A/N: Not much to say other than enjoy, comment, and stop bugging me for updates. You'll get them when you get them, ergo, once a week minimum, twice a week maximum. If you're dying for something to read, I highly recommend The American's Thesis.

Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the inestimable Moffat and the BBC and other people who aren't me. As always, a tip of the hat to ACD.

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There was a knock on the door. Wonder who that could be, this time of night. Mrs. Hudson was surprised to see Sherlock standing in the entryway. He looked terrible, blood dripping into his scarf, bruises mottling his pale face, which were inexplicably covered with tearstains. He was shaking slightly too, and it couldn't be from the cold: it was balmy outside.

"Sherlock dear, what on earth…"

"Mrs. Hudson, I have done a Very Bad Thing."

"Come on in dear, don't just stand there. I'll get you a cuppa. Now, what did you do?"

"I can't remember."

"Did it involve the police? Do I need to call your brother? I hope not, dear, he's frightfully rude. And what on earth did you do to your handsome face? Were you in an accident? Is John alright?"

"John is fine, Mrs. Hudson."

"He better be. Nice boy, John. You take good care of him, you hear? Now hold still, you need some ointment on those bruises. And some antiseptic for that cut..."

"Ouch. Leave my face alone!"

"You can't just leave it like that Sherlock, it'll scar. Now. Why have you been crying? What happened?"

"I haven't been crying, Mrs. Hudson, don't be ridiculous!"

"What else do you call it? Your face is covered with tearstains, and you were sobbing when you walked in my door. Don't try and deny it. Feelings won't kill you, dear. Are you sure John's alright?"

"He's fine Mrs. Hudson." I hope so.

"What happened? And don't dare lie to me, young man!"