"Are you alright?" A short stubborn man asked me. He was actually quite good looking when I think about it, but at the time I was a little shocked from what had just happened.

"Y-y-yes!" I stuttered.

"Your arm is bleeding. Come next door and I'll clean you up. I am a doctor."

"Sorry, who are you?" I asked to make sure this guy wasn't going to rape me or something.
"John Watson. Please come, you need to get your arm sorted." He almost demanded but with a warm smile. I gave him a small nod and he led me across the street the rather small house numbered 221B on Baker Street.

We entered the house and he led me up a staircase into his flat. If I remember correctly the flat was actually quite tidy, if you ignored the bullet holes in the wall and the field of books on the floor.

"So, what's your name?" John asked me whilst leading me into the kitchen to the sink.

"Chloe. Nice flat," I answered, a little preoccupied in thought over why there were gun shots in the wall, "but why do you have gun shots in your wall?"

"The man I share this flat with is a little mad," he laughed and sat me down on a chair, "now who was the man that attacked you?"

"I-I don't know. It's not like I have anything for him to steal." I answered, trying to picture the man's face.

"He wasn't trying to steal anything," A deep voice answered from the bedroom to side. A tall, dark handsome man strode out into the living room and looked observed us in the kitchen.

"Sherlock–" John tried to interfere but Sherlock was already explaining his deduction.

"He didn't want something from you, he grabbed you. But he wasn't stalking you, he came from the opposite direction which suggests that he knew you were going to go that way."
"So he's been stalking her for a while?" John suggested but in reply Sherlock strode towards the window in the living room and peered out.

"He's across the street staring at his watch. Now he's staring right at me. How often do you walk along this street?"

"Whenever it's raining," I answered. Sherlock turned to look at me for a few moments then turned away and said nothing.

A silence rung in the flat so John put a wet cloth against my arm and pulled out a bandage from a small medical kit he kept in one of the cupboards.

"Hold this on until it stops bleeding." John ordered softly and smiled at me. I liked his smiles, they were warm and lifting. They genuinely made the darkness in my mind fade away.

"Thank you," I said and smiled back.

"How far away do you live?" John asked but I diverted my eyes away. There was a silence between us for a few moments until Sherlock broke it.

"She's homeless, John. She ran away from home and is now being stalked by a man who can also see this and is going to use it against her."

John looked at Sherlock and held is gaze for a matter of seconds then looked down at me.

"Stay the night. You can sleep on the sofa if you like, I'd offer you my bed but Sherlock burnt my mattress in an experiment of his." John offered whilst wrapping the bandage around my arm.

That was the night where it all started. I'd love to experience that night all over again, but that will never happen, will it? Sherlock, John and the mysterious ticking noise.

The beginning and the end.

TO BE CONTINUED