Sherlock was drooling on my shoulder.

I tried to push him off, but my arms were not responding. They simply twitched uselessly. "Traitors." I mumbled. My fingers jerked in response.

Sherlock made a small snorting sound, which was followed by a disgusting bubble spittle. I made an awkward gagging noise. "'ferlock."

Great my mouth wasn't working either.

" 'erlock."

Come on, Jade, use your words.

"Sherlock!" I wiggled my shoulder underneath him until he began to respond. He snorted as he came to, his eyes were blinking frantically. He tried to sit up, but his body was responding as well as mine was.

I told my body to react. I was the master of myself, my fingers began twitching. I tried to focus harder.

Come on, come on.

I managed to make my muscles spaz, but the only thing major movement I was able to do was dump Sherlock off the army cot we were sat on, and onto the cold floor. He grunted painfully.

"Sorry, sorry."

He shook his head back and forth. His hands twitched uselessly and even after all that, he still managed to turn his head and be a smart ass. "If you point out we're drugged you're as useless as a person who jumps out of a two story window. Oh, wait."

"Glad to hear you're doing okay, Cuz."

Sherlock moved his facial muscles slowly. He put his hands flat on the ground and rolled himself over. Though a little movement it was, it exhausted him. He lay on his back shucking in gulps of air. "We've changed buildings."

I blinked, my mind was too fuzzy to figure out how he knew. "How did…"

"The walls aren't white, the ceilings to low suggesting different part of the building, but more likely because it's different building all together, the…."

"I get it, I get it. Even drugged you're still a genius."

Sherlock pressed his hands to his bare abdomen. He let out sigh of annoyance. "That was my favorite shirt."

"It was purple."

"It was my favorite."

"God save us from the torture of you losing your favorite purple shirt." I mumbled. I couldn't tell if Sherlock was smiling or not. I thought I noticed him smirking, but my vision was doubling, so it was hard to tell. We lay/sat in awkward silence.

"Sherlock, is it still cold in here?" I asked. My body felt like it was on fire, the only good thing about the drugs was the pains from my injuries were gone.

"Look at your breath, and then ask me again." His usual smart ass-ism was coming back full swing.

I breathed out what my mother used to affectionately call smoke breath. It was defiantly freezing. Sherlock wasn't even shivering.

"You don't look cold."

"I'm too excited to be cold." So he was smiling. "This is too fun."

"That's it. When we get back I'm giving you my loony pills." I pressed my head to the cool wall. I was grateful for the cold.

Sherlock was pulling himself up into a sitting position. I was jealous of his strength and will; then again he wasn't dealing with several injuries and a fever. I fell back on the old army cot, the stupid thing had the nerve to creak.

"Shut up." I growled at it.

Sherlock was struggling to pull himself to his feet. It was clear he was groggier than he was letting on. His body crashed back down to the floor.

"Please don't get up in my account, Mr. Holmes." Ri, of the Black Lotus said warmly.

I put my face in the cot and mumbled curse words at my favorite psycho bitch. Sherlock was still trying to stand.

"Chinese herbs, Mr. Holmes. You'll be weak for hours."

Sherlock's body seemed desperate to defy her as he rose slowly to his feet. Her eyes widened. Sherlock's blue eyes were icy, but his expression was quickly weakened as he collapsed back to his knees. Even his body was limited.

Her self-righteous look returned. She took a step towards my cousin and rested the muzzle of a gun on his shoulder. "Mr. Holmes, I would be so appreciative if you and your cousin would answer some questions."

I could see Sherlock laugh and shake his head smugly. "For God's sake I'm bored already."

"Don't you just want to kill it before it lays eggs?" I directed the question loudly at The Black Lotus clan.

She fired a shot above my head that caused the cement wall to explode. "Holy T.A.R.D.I.S of Gallifrey!" My body reacted by throwing itself off the army cot and onto my cousin. We rolled painful together.

"Oof." Sherlock grunted.

"Ta-dah." I said dizzily.

Sherlock, ever the concerned cousin, shoved me off him. Obviously our motor skills were returning faster than they were supposed to. My leg throbbed as if telling me the blissful numbness was leaving. I groaned.

She sighed heavily as if completely disappointed with our lack of cooperation. She pointed the gun back at Sherlock's head. "Him first. The little girl is too weak for this now. We need her wide awake for later."

Two men yanked Sherlock up between them. Sherlock's knees gave out and suddenly the two men were holding him up. I rolled onto my hands and knees as my leg screamed in protest. I stared at Sherlock longingly. "He doesn't know anything."

"He is the Great Sherlock Holmes. He knows everything." And with that they carried my cousin out of the room.

They brought him back within two minutes.

His forehead was bleeding profoundly, his chest was bruised, and the way he carried himself suggested he had broken ribs. He stumbled in on his own, refusing to allow the Black Lotus thugs to carry him. I could see pain in his usually emotionless eyes. The door slammed behind him and he fell face first into the army cot.

"Sherlock!" I tried to stumble towards him, but my leg wouldn't allow it.

"Stay back." He said close to shouting. He rose to his hands and flipped himself over so he was lying on his back. I could hear his labored breathing. I choose to ignore his stay back and stumbled over to him.

"Sherlock." I whispered. He had his eyes closed.

"Jade, get back."

I put my hand on the side of his forehead and brushed the hair out of his face.

"Jade."

I pulled a furry old blanket over his chest carefully. There were only bruises on his chest, no cuts.

"Jade."

I scrapped ice off the side of the wall and gently placed it near his swelling eye. It was the first time I realized how cold it was in the room.

"Jayden!" He shouted. His ice blue eyes looked at me with anger, I stared back at him.

"Sherlock!" I shouted at the top of my voice, suddenly just as angry. "Shut up. I know you think your above help, but here's a little deduction for you. You. Are. Human. And you're my cousin so just let me help you. I won't tell anyone, so please just shut your Goddamn trap."

The door opened behind us, Sherlock sat up a little. Two water bottles were being rolled into the room, along with a small first aid kit. I pretty much had to crawl to get the water bottle, my leg was throbbing terribly. I gripped one in my hand and popped the top off. Orderless, colorless, it seemed to good to be true. I crawled back with first aid kit and water bottles. I passed one to Sherlock, who sniffed it and ran his finger around the edge. After a few seconds he took a sip, then another. He licked his lips and passed me the bottle.

"This one's okay. Now let me see the other one." I passed it to him. He preformed the same ritual again and then took a sip. After a few seconds of waiting he began chugging his water down. I followed suit.

Sherlock cracked open the first aid kit, he grabbed my bad leg and put it in his lap. I flinched horribly. Sherlock took out bandages and began wrapping it carefully. He made sure to set it straight up and down. My bones protested loudly.

"Sherlock." I groaned.

He said nothing. His hands worked expertly around my leg. Doc would have been impressed. "What'd they ask?" I asked finally.

"Nothing." His deep voice said quietly.

I leaned back into the cold wall. "Sherlock, you can tell me…"

"They did not ask me anything." He said softly. He finished with my leg, I wiggled it slightly. The pain wasn't totally gone, but having it wrapped helped.

"Why wouldn't they ask you anything?" I ruffled through the first aid kit and pulled out idione and a rag. I swabbed a bit of it on the bottom of the rag and gently dabbed it on Sherlock's forehead.

"It's a mind game." His voice sounded dangerously close to amused. "Outside of the room is dangerous, inside is safe. They want us to want to be in this room." He took the rag from my hand and dabbed at his own wound. Heaven forbid anyone help him.

Sherlock held the rag against his head. I looked over his bruises and scopped out more ice.

"Immature brat."

"I know."

I put the ice in a rag and gently pressed it to my older cousin's swelled eye. He passed me the rag full of idione, and let me clean the rest of his wounds.

In our own Holmes way, we were telling each other we'd be there for one another.