"Are you okay? Don't just say you are, because I know what that means—looking sad when you think she can't see you."
"You can see me."
"I don't count."

When Jane, Sherlock, and Mycroft made it back to flat 221b, Mrs. Hudson was there. She at first grew angry at Sherlock, but then became relieved with happiness and hugged him tight, repeating to him over and over to never do something like that again.

Lestrade also called during it and began laughing. He didn't know that he was alive, but now that he did, he planned on punching Sherlock next he saw him, much like Jane did. Sherlock and her shared a glance at that point, both grinning.

When everything had calmed down and Mrs. Hudson went back to her work, they seated themselves down and Mycroft began to speak. "Now that there are no more distractions, I would like to tell you what kind of job I have for the both of you."

He had both of their attentions. "Two weeks ago there was a large amount of government military secrets taken out from under our noses."

Sherlock raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh? Someone finally got the better of you, Mycroft?"

Mycroft gave him an annoyed look. "Not me. I wasn't assigned to that particular portion of the database. Jane, you may be familiar with the man who took the information's name. He went rouge right before you were sent back here. And he was also a doctor."

Fear crept into Jane's entire being. And she silently prayed that the name that was about to come out of the man across from her mouth was not the one she was thinking of. Mycroft continued. "His name is Dr. Adrian Hansford."

Jane's eyes closed and her mind went numb as he said it. So it is him...

A dull pain throbbed where the bullet had pierced her skin in her shoulder as Sherlock began asking questions about the man, but Jane heard none of them.

It was only when Sherlock shook her arm that she came out of her trance. "Jane? Are you alright?"

Jane looked at him. Concern was in his eyes. She gave a small smile. "Yes. Yeah, I'm fine."

Not convinced, Sherlock sat back in his chair. Mycroft's eyes narrowed. "Jane, did you know Dr. Hansford?"

Her eyes snapped to him. Her mouth went dry and she found it hard to speak.

Finally managing to choke out the words, she said, "I did. We worked together on several missions and on the field. Back then I had though him a good man, though. However, when I heard he had told the enemy of where we were transferring the injured to safety and had them ambushed, my opinion quickly changed."

"I see," he replied. "Well, I must go, now. I have some business to attend to." Giving the two of them 'the look' he said, more of a demand than a question, "You will track him down, won't you?"

Sherlock gave a quick smirk. "Rouge soldier. Stolen military secrets. Highly dangerous. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

And with a smirk of his own, Mycroft left.

When the sound of Mycroft's car disappeared into the distance, Sherlock turned to Jane cheerfully, clapping his hands together. "Well! Better get started. We should check the archives first and find all that we can about him. Then, we can move on, depending on what we find out about him and his character, to the rest of the job."

"If you're wondering about the day he betrayed the army, you don't need to look it up on a computer." Jane mumbled.

Sherlock looked at her confusedly. "What do you mean?"

In a shaking, yet firm voice Jane said, "I mean that I can answer everything for you. After all, I was the captain in charge of the assigned mission. And he was the one who betrayed and shot me." Sherlock's eyes widened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked stiffly.

A sad smile appeared on Jane's lips. "You never saw my wound, did you?" His silence was all the answer she needed.

Standing, Jane pulled the left side collar of her shirt to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. And there, on her pale and delicate shoulder, was a twisted, yet faded round scar. Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

Reaching out with his hand, he touched the place on her shoulder.

A strange madness began to burn in his eyes. Venom dripped from each word as he spoke. "That man, that...Dr. Adrian Hansford, did this to you?"

Jane let her collar go back into place as he removed his hand.

Sighing, Jane walked over to the window and looked out. "Adrian and I...well...we were close, once."

"You were friends with him?"

"Yes... In a way you could say that we were best friends." Sherlock remained silent. Watching her every movement like a hawk. She knew that he was studying the way she stood, the way she moved her shoulder around uncomfortably, the way she seemed to be... scared.

"When you first met me, Sherlock. You deduced that I had suffered trauma. But you had meant emotional trauma. Which is true. It was emotional, but it was also physical. Then later, you asked me to use my imagination and think of what I would say as I was dying. 'Please, God, let me live.' I didn't need to use my imagination."

Sherlock moved slightly closer to her.
Taking a deep breath she continued. "When I first joined the army, I met a man, Adrian, we became friends due to similar interests. We both wanted to help people, hence the fact we became doctors.
"One day, we, and a few others were ordered to carry out a secret mission. The mission to transport the injured to a new, secret location. As a captain, I was in command. I had noticed Adrian had been acting weird recently by that time, but I just thought it was due to pressure, I mean, we were all on edge. But no... No, this was different.
"When we all made it to the new location, we went to scout out ahead, making sure there was no one else there. When neither of us found anything, we headed back," Jane's breath hitched and she shuddered. "When we walked into the main room with the injured soldiers and other doctors, they were dead. All shot. They must have used silencers, or else I would have heard them.
"I didn't know what was going on, but I knew we had betrayed. The location was top secret after all. I ran up to the nearest body and examined it. I turned to Adrian to ask what could have happened but when I did, I found him pointing a gun at me.
"I asked what he was doing and was shot in the shoulder, near my heart. I fell to the ground, and tried to stay awake. I remember him walking up and taking one of his fingers, sticking it in the bullet whole, and making the wound worse. I remember screaming from agony. I was confused. Why would he be doing this? We were friends. It must be some sort of mistake. But no. It wasn't.
"He smiled down at me and my suffering as if it was amusing. Still smiling he said: "Goodbye, Jane." and stood."

Sherlock flinched at those words. 'Goodbye, Jane.' The same words he had said to her the day he had faked his death. And he realized then just how much emotional pain those two simple words had caused her.

Jane continued. "Right before he left, though. He stamped down on my leg, the same one that had a limp, breaking it. I fell unconscious after one last scream.

"When I woke up again, it was three weeks later. I was in a hospital room. My leg had practically healed by that time, so if I used crutches and a boot, I could walk. My shoulder was on its way to recovery, too. But the 'trauma' that the whole thing had caused was enough to make me have a limp without reason, nightmares, and anxiety."

Jane turned to look at Sherlock. He was stiff and rigid. "You said that I had trouble trusting others, once. Well, now you know why."

Without a word, Sherlock retrieved his coat, gloves, and scarf. Putting them on, he stormed out of the room, and down the stairs. "Sherlock?" Jane called after him. "Sherlock!"

Running after him, she caught him at the front door, he stopped with it halfway opened, not looking at her. "Sherlock, what are you doing?"

He looked her in the eye, and fury and madness burned in them like no other flame. "You know, Jane," his voice was borderline mad. "you should have just let me take the long way 'round and not have told me all that yourself. Because now...now there is no force on this earth that will stop me from finding that man and killing him with my own hands." and with that he walked out, slamming the door behind him. Leaving Jane standing in the empty hallway alone.

Sherlock's getting angry~!