That night, John had insisted that 'Jane' wash up. Her clothes were covered in dirt, and her skin tone had grown unrecognizable. She had protested, but eventually, the doctor had won, and Jane had gone into the bathroom. Right as she entered the bathroom, Sherlock had come out of no where, and handed her a robe. Understanding what he meant, she grabbed it, and emerged a minute later, handing him her clothes for the wash.

Jane didn't spend too long to wash up. All she did was just get everything off of her. What took time however, was her hair. Her white streak in her otherwise midnight hair. She had gained it over the six months she was captive, and proved as a reminder that she had gone through it. In her mind, she saw it as a reminder that however far she ran, however long she hid, she was always his, and he would never let go.

In all honesty, she would rather be on her brother's bad side than his. He was her ultimate evil. His name would forever be seared into her memory, ever letting her let go.

Gustave. She had always thought the name belonged to a small little boy who would have a perfect little life. That was just what the name had made her think. But after her run in with him, she was forever changed.

She stared into the mirror, staring at the white in her hair. She was terrified at what they would think. John might put it off as hair dye, and that she just liked it that way, but Sherlock would see what it was. He would ask her questions about those six months. Questions she didn't want to answer. Would he do anything about it? Would he be angry, or flood her with pity? She was scared to find out, and she just wanted to leave.

She pulled on the robe before leaving the bathroom in search for her clothes in the cold. She was surprised he still had it. Before, she had spent so much time with Sherlock, they practically lived together. She had left the robe there because of the innumerable amount of times she had stayed the night.

She slowly walked over to the sofa, finding her wet clothes near it, drying. She grabbed them, but before she could turn around to go back in the bathroom to put them on, a voice from behind her called out. "You don't want to leave, but you feel the need. You know that both I and John want you to stay, but you don't care. Why?"

Jane silently cursed herself. She should have known he would be there, that he would do something like this. If she really didn't want to talk to him about it, she could have easily just walked out to a cab, and gone home. She instead chose to talk about it. Couldn't she just make up her mind?

Without turning around, she replied "Because I want to stay friends, and if I stay, I fear we might not stay that way."

Sherlock unable to see her face was taken aback. Friends? He had friends? He supposed that by society's standards they were friends. He, the great Sherlock Holmes, had a friend?

"Friends. What would make me not want to be friends with you? Nothing can come to mind."

Jane almost turned around at that. Nothing comes to mind in all of his mind palace? No. Impossible. He just didn't want to tell her that.

"I just need to go, ok Sherlock?" she said with a small quiver in her voice. Sherlock slowly walked towards her, looking to see what was wrong. After a small shiver from her, he walked over to his coat, grabbing it, and walking back towards her.

As soon as the warmth from Sherlock's coat enveloped her, she dropped the clothes, instead grabbing the edges of the coat to bring it closer to her while attempting to hide her hair. She didn't know why she even stayed in London. She hated the cold, and that was one thing London never ran out of. She supposed the only reason for wanting to stay was to see Sherlock. He was the only person who actually cared for her that wasn't family. It felt... nice to know that she was one of the few people that could get him to act human.

"Then why are you trying to convince yourself more then me?"

Sherlock was silent as Jane turned around, his eyes darting straight to her hair. White! Her hair had turned white. It was not dyed, that was clear by the natural look to it, but also the pain in her eyes. What could have possibly happened to her that had made her hair turn whi-

Those months.

"Sherlock, don't." said Jane as she watched his eyes fill with anger as he looked at her hair. "No questions, no deductions, and no staring. I won't talk about it, and I don't want you to know about-"

She was cut off by his arms wrapping around her. He could see it pained her to talk, and he knew that a hug would calm her. He didn't enjoy them, but knew that she did, and they could easily calm her down. She wrapped her arms around him, loving the extra warmth, and the chance to stop talking.

As they let go, they silently agreed that it was a topic not up for discussion. "John might ask."

Jane smirked up at him. "He'll ask why I dyed my hair."

Sherlock smirked in agreement before turning around, walking to his room. "I shall get you some night clothes. You can sleep in my bed, I don't think I will be sleeping tonight."

Jane laughed, following him into his room, still holding his coat to herself. "But your case is over, and I refuse to be the reason that you don't get any sleep. I can tell you're tired and need sleep. You should get the bed. I have almost spent as many nights on a sofa as you have."

Sherlock handed her the night clothes that he had kept for her after she had left and left the room, letting her get dressed without any prying eyes. "I have an experiment I want to do before I sleep, and it will take a great deal of time to finish and wrap up."

"Well," said Jane as she emerged in her night clothes, a pair of matching purple pajamas, slightly like what he was wearing. "I refuse to let you stay up, or take the sofa, and you refuse to let me take the sofa, so besides both of us staying up all night, witch neither of us will agree to, I can only see one solution. Well," she said, turning to go back in the bedroom, "besides me leaving. But neither of us, again, will let that happen."

Sherlock watched as she walked to the far side of his bed, and got in, leaving a lot of space for him. Walking over, he narrowed his eyes at her. "What if I refuse to sleep in my bed?"

"Well, I'll just follow you to where ever your experiment is, and lay on it. Stop arguing. I'm too tired to think," she said with a grumble as she turned slightly to get more comfortable.

Sherlock rolled his eyes before giving in and laying down next to her. It wasn't the first time that they had shared a bed. On those few occasions that she didn't know who the criminal was, she would help him on a case. Small were the number of times they had to go out of town for those cases, and since they would share a hotel room for the case, they had to share the bed also. He saw no difference between now and then, except for the thought that they hadn't seen each other in so long, and this is what happened.

What was with them? He didn't need John to tell him how unusual it was, but soon all his thought turned to mush as he fell to sleep, a sleep that, like she had said, he needed.

A/N: I just looked at the favorite and follow count, and wow. I can't believe people are reading this. Hope you like the chapter. I have no idea how it ended up this way, I just wanted them to talk about things, then this happened. More to come. See you all soon!