Ok, Slave!lock. If that triggers you, please don't read. There will be nothing explicit. Maybe blood-and-guts but no smut. Sorry. I will only up-date on weekends, and then maybe every other weekend. Most likely. I'm sorry this Chap's so short-will get longer! If you read this on my Tumblr- A few things have changed.

Sherlock pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on them, his arms tied behind his back with a leather strap then bound to a pole at the end of an aisle. he had rags around his body that he supposed passed for clothes and black curly hair that was just a bit to long. He had scraped and bruises covering his entire body and his 'clothes' had bits of dry blood in several places.

It was a blueish day, like most now. The clouds almost completely covered the sky, thin enough to cast blueish light but thick enough to let no true sky or sun through. I was mostly smog.

The slave market had dirt floors that was warren for many, many people walking everyday around the aisle that covered the acres. Sherlock was near the front, tied to the end of am aisle as if to say 'hey! if you didn't like anything you saw here you probably wont like this one but we might as well try!' Cages and tied up people lined the walkways as well-dressed men in fancy shoes walked around, examining them. It was strange, The people dressed well, some in black suit and ties and some in earlier fashions, with a vest like over and a white button up but the shoes never changed, black and straightforward, all business.

this is how the wealthier side dressed: nicely, while the other half-dressed naturally, in Sherlock's mind. T-shirt, jeans, hoody, it seemed to fit with the paved roads and the busy bussel of everyday life. He put his head face down but kept his eyes slightly open. He watched the nice shoes walk by but never stop. he was never going to get sold, he thought to himself, but he cough himself. Why would he want to be? Sure, there was a lack of food and medical attention but other than that, no beatings.

He faced completely sunk into his knees and he closed his eyes…yes, he could stay here.

—

"Greg!" John wined and his friend dragged him into the market. "I can't by one,I don't have enough money! You know that!" He argued as thy finely came to a stop right inside the lot that semi-reminded John of a Christmas tree lot.

Greg snorted and handed John some money. "Listen when you actually show up for work, you'll get a pay check, when you get a pay check you can pay me back, got it?" John started to protest but Greg continued before he could, "Your flats a mess, your always late, if your there at all, you barely eat and you could use some company. Go."

John started to protest but Greg left without another word, waving and disappearing into the crowds walking by on the sidewalks. John spun around on heal and looked around the lot. He stood out like a sore thumb, so, deciding to get it over with, he walk a random way.

Thirty mines in he was ready to leave, everything he saw here was so much out of his price range it wasn't funny. He was about to leave when a man approached him, a worker asking if he needed help. John told him his price dilemma and the man, Anderson, he had told him showed him a few he could afford, but either they where old or sick and on their way out, again no use for what he needed, but he found he hated this, caged and tied up people, it was sick.

another 30 minuets and they where both going to give up, and they where heading to the front. John was about to thank the man, even if he had been rude to most of the people they had seen and John had grown to dislike the man, when he saw a boy who caught his eye. "Wait," John stopped the man mid-sentence.

Anderson saw his line of view and they walked toward the boy. "you won't want this freak." Anderson said. The boy winced slightly at the voice and looked up at the two standing slightly to his left, and John had to actively think about not gaping at the boys eyes what where a bright blue in contrast to the grayish world that surrounded. "But, if your interested I can get you the paper work, he was on his way out, We've scene his face around here a few to many times, ya'know? I'll give him to you, half off?"

He walked off with out a word and the boy studied the blond in front of him, he stuck out, middle class, not rich but not really poor either, it was strange to see someone like that here. The man stared at the boy in return, he was covered in grime and wounds, needed a few stitches, nothing he coudln't fix, him being a doctor. He was normal, a little more broken and bruised than most, but normal. "Hello." He said, he wasn't sure is he was mocking, he didn't want to but he didn't know what to say to the boy or if he could even speak back.

Anderson returned before John could say anymore. "They where right on top, wasn't going to stay here longer. He's about 32, I think, several owners, even factories but all brought him back within weeks. His last owner, Moriarty, had him the longest, a few months. He was cruel, that one." And he had been, the boy had been returned beaten bloody and even Anderson didn't like that, even if he practically hated the boy in front of him. But it was probably, he hadn't spoken a word scene he was returned, the closest being a whimper and had not tried to escape which, for this one, was extremely odd. Anderson wondered what had happened. "He's been here roughly a month-"

John stopped him, "Wait," he started, "Did you just say a month?" Anderson nodded, "Any medical treatment scene then?" To the Anderson shook his head. "Alright." John sighed. A month. That was a long time to have had those cuts. He knew they weren't fresh but he didn't think they'd been that long, open in this horrible place. "Alright where do I sign?"

Anderson was surprised at the abrupt decision but pointed and took the money, going back to the front. Soon people shoved The boy into a cage none-to-gently then carried him to a cab they had called for him. John winced at every bump they hit on the way to his flat. The ride was long and silent, every time he looked back those blue eyes where watching him.

When they stopped he told the taxi driver to wait a second. He decided he, quiet frankly, hated that cage. He lifted it and lower it to the ground wincing that he could do it as easily as he could. The boy must weigh nothing. He kneeled down and opened the cage, extending his hand but the boy shrunk back. "I won't hurt you," John said in a warm tone.

The boy didn't believe him at all, and they both knew it, but his new master wanted him out, so he came out, completely ignoring the hand. John sighed and put the cage back in the trunk and told the cabbie to drop it off at the market of he passed there and payed him extra.

He looked back at the boy and smiled. The boy, realizing he had been staring put his head down and looked at the side-walk. "Come on," John said nicely and let the boy go up the stairs first.

This was going to be interesting.

..