I feel dirty. There has to have been more that I could have done to prevent this. I'm still in this van, I need to get out. Every time the driver makes a turn, I flinch and Moriarty looks at me.

"Try to calm down, my dear, you don't look so well." He said sarcastically. I try not to even look at him. The car makes a sudden stop and I fall forward near him. I quickly scramble away but his henchman goes over to the back door of the van and opens it. He grabs me and roughly pushes me out. Moriarty calls to me from inside the van.

"I had a nice time, Jane. Maybe we'll do this again sometime." He winked. I didn't get off the ground until he was out of sight.

I manage to stand up but I grab onto the wall for support. I run to a nearby garbage can as the contents of my stomach are emptied out. The only thing I can think of right now is him standing over me. I start to panic even more when I think of Sherlock.

He can't find out, I don't want him to see me like this. I know I won't be able to hide it from him though, he will just see right through me. I look at my surroundings and realize that I am at the end of my block. I check my phone for the time. It is 5:00am; I was in that van for at least four and a half hours. I also see that I have three new messages from Sherlock.

Where are you? -SH

Please answer me; it's been two hours since I last heard from you. It's really late! -SH

I'm calling Lestrade! -SH

I don't answer any of them. I just start walking to the flat. It doesn't take long, only about five minutes. Opening the door and going upstairs, I notice that Sherlock isn't home. I even check his bedroom, no one is there. Maybe he is with Lestrade. I waste no time going to the bathroom and turning on the shower. The feel of the hot water on my skin feels amazing.

I wash my hair thoroughly along with everything else. I am in the shower for at least an hour. The tears hit the floor like bullets. Regaining my composure, I step out of the shower and dry off. I use the towel to dry my hair and place it in the hamper.

I get dressed with fresh clothes and throw the old ones in the trash. There is no way I can ever wear those clothes again. I am about to go to bed when I hear someone come into the flat. I tried to be quiet but I managed to drop something and a very angry Sherlock burst through my door.

"Would you care to tell me where the hell you were? I called Lestrade and he said you went to see him and left at midnight. It doesn't take five hours to walk here from Scotland Yard!"

"It doesn't matter where I was; the point is I'm here now!"

This did not help the anger in his eyes. He stepped forward and looked at me straight in the eye and observed everything he could. His voice changed from angry to his usual voice.

"Why did you change your clothes? Where are the old ones?"

"They got far too dirty, I threw them out."

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing Mrs. Hudson can't handle. Where are they? I'll get them."

"No!"

My sudden outburst made him look at me very funny. He knew something was wrong and he could see in my eyes what it was. He moved more toward me and spoke very intensely.

"Jane, where were you?"

"I just took a while to get back, that's all!"

He suddenly grabs both of my arms and pushes me against the wall. The sudden shock makes me scream and doesn't help my argument.

"Don't lie to me, Jane! Who did this to you?"

I am too frozen to answer, I just start breathing deeply. He gets angrier and repeats his question, even louder this time.

"Who did this to you?"

I can only manage one word, but this word is all I need.

"Moriarty."

He blinks a few times, lets go of me, and steps back. He doesn't say a word; he simply exits my bedroom and prepares to leave the flat. I run into the living room.

"Sherlock, wait!" He turns to look at me. "Please don't leave me here alone."

He sets his coat down and directs me to the couch. I am jumpy, but I trust him more than I trust any other human being on this planet. I know he will not harm me.

He sits down on the end of the couch and I sit next to him. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me close to him, allowing me to gently weep on his shirt. I know he must feel awkward, but he manages to speak up anyway.

"We need to go to Scotland Yard later; we need to talk to Lestrade about this."

I only nod to indicate that I understand. If it were up to me, no one would find out about this. There was no way I was about to get past Sherlock though.

We spent the rest of the morning on the couch together. Due to the little sleep I got, I ended up falling asleep on his shoulder. I woke up at about noon; Sherlock was no longer with me. He had gotten up and placed a blanket over me. He was probably in his bedroom.

He heard me move around the living room and opened his door. What I expected to happen, surprisingly, did not happen. I expected him to barely look at me and avoid any subject on the matter at hand. Yet, when he opened his door, he looked right at me, smiled, and greeted me like he usually does. The only difference is that he stated that we needed to go to Scotland Yard right away to see Lestrade. I agreed and we set off.

The cab ride there was uneventful. It was nearly silent except for Sherlock telling the cabbie where to go. Once we got out, we stepped into the police station and made our way to Lestrade's office, but not before being confronted by Anderson.

"Well, if it isn't the dream team, here to fight more crime?"

"Not now, Anderson." Sherlock replied, very seriously. Anderson did not get the hint.

"I hope you're enjoying living with a woman for once in your life. Don't try to play stupid though, we all know that you're shagging her." He said that last part loud on purpose to draw the attention of everyone around. Not only was what he said not true, it was humiliating.

"Anderson, I strongly suggest that you shut up now!" Sherlock sounded angry, and I don't blame him because I was just as mad.

"What are you going to do? You're nothing but a freak that solves crimes by using magic tricks. Go back to the circus where you belong and leave the crimes to the experts."

At this, I have had enough. I stomp up to Anderson and punch him square in the nose. He grabs his nose in pain and stumbles over. Sherlock grabs my arm and pulls me away from him. We continue to walk toward Lestrade's office and Sherlock leans forward and whispers something in my ear.

"Nice job."

I try to stifle a laugh and we finally make it to Lestrade's office and close the door behind us.