"Look John, this girl needs us. She's in trouble."

"Trouble? Like with the government? Can't you just call Mycroft?" Sherlock sighs.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mycroft never answers his phone." John sighs.

"Then text him!"

"No."

"Why not!?"

"She's not in trouble with the government."

"Then what? Her parents?"

"Partly. They did kick her out after all. But mostly she's in trouble with herself."

"Herself?" Sherlock looks at him.

"You haven't figured it out yet? John she's depressed. Her parents kicked her out and she's a closeted lesbian." John looks at him, only slightly surprised. "Now, I need you to go hide all of the knives in this place. I don't care if I'm using them for an experiment, get them out of this flat." Sherlock continues.

"Sherlock are you sure about this?" Sherlock sighs.

"Look, this girl needs someone. For now, that someone is us."

"But why us? How are we qualified to help this girl?" Sherlock sighs again and pulls up his sleeve, revealing scars all along his forearm.

"Because I've been there. Years ago, before you were ever in the picture. Did you really think the drugs were my only way of coping?" John stares at Sherlocks arm for a moment before Sherlock pulls his sleeve back down.

"I- Sherlock I-"

"It's fine John. Like I said it was a long time ago. Now, lets get this flat safe for her."

Hey, I just want to let you know that while the first few chapters are indeed quite short, they will be getting longer. And for now I'll be posting a bit more often to make up for it.