Prologue:

The screams were going to come, she could feel them welling up inside of her. Normally the pain subsides, but for her it just gets stronger. Sometimes she would think that the pain couldn't get any worse, that it could only get better. It never did though, the pain never eased, it only changed.
Her eyes were closed, settled into a dream, but her mind was on fire. She kept seeing it, watching helpless as her mother died in her arms again and again. She knew it would never stop. Sometimes she could break free, wake herself with the screams, but it was only a short time before she found herself falling asleep once more. Falling asleep at the hands of the man who ruined her life. At the hands of Richard Brook.

Chapter 1:

She was sitting in the fetal position, head resting on her knees. Something was stuck to her forehead but when she tried to move her arms they didn't respond. She ran through the basics to keep herself from panicking. She didn't remember much but she knew her name, Adelaide.
Okay, how old? Hmmm, about 13, the last couple years have been a stain on my memory. 13 sounds about right though. What happened? Drugged probably, not sure though. Where am I now? No Idea, looks like a flat though. Or rather the hallway in front of the flat whose door I am sitting in front of. Looks small from here, probably in the city, not likely I'm here for someone unimportant enough to have this small of a flat outside the city. But which city. Ugh, my deductions are becoming ever slower, I wonder how long it will be until I lose them all over again. Oh well, keeping it going, thing on my head? Hmm..
Adelaide's thought process cut off abruptly as the door swung open and a hushed whisper carried through the hall.
"John, something is wrong here, see the marks on the door and threads of fabric caught in the wood. Someone was carried in here."
Adeline smiled, John was the name of her father. He always weighed heavy on her heart ever since the day she was taken away from him "for her protection" according to the CPS. But he was all she had in the end, with the violent end of her mother and sister. Even John, the army doctor had almost been lost to her when he was shot in the shoulder and invalidated. Adelaide felt the tears coming, even if her father was alive, he would not recognize her. Something happened in Afghanistan, something nobody will talk about. Something that made him forget about whole parts of his life, about his family. As she sat there thinking, she almost didn't catch it. Her father's voice. Maybe it was a hallucination from the drug, but she didn't think so. It was definitely there and definitely her father's voice.
"It's probably nothing Sherlock"
Footsteps began to echo from the stairwell. She started to feel self conscious, not like he would recognize her anyway, but oh god, she was wearing batman pajamas and a cape. The footsteps suddenly stopped short, probably they had caught sight of her, she tried to lift her head and managed a jerky nod, willing her eyes to focus. Adelaide managed to keep the smile from flashing across her face as her gaze fell over her father. It was so hard to believe, Father, standing right in front of her, so many times she had wished for this. Her joy soon washed away, looking at the blank stare of her father. This is going to be torture for her.
Sherlock didn't really seem phased as he stepped forward from behind John and plucked the note off her head. He stared at it for a second and proceeded to hand it over to John. Sherlock pulled his phone out and texted Lestrade. John gasped. The note read: Queen to 221B, checkmate. Your move. Love, JM.
Sherlock walked right past her, but as stunned as John seemed, he felt the need to tend to Adelaide, for which she was grateful.
"Sherlock, what do we do with her?" John questioned.
Without even turning around from studying the note, he replied "bring her in here, Lestrade will be here soon."
Adelaide could feel John struggling to pull her up, so she pushed herself up as best she could and managed to cross into the room with the aid of John, falling only once or twice.
"I think she's drugged Sherlock, what should we do. Does she need a hospital?" John contemplated.
"No John, you're a doctor remember?" Sherlock replied testily.
Adelaide lost the thread of conversation as she tried to keep herself from slipping into sleep, into the bad dreams, but the drugs pulled her under.

Talking, waiting. She's taking to long. Listening to the door, hoping I don't get caught. I need to be home. After an hour I knock. No reply. Heart starts beating faster, mind racing, hoping. Turning the handle, pushing the door, running my gaze down to the floor. Stomach drops, heart stops beating, blood on the floor, a cut small but deep. No time for tears, jacket comes off and against her stomach. The bleeding doesn't stop. Soaks through the jacket until I'm panicking and screaming. They come rushing and try to push me away. She's dying, I'm not leaving now. They call the paramedics. I'm holding her in my arms now, the light fades from her eyes, her pulse slows, her lungs stop working and she loses her grip on the world. Sitting there and the tears won't come, just the pain, worse than any wound, worse than hers, like I've been emptied out, nothing left of me anymore. And I'm screaming, the pain is too much, too raw, she's like a grenade and she just exploded, embedding her shrapnel in me, because I let myself get too close, because I let myself love her. Mother is dead and I'm screaming because I can't stop. I keep reliving this moment over and over in my dreams until I don't know what reality is anymore. And I'm not sure I'll ever wake up.

Adelaide feels strong hands against her shoulders, holding her down. Her screams are still echoing around the flat and her eyes fly open to three people standing over her, hands over their ears and two of them look worried. The other would be Sherlock, observing with renewed interest. Lestrade tries to calm Adelaide enough to get some answers. She seems excited by the freedom of movement she has now gained and sits up rather quickly, something that will probably cause her a good deal of nausea. Her hands move tentatively to her cheeks and she seems rather taken aback by the tear tracks that now reside there.
Adelaide starts muttering "not supposed to happen, not supposed to happen, not supposed..."
But Lestrade quickly grabs her shoulders and calms her down. "we need to ask you some questions"
Adelaide looks confused for a moment but agrees.