Hello, once again. Please tell me if these little news feed is a little bit annoying, or if you think that it gives the author/ story more character. Anyway, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter: 12

17 years earlier

18th December 1999

Sherlock sighed heavily, down at his watch. It was just past four, and he was still stuck at work. He looked around his cubical, seeing everyone else intent on finishing their jobs, before bringing out his phone and calling Sam.

"Hello?" Sam's voice came to his ears, and he frowned slightly as he noticed that there was a touch of worry in her voice.

"Sam." Sherlock started and heard a bit of a relieved sigh from the other end, before saying, "Listen, I'm still at work. I'll try and get back as soon as possible, okay?"

He waited for a little bit, before Sam replied, "Take your time, Sherlock. Don't rush yourself. I'll make sure that dinner's ready for you when you get back home."

"Thank you, Sam." Sherlock frowned slightly, asking, "Are you already at home?"

Sam took a breath, but before she could say anything, a woman's voice flowed down to Sherlock's ears, "Hey Sherlock."

He looked over his shoulder, seeing a woman in her late twenties with brown eyes, curly blonde hair, wearing stockings, high heels, a short black skirt, and a white shirt that seemed to match with her red painted lips.

"I'll call you back." Sherlock said hurriedly, before hanging up on Sam. He turned around, clearing his throat slightly, before telling his boss, "My mother."

She nodded slowly, rolling her tongue around in her mouth, giving him a hungry look. Sherlock frowned, asking, "Can I help you in some way?"

She gave a small laugh, crying to Sherlock while stepping inside his cubical, "That's a good one! No, I just came in here so that I could talk to you. You're such a good listener, Sherlock."

He raised an eyebrow, reading off her slightly, but stopped once he had found the heart of why she was here. Sherlock cleared his throat slightly, before saying, "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Can't what?" She asked, a little startled as she raised her eyebrows at him. Sherlock looked over his shoulder, before saying in a matter-of-fact voice, "I can't go out with you tonight, Miss Darks."

Sherlock spun his seat around, so that he was facing his computer once more, while Miss Darks took a deep breath through her nose. She thought for a second, before deciding that she wasn't going to give up easily.

She took a few steps, until she was behind Sherlock, where she placed her hands on his shoulders, bending down so that her head was next to his ear, saying, "Call me Sophie, please. I think its better when co-workers get to know each other... personally."

She rubbed his arms slightly, before putting her arms around his neck, and kissing his cheek. Sherlock ignored all of this, typing on his computer.

But when one of her hands dropped down below his stomach and touched his legs, Sherlock jumped out of his seat, pushing Miss Darks back against the wall of his tiny office.

Sherlock took a few seconds to recover, before grabbing his coat, keys, and phone. He turned to his boss, saying as he walked past her, "I'm leaving."

Miss Darks ran after him, shouting threats at him, "If you leave this building right now, Mr. Holmes, you're fired!"

His on the handle of the front doors, Sherlock turned his head back to look at her, thinking for a few moments, before saying simply, "I quit."

With that, Sherlock threw on his coat, and walked out the door. He didn't stop until he was standing next to his bike, the cool wind whipping around him, pulling at his hair.

He took a deep breath, before taking out his phone and calling Sam again. This time, she didn't pick up, and so Sherlock recorded his message to her.

"Sam. I'm sorry about the way I hung up on you. That was rude of me, but as you can guess, one of the girls in my office came up to me again." He sighed heavily, rubbing his hand over his face, before continuing.

"Anyway, I'm sorry..." He paused trying to think about what to do. Should he tell her now, or when he saw her.

He couldn't decide, so he said, "There's something I need to tell you. I had the chance this morning, but I didn't want to worry you. But you'll find out soon enough."

Sherlock stopped once more, changing his mind and saying, "I'll tell you when I get back. I should be there in twenty minutes. Bye."

Then he hung up, placing the phone against his forehead. He took a deep breath, the frosty air stinging in his throat, before he climbed onto his bike and turned the engine on, after putting his helmet on.

He drove for nearly twenty minutes, and it started to rain once he was nearing the end of his journey. It was a very big storm, and the thunder claps shook the house as he stepped inside.

"Sam! I'm back!" Sherlock called through the house, placing his helmet on the table next to the door, while shaking water from his coat.

No sound came from anywhere around the house, and Sherlock frowned as he walked into all of the rooms, but didn't see any sign of Sam.

When he walked into the main bedroom, he saw that the clothes Sam had been wearing that day were thrown not too nicely onto the bed. Sherlock frowned even more, his mind still working feverishly.

Then panic struck him, as his mind came to the one conclusion as to where Sam could have been. Sherlock ran through the house, to the lounge room. One of the glass doors was open, and the wind was blowing it back and forth, making it clatter.

Sherlock ran past the door, over the gravel that made a path to the pool. His feet were protected by his shoes, but if he hadn't been wearing them, his feet would be shredded to pieces. He tried to keep back the thought of what Sam's feet might look like if she hadn't been wearing shoes, and kept running, throwing his coat away.

When he reached the pool side, he didn't even pause. Sherlock just jumped while taking a deep breath, before plunging into the pool. The water was freezing cold, and his skin screamed as all warmth vanished.

But his heart continued to beat faster as he saw through the blur of water... Sam's naked body, handcuffed to the ladder. She must have gone through all of his pockets to find the handcuffs, and Sherlock could see that she had dropped the key into the pool, so that it was lying at the bottom.

He quickly grabbed it, before releasing Sam's hand. Once she was free, Sherlock pulled her up to the surface with him. He broke through the water, taking deep breaths of air, while pulling Sam to the edge of the water, where he struggled to push her out.

Sherlock didn't want to let her go, and his heart was beating so fast, that he could barely decipher one beat from another. Once he managed to pull her out of the water, Sherlock checked her pulse, but felt nothing.

He pushed on her chest five times, tried to put air into her lungs, and repeated the five beats, trying to get her heart started again. The third time he did it, Sam's eyes flew open, and she coughed up water.

Relief ran through Sherlock's body, and his hands started to shake, only then realizing that her body was freezing, and that cold rain was still falling through the sky.

Quickly, Sherlock wrapped her into his coat, then picked her unconscious body up, and carried inside to the main bedroom. Sherlock placed her on the bed, ran into the bathroom where he retrieved a towel, before walking back over to Sam, where he rubbed her body dry.

He combed through her draws, before pulling out the warmest pyjamas he could find, which he pulled onto her, before going back and grabbing a knitted jumper.

After pulling the jumper over her head with shaking hands, Sherlock got another one of his coats, which he wrapped Sam in for more warmth. He had thrown his soaking coat away, and he walked past it as he went into the bathroom again, where he found a first aid kit.

Inside were bandages, and other things. He then worked on cleaning up Sam's ripped feet, her once perfectly smooth soles, now a bloody mass of ripped apart skin.

Sherlock was just putting bandages around her feet, his hands covered in blood, when Sam woke again. He looked up at her and moved to sit by her once he finished wrapping her feet.

"Sherlock?" Sam's voice was quiet, rough and tired as he sat next to her. She looked into his face, before her eyes drifted down to his hands, where they widened.

"You're bleeding." She whispered. Sherlock shook his head, telling her, "You were bleeding, Sam." Her eyes went back up to his face, before she said to him, "Your voice is shaking, Sherlock. You're scared?"

A feeble laugh escaped his lips, and tears started in his eyes as he whispered back, "Not nearly as scared as I was, but... yes. I am."

Sam closed her eyes, before trying to edge closer to him, but stopped when she found that she could barely move. Sherlock frowned, before asking, "Why, Sam? Why did you try to... murder yourself?"

"Because," Sam replied, not opening her eyes, "I'm pregnant, Sherlock. I didn't want it." Sherlock sighed and hung his head, clasping his hands together. When he looked up again, Sam was staring into his face, and he whispered to her, "I knew that you were pregnant. I was going to tell you."

Sam closed her eyes, and Sherlock knew that she had fallen asleep. So, he stood up and washed his hands, before changing his clothes. After he did that, he walked over to the fire, where he started a flame, before placing Sam under the warm covers.

He sighed as he figured out what he needed to do, and he didn't like the idea.