We wake in the night, to stereophonic silence

So I doubt any of you don't know what happened today. Yesterday.

The house got broken into. We can only presume it happened because every other day the place would be empty then. John would have been on the school run, usually with the dogs, to walk them. Security stick with the boys. I'm at work.

But yesterday a perfect storm of music lessons, new security and John desperately needing some peace and quiet and sleep meant he was there.



He's...okay. Looks like he's had a nasty brawl. And that's before you know there are stitches and glue lines in his head. He didn't want to stay in hospital. I understand that, and I haven't been through half of what he has in them. In his head...I can't say. I hope he's okay. Being attacked in your own home is...anyway, time will tell.

Right now he's asleep - a mix of fatigue, head injury and painkillers, I imagine. Sherlock's in the bed, too. He and Mycroft were in the bedroom, being very grown up and sensible about sharing. We were on the sofa bed. I brought Sherlock in a few hours after he went to bed, all small and sad and having bad dreams about John being hurt. So he clambered in to give John a cuddle. He's about a million degrees and flopping about like a beached fish.

After about the third kick and Sherlock taking all the covers I gave up and got up. Been sat here ever since. Can't sleep anyway. Was only staying in bed to make sure John was okay. Can do that from here. He seems peaceful enough.

So. John attacked, house broken into, boys upset, total disruption and chaos, god knows what psychological damage.

What would you do if there was someone who brought all that into your life?

Mrs Holmes made it pretty clear that if any of her employees had put everyone at risk they'd never have been heard from again.

As it's me, I get special dispensation. Risk assessment, I said last night. Me being the risk. Mrs Holmes being the assessor.

So, to those of you who asked, yes, we know why the house was targeted, yes, we know who/what they were after. Yes, we probably should have expected it.

Yes, it was entirely to do with the Op I'm running at the moment. The same people who've been sending the death threats. And John should never, ever, have been in danger.

I shouldn't have been so complacent. I discussed with Anthea the potential risk to the boys. I didn't even bloody think about the chance that none of the security would be around.

No, I haven't discussed this with John yet. He didn't seem up to it. I mean, he knows about the op, I talked to him about that. He knew there was a slight risk. He just doesn't know that's who it was, yet.

I just...I don't know what to do. I do know the boys have the best security in the world. I know I'll be a lot more paranoid about John's safety. And I know he managed to defend himself - he's not some bloody delicate flower. But...Christ, I think I aged about ten years when John called. Spent the ride over there trying not to imagine the worse or throw up.

I feel like I should just stay away from them all, until it's cleared up, but I'm fairly sure that no one would actually want me to. Doesn't seem like there's any way to keep anyone even vaguely happy.

You can't know how much I want to walk out of here right now into the night and not come back until after the trial, if it gets that far. But I know that's a cowardly way out. And what I leave behind won't be the safe, idyllic world I'm trying so hard to imagine. John, Mycroft and Sherlock deserve so much bloody more than me.

Christ, it's a mess.