A sickly sweet smell assaulted Daniella's nose and her head throbbed like a sledgehammer. Her body was sprawled on a rough thrift-shop rug, a rug that immediately reminded her of Jamison's apartment.

Wait. This is Jamison's apartment. The confused teenager thought to herself.

The only thing that was peculiar about this situation was that she was sprawled on the floor, normally she awoke in a bed. So why was she on the floor?

"You stupid whore! You think that you're some 'special catch'! You are nothing but a petty result of an abused genius and a lonely solider, nothing really award worthy now is it?" Jamison spat venomously.

"Don't act like you're suddenly masculine, you have the muscle tone of an 11 year old pubescent boy!" I shot back.

Then it all went black.

The sudden memory caused Daniella to stir and sit up quickly. A movement which her entire body severely disagreed with. Daniella carefully examined what she could see of the damage on her body.

Bruised ribs, knife cuts on stomach but not deep enough to wound fatally, sprained forearm from blocking punches, dark bruises around ankles and wrists indicating I was tied up, no internal damage, possible concussion.

She shifted her hips and winced.

I…I was raped

The shocking discovery caused her to rest against the front of the couch near her.

"You don't deserve to be loved" Jamison screamed.

He threw a flurry of punches and only managed to hit me once or twice bruising my ribs. I let out pitiful whimpers and groans of pain.

"Agh! Enough!" I yelled our safe word.

He either didn't hear me or didn't care enough to listen. The punches became more accurate and he managed to clip my jaw once.

"Jami! I said enough!" I yelled as furious tears poured down my face.

"We're finished when I say we're finished!" He yelled. The look of lust had been replaced with…joy?

He liked this? This was his form of enjoyment? Was I really that horrible to hi-. No. This was not my fault. I caught him cheating and was going to string him along tonight and leave him tomorrow morning.

Then he realized what my plan was, unfortunately he had a plan of his own.

Daniella grunted at the memory of the blows to her face and gently cradled her injured arm as she unsteadily rose to her feet.

"Just remember you deserve this…you pathetic slut" My boyfriend smirked evilly as he unzipped his jeans.

"NO!" I cried.

He brandished a kitchen knife.

"Don't tell me what to do, bitch" he snarled.

He drew the knife back across my stomach leaving small bleeding cuts there as well as all over my torso and chest.

"I hope you die" I spat back.

"With your luck you won't live long enough to see it" Jamison shot back.

He brought the knife down again.

Daniella shuddered and almost fell back on the couch. She needed to get back to her parents, that's the only safe place she knew. She'd been away from them for nearly 4 months, she was staying near her boyfriend's school's campus. Oxford. Jamison is one of the school's youngest professors and was a genius, but not nearly as smart as her Papa, Sherlock Holmes.

Daniella scoured the apartment until she located her cellphone and charger, stupidly Jamison left his phone and charger in the apartment as well. Considering professors aren't allowed to have their phones while teaching. Speaking of which, Daniella checked the time, she was relieved to see it was only 10:00.

That gives me 6 hours to get out of here!

Daniella moved as quickly as her body allowed her, gathering all of her clothes and items and cramming them into the biggest suitcase the professor owned. It was coincedentedly the suitcase that held all of the stuff that she had brought with her when she moved in. After a moments break Daniella finished scouring the apartment for any of her final possessions.

Remember he's not a genius but he certainly isn't stupid. He'll most likely fake an illness in the next hour or so to come back and torture you more.

Daniella suddenly became religious and thanked God that she was Sherlock Holmes' daughter. She dressed slowly but with hurried movements, refusing to tend to her more serious wounds she quickly did an inner checklist of everything. Knowing Jamison wouldn't take anything of hers to school she settled in the kitchen for a small breakfast.

The wounded teenager took this peace period to catalog the damage of the room.

Broken lamp, missing kitchen knife, coffee table stripped of all pictures of us together, living room window busted outwards, dinner from last night sat untouched and cold from the night before. Small puddles of blood surrounded my previous position, also from when I landed one or two good hits on him. I made his nose bleed at least.

Knowing her window of time was getting smaller every second, the clever teen pulled an ex-boyfriend's hoodie over herself and pulled up the hood. Timothy would be happy to know that something he left her would be put to good use.

Just as she was leaving she remembered to grab the house key to her parent's flat in case he didn't like his punching bag suddenly escaping. Finally she wrote a smartass yet clever comment so he wouldn't get suspicious immediately.

Went for groceries, had a great night last night baby! See you later, hope you get to feeling better.
-D

Hello! Thanks for reading the first chapter of my Johnlock fic. I really hoped you guys enjoyed it. I spent a lot of work on it.

Please leave lovely comments and reviews. Thanks!

-Sparkles