She couldn't stay in the bathroom for ever. Olesia knew that eventfully she would have to leave and confront everything that was outside these four walls. But as she looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Olesia could not get her feet to move from where they currently were. It was the sight of her face and the state that it was that which prevented Olesia from moving. The cuts and bruises all over her hands and arms were nothing compared to how her face looked. Olesia should have been shocked at the sight of herself in the mirror but she wasn't. The fact that her hair was a complete mess and the busted lip should have been causes for concerns but for Olesia they weren't.

It was more the gaping sized hole in her memory that was the issue as for Olesia the last 24 hours were a bit hazy. Olesia had no recollection of the injuries she had sustained and the fact that she was now in London in her uncle's flat instead of being at school in Surrey.

Was it related to her epilepsy? Olesia wasn't certain. There was no denying that she had a seizure, that much Olesia knew given that she had been told as such along with her fuzzy memories and how god awful she felt. Her stomach was in knots and she had a small headache. That was nothing new and Olesia was more than used to this post-ictal state of herself. It was really the gasps in her memory long before the seizure that concerned Olesia as in the nine years of being epileptic she had only ever had two seizures that were severe enough for her not to remember an entire day. But those had happened years ago.

Fuck's sake.

Locking herself in the bathroom all day wasn't going to solve anything, being in here had served it's purpose already. Olesia had showered and cleaned herself up as best she could although her clothing choices had been rather limited. It was either the hideous plastic white suit she was wearing when she arrived at Baker Street or 'borrowing' some clothes from her uncle. Olesia went for the latter. The t shirt and the pyjamas that were way too long for her. But at least she would be comfortable and she was somewhere safe. That was the silver lining in this rather grim situation.

Olesia slowly began moving her feet, and as she approached the bathroom she opened it with a hesitation that was somewhat foreign to her. What on earth was there to be so scared about? Why was she so anxious about what was beyond this door? Olesia knew what lied beyond this door. She was at 221b Barker Street. Even though she wasn't a rather frequent visitor, Olesia had been here countless times before. The only thing that was going to happen was that Sherlock was going to call her some kind of moron and berate her for a few minutes for the inconvenience that she had caused.

Standard practice really.

It was nothing new and yet Olesia felt fear when it came to….

Pull yourself together girl! It's a bloody lecture… You get them all the time.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Olesia turned to her left and quietly followed the hallway until she reached the kitchen. It was empty, no sign of life but scattered every where throughout the kitchen were traces of Sherlock. Signs of his odd quirks.

There was chemistry apparatus covering every square inch of the table and some liquid bubbling inside a beaker with a bunson burner on underneath. Sherlock was clearly in the midst of some experiment. Olesia didn't want to know the details so she walked past it, choosing to follow the faint sound of voices that she could hear coming from the living room.

It didn't take long for Olesia to reach the living room and once there she found the source of the voices she had been following; one of them was naturally Sherlock and the other;. John Watson. The doctor. A stranger who had shown Olesia such kindness when she had came around from her seizure. Olesia could vaguely recall him sitting on the ground beside her, his weary but kind face greeting her with a smile. Dr. Watson had been the one who had explained what had happened to Olesia and had been very gracious about the whole thing.

The two men were standing by the window in the far left corner, having what appeared to be a very in-depth conversation but they stopped talking the moment each of them became aware of Olesia's presence. Sherlock glanced briefly over at Olesia and her eyes met his briefly before the two of them both awkwardly looked away. The situation was embarrassing enough for Olesia without either her or Sherlock making the situation worse by trying to make small talk.

"Olesia, how are you feeling? If you don't mind me asking."

"A few hours short of being myself again, otherwise okay Dr. Watson." Olesia allowed herself to admit, being somewhat truthful about the matter without going into too much detail. However, the truth of the matter was that she felt awful and it would be probably be another day before she actually felt like herself again. But if she said that, a fuss would be made and Olesia really didn't need that. All she wanted was to go home and forget that this day had ever happened.

If she remembered correctly Dr. Watson was a soldier who had returned home from the war and was now Sherlock's roommate. At least that was what Olesia recalled reading from a file that Mycroft had left laying around on his desk when she was visiting home for the weekend a couple of months. Olesia hadn't read it properly, she had glanced through it very quickly but she was certain that she had read something about a sibling or two. She wasn't too sure. There was a lot of military jargon that had gone over her head and medical reports.

"John please." Dr. Watson stated with a welcoming smile before motioning for Olesia to take a seat.

"John then."

This time Olesia gave John a genuine smile back as she took up his offer to sit, her whole body still ached and to be honest she didn't feel a hundred percent steady on her feet yet. Olesia shuffled over to the sofa on the adjacent wall and took a careful seat, tucking her legs underneath her. Settling herself into a position that was comfortable enough for her to sit and in quick position to get herself to the door and make a quick exit if need be.

The good uncle was yet to say anything. Sherlock was still over by the window doing god knows what and if Olesia didn't know any better she would have assumed that he wasn't listening but she did know better. He was always listening.

"Is there anything you need? Something to eat? Or for us to get in contact Mycroft."

"I appreciate the concern John but honestly I'm fine, and there's no need to get Mycroft involved. Even if he were to become aware of what happened, it's not like he would actually come." Olesia replied in a brisk manner, the subject of her father was not something she felt like discussing. It was rather pointless any way as she had been raised in a way that meant it was perfectly fine if she was alone.

"He's your father." John stated, a hint of concern etched on his face.

"You say that like it's supposed to mean something." Olesia laughed quietly. For the first time in what seemed like it was forever Olesia laughed as John had just said something that was quite possibly the funniest thing that she had ever heard. He's your father.

As if Mycroft being her father meant that something special was supposed to have happened. But then it hit Olesia, John wasn't like her. He was mostly likely raised in a somewhat normal family environment where parents were actively involved in their child's lives and took interest what they were doing. But Olesia was being raised, or rather had been raised by the most indifferent man that she had ever come across. The two of them didn't have the most typical father daughter relationship, although Olesia would use the word father-daughter rather loosely when it came to her and Mycroft as she saw the man known as her father a handful of times a year such as family birthdays or school holidays and of course when she was in some kind of trouble at school that Olesia couldn't get herself out of.

Mycroft only ever showed up when his presence was required. Her having a minor medial issue was not something that was pressing enough to require his immediate attention. The man was a very busy man with running the British government and all.

"Enough with the mollycoddling John. It's tedious and nothing will come of it except encouraging Olesia that her escapades are suitable methods of entertaining herself despite the inconvenience she causes to others." Sherlock drawled in an irritated tone, stepping away from the window and for the first drawing his full attention over to Olesia.

"Still incapable of having a polite conversation, I see." Olesia snorted in amusement before awkwardly readjusting her seating position so that she was in a slightly more comfortable position.

"Is that any way to thank me? I do recall you saying to me earlier that you would and I quote 'If I got you out of your sticky situation then you would sacrifice yourself on the alter of dignity later'. I believe we are now at the later part." Sherlock boasted and all Olesia could do was narrow her eyes ever so slightly as whilst that did sound like something she would say, she didn't quite believe she had said that.

"Isn't that a bit too much of exaggeration, I know you like to always be right Sherlock but is that not too much of a bold face lie about whatever in school suspension you've saved me from." Olesia dismissively replied with an indifferent wave of her hand.

"What did you do Winn?"

"Don't call me that."

"Then answer the damn question!"

Olesia bit her tongue. Okay, this was really bad and it was beyond obvious by the dark look on Sherlock's face that she was really pissing him off. The smarter than thou Uncle was even pulling out the Winn card to drive his point home. Olesia couldn't remember the last time that Sherlock had called her that name. Winn. Short for Winnick which was one of Olesia's middles name. It was an old family name that Olesia used to go by and something Sherlock only ever used when he was seriously angry with Olesia which was a rarity in itself, irritated with Olesia frequently was a given. But angry? The two of them didn't spend enough time in the close proximity with each other for things to escalate to the point of being angry,

"Can't you figure it out?" Olesia jeered, her face contouring into an aggravated scowl.

Fuck. Olesia knew that poking the bear wasn't the best thing for her to do, but the words came out of her mouth before she knew what she was doing. Well… That was a bit of a lie but she was tired and felt miserable without Sherlock jumping down her throat with some outrageous accusation. Sherlock gave Olesia a pointed look which was enough to tell her that somehow she was already pushing her luck with him. She didn't have the strength to go head to head with Sherlock at the moment. In terms of intelligence Sherlock was superior but on a good day Olesia could hold her own against her uncle in terms of volleying insults at him. Today, however was not one of her good days. Olesia knew that to save herself from getting into further trouble she needed to tell him something, anything that was plausible for him to believe.

Olesia sighed and shrugged her shoulders in defeat. "Fine… You got me, I went to a party and I took something then things got a little out of hand. You know me, always doing these kind of things because I am a desperate little girl craving daddy's attention like the Freudian cliché that is my entire existence. It's no big deal."

Sherlock let out a small scoff. "Stop wasting my time by lying Winn."

"Me? Lying, I would never..." said Olesia sarcastically, rolling her eyes in a dramatic manner for good measure.

"As always, very funny Winn, how like you to gloss over details for the amusement of yourself and your little friends. I would tell you to grow up but you seem to like behaving like you are still thirteen."

"Whatever I did, it was probably not the end of the world that you are making it out to be so relax already! Your starting to sound like actually care." Olesia retorted with a small groan, pinching the bridge of her nose for good measure. Her head was still throbbing and all these questions weren't making things any better. The Q and A portion of this day was tiring and Olesia didn't have the strength to be rallying insults back and forth with Sherlock like they were playing for the championship point at Wimbledon.

Was it too hard to get some peace and quiet for a bit? The interrogation could wait for a few more hours. Whatever was done, was already done. There was nothing Olesia could do to change it.

"No big deal? Olesia, you were arrested by the police." John began in a slow manner and Olesia diverted her attention away from Sherlock and looked at John in an indecorously manner. Her arrested? That couldn't be right. Could it?

"Arrested? What the hell are you talking about? I got kicked out of school. That's what Sherlock is pissed about because my damn school had to call him because they can't get in contact with my old man. Right?" Olesia demanded, but the vacant stare on Dr. Watson's face and the unreadable expression on Sherlock's face let her know, she was extremely off base.

"You don't remember?" John questioned and Olesia couldn't help but shake her head as her memory was still hazy in some places.

"No. My memory isn't the most reliable after a seizure but after an hour or so I'm generally fine, minus the events leading to the seizure. I've not had a seizure in while and it's rare for me to black out huge chucks, tends to only happen when I've taken a nasty fall. The last thing I can properly remember is ditching my 5th period German lesson, which was… Yesterday."

Oh shit, that meant it was Saturday. That explained a few things and also created a headache for Olesia. She hadn't been expelled, which on the bright side of things was a good thing however that meant she hadn't been where she was supposed to be for at least the last twelve hours. God forbid her school reported that Olesia was missing and it got back to her father. He would ship her off to Switzerland quicker than she could say Swiss Cheese.

Olesia needed to get out of here, she needed to come up with some kind of plan to get herself back to school. There was no asking Sherlock, Olesia already knew that she cashed in too big of a favour from him to be asking for another one so soon.

"Tell me again what happened Olesia."

Olesia couldn't help but narrow her eyes at Sherlock. "I think we just covered the fact that I don't recall."

"You may not recall how you came to be in police custody but you know how those bruises came about." Sherlock coolly stated and Olesia couldn't help but swallow the mother of all lumps in her throat.

He knew. Shit. Olesia had to get out of here. NOW. Awkwardly forcing herself to her feet, Olesia tried to make her way to the door in an effort to escape but her uncle, as difficult as ever blocked her path. She couldn't take him, at least not like this. Any other day Olesia would feel pretty confident in herself. But not today.

"She does?" John questioned.

"First thing any rational person in Olesia's state would do is ask what happened. Yet she hasn't. In the time that we've been with my niece, not once has she asked how she sustained her injuries because it's not something that has caused her alarm. In fact it was something that she was expecting to see. What has triggered an emotional response from Olesia is being picked up from the police. That was something that she hadn't planned for. A school suspension is nothing new to her. Like Olesia said, she is nothing but a desperate little girl craving attention and what is another expulsion to go with the previous four. Whatever happened has to do with her school, why else would she refuse to disclose any thing that has happened.."

For Olesia, it was like her whole world was on the verge of crumbling. What was about to happen next was something that she did not like to be on the receiving end of, and yet was very much familiar with it. She closed her eyes and wished to be any where else but here. Anything would be great round about now, the ground opening up and swallowing her whole or more realistically another seizure.

God! Why could she not be related to normal people?

"D-Don't do this. For gods sake let it go, I beg of you." Olesia quietly murmured. although she knew it was going to be in vain

He ignored her. Of course Sherlock was going to ignore her.

"The bruises. Some are clearly quite fresh but the majority are at least a week old judging by the colouring. The location and the pattern indicate that you you were grabbed by multiple assailants but you didn't make things easy. Defensive bruises along your hands and arms tells me that you fought back, hard. Back at the police station, you winced when you stood up and since then most of your movements have indicated muscle soreness. Although most of your injuries seem to be attributed to your upper body. The cuts on feet and lower legs suggest that you were running, and add that to your other injuries suggest that you, Olesia were running from something. Something that has you scared-"

"-I'm not scared of shit!" Olesia blurted out.

Fuck! She really shouldn't have said that. Olesia knew that this was bad as she have done anything else but that. There was the option of saying nothing or making counter accusations. Making a denial that outrageous only humiliated Olesia and made her out to be an even bigger idiot than Sherlock already thought she was.

"But there is something going on at your school Olesia?" John questioned.

Olesia couldn't help but let out a weary scoff. "It is not some school yard bullying if that's what you are thinking of that, if only it was that simple.

"Then what is it?"

"Kyni̱gó̱"