is one of the few times where the great Sherlock Holmes doesn't have all the answers." I laughed, which turned into a groan as my side throbbed once more. Sherlock's head snapped down to look at me, and I stared up sheepishly, trying to disguise my pain.

"Stay here, I'm going to find out what that was." Sherlock began to stand and head to the door.

"No wait, don't go," I plead, not wanting to be alone after what had just happened. Sherlock turned back to look at me and, seeing the tears in my eyes, sat back down and wrapped his arms around me, whispering comforting words until I fell asleep in his arms.

When I awoke, I was no longer in the living room. Looking around, I saw I was in someone's bed. Sherlock's bed I thought, sitting up from the warmth. There was still a dull ache in my side but it was nothing compared to the pain it had been.

I wandered out of the bedroom, smoothing out my slept in clothes and heading towards the sound of voices coming from the living room.

"Good bye John. See you very soon." I heard before a door was closed and I emerged from the corridor into the kitchen. Sherlock began horrendously playing the violin as I reaching the living room, which was still in the state from what I assumed was the previous night.

"Sherlock, please stop, my head is killing me." I announced my presence, effectively shutting Sherlock up and the two men's heads shot towards me. "Let me guess, did your brother pay you a visit?" I asked, receiving a nod from my boyfriend who went to speak, but was cut off by my cousin.

"I didn't know you were here Clo." He stated, still looking confused.

"I came by to see you yesterday," I began, looking over to Sherlock for clarification that it was, in fact, the next day, "But you weren't here and then the explosion went off, and here we are."

"Wait, you were here when the explosion went off." John asked, looking between Sherlock and myself.

"Yeah, I would be surprised if there isn't glass in my hair to prove it." I joked, before my side began to hurt again. I reached towards it, pulling my shirt up slightly to assess the damage, which turned out to be a huge purple bruise. I looked up to see the other two looking at me with shock written on their faces.

The silence was only broken by the sound of Sherlock's phone ringing, finally bringing the attention away from me. He swiftly answered it, "Sherlock Holmes." He stated, before listening to the caller. "How could I refuse?" He smile and hangs up before turning back to us.

"Lestrade," he clarified the identity of the caller, "I am summoned. Coming?" He asked, turning towards John.

"If you want me to." Was my cousins reply.

"Of course! I'm lost without my blogger!" Sherlock smiled at the look on John's face.

"Ahem," I coughed, causing Sherlock to look at me. I raised my eyebrows at him, showing that I wanted in.

"And what would I do without my wonderful girlfriend," He smiled, taking two large strides over to me, stooping down and kissing my cheek, before leading the way out of the door.

We arrived at Scotland Yard after a short taxi ride, and Sherlock led the way through the building to an office, which I assumed belonged to Lestrade. We entered, and without looking up at us, Lestrade began to talk. "You only like the funny cases, don't you? The surprising ones?" He asked, and I almost laughed at how accurate he was.

"Obviously." Sherlock replied.

"You're gonna love this," Lestrade finally looked up, noticing John and I. "Hi," he greeted John, who greeted him back. The detective then turned to me, "I don't believe we have met, Greg Lestrade."

"Chloe Watson, its nice to meet you." I replied, shaking the DI's hand. "John's cousin," I clarified, seeing him trying to work out the relation. Lestrade nodded before turning back to Sherlock.

They began to have a conversation about the explosion, which turned out to have not been caused by a gas leak, but by explosives made to look like gas leak. The house that exploded was left in ruins, except for a strong box, which contained a letter. A letter addressed to Sherlock.

*****

And I am, drum roll please, officially back! Yay, I have finally gotten over my writers block and am back into the swing of things. I also entered this story into the Watty's 2019, woohoo! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments x