A/N This story is set between A Scandal in Belgravia and The Hounds of Baskerville, but there are not many spoilers...

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. Trust me, if I was in charge, SEASON FIVE WOULD BE OUT ALREADY, I MEAN COME ON, LIKE WHAT!?

Chapter One

John's POV

It started out like any old day. Sherlock and I were on our way back to Baker Street after a case that seemed a bit too easy. Sherlock had asked, well, demanded, quiet so that he could think and shut his eyes. Oh well, I needed some time to think anyway.

After about ten minutes of silence, Sherlock's eyes bolted open.

"Did you hear that?" He asked, sounding frantic. This wasn't like him, something was wrong.

"No... are you okay?" He looked around, searching for something. His gaze settled on something outside, something that was covered in shabby blankets and rags.

"STOP THE CAB!" He yelled. Yelled. Sherlock never yells.

"Huh?" The cabbie grunted, confused.

"I said, you idiot, stop the cab! NOW!" The cabbie slammed his foot on the brakes, causing the cab to skid to a halt. Sherlock flung open the door and ran a little ways back the way he had come.

"What the hell, Sherlock?" I said when I had finally caught up with him.

"Look." He said, pointing. "What exactly do you make of that?"

Jesse's POV

I awoke to a pounding headache. Well, more like that was what woke me. What I awoke to was two men standing over me.

"Geh away from meh!" Ugh. My speech was slurred, that's not good.

"Hang on! It's okay! We are here to help you!" The shorter of the two said. Loudly. Ow.

"Liah!" Liar, dammit. Why can't I talk? Wait, back in the moment. Where was I?

"Ah!" I yelled, jumping up. "Where did you come from? Wha's goin on?" Why are these men standing over me? And why is my speech slurred?

"What? We already told you, we are here to help you." The short one said, reaching out a hand.

"No, you didn't! I've never seen you before!" I tried to run, but suddenly I was stopped by a piercing headache. Pain doesn't usually stop me but this was something else. I had never felt anything like this. "Gah!" I yelled, falling to the ground. "Ow. Ow, ow, ow!" I curled up into a ball. "Make it stop! Make it stop!" I screamed. All of a sudden two men were rolling me over, helping me up. "Who are you? What are you doing? Get away from me!" I tried to hit them away, blindly throwing punches and kicking at the air.

"Kid, stop it! Please just calm down. Okay? My name is John Watson. This is Sherlock Holmes." He pointed to the taller man. "I'm a doctor, okay? I think your hurt so I'm just going to look at you. If that alright? I promise, I just want to help."

For some reason, I trusted this man. I tried to nod my head, big mistake. I groaned as another wave of pain hit me.

"Kid, you okay? Can I help you?"

"Y-yes. Please!" I managed to choke out some words.

"Ok. I'm just going to make sure you're alright." He worked carefully, asking me if a spot hurt when he touched it and stopping every as I seemed to be in pain. He was gentle, yet firm. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Finally, he looked at the other man, who had kneeled down on the other side of me. "Sherlock," He said, "We need to take her back to Baker Street."

A/N Wow, that was fun! Constructive criticism is welcome!