The lady between Sherlock and I was still drugged and couldn't move. Although she was asleep and pale, I could tell who she was by the minute when I got my bearings to turn my head in the direction of Sherlock and the lady. It was none other than Mrs. Hudson! Her curly light brown hair, partially wrinkled face, and clothes style gave it away. I was not happy about how she was put in this type of environment. Though in the inside I was happy that she was here and alive. We needed our landlady a lot since she cares for us as much as we do for her. Sherlock let go of Mrs. Hudson and quickly got up. For me, I sat with her on the hay to see if she needed a doctor to help her out.

Sherlock shook his curly dark brown hair and long head as he put his left index finger on his chin. He was busy tapping on it. Even with Mrs. Hudson here, he did not even act surprised to see her. That's a sociopath for people who are around one. I check Mrs. Hudson's pulse from her right wrist. It was still beating, but a bit slow. The slowness was because of the drug that knocked her out. I sighed with relief at knowing that our dear friend is still alive. She is always a sunshine that can brighten anyone's day when going into the flat on Baker Street. At least, she was one of the normal ones who lived in the flat who was not crazy when living with Sherlock. Or she is... a bit.

I look over to Sherlock to see what he is doing. He was searching over the shattered chair with the big bear trap biting into it. Sherlock looked astounded by what had happened when now staring at it in the light. It was always good to have a light to see the actual thing, but not always. Being as patient as possible with Sherlock, I knelt by Mrs. Hudson's side with my left hand still placed on her artery in the wrist. Sherlock now began to whisper to himself which I could not hear anything. He kept doing this while he was looking over the scene and the tape player on the table. It surprised me to realize that the duct tape on the tape player did not name anyone, but it gave a clue about who would be in that chair. I then hear a groan picking up right beside me. I realize it is Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson's eyes fluttered open and she opened her mouth. She let out several cries and groans. Along with this she was clapping her hand on my left wrist. I had to say something to calm her down, "Mrs. Hudson! You're fine, you're fine."

"W-where am I? Is it my husband coming back to haunt me?" She said as she looked around and then she stiffened, "This place is a crackhouse! It must be my husband's."

She nodded as she said this and I shook my head in disbelief. I smiled as she was finally now calming down. Sherlock did not look over to see her, but Mrs. Hudson saw him and was asking, "John, why are you both in the crackhouse? Did my husband put you up to this too? I told him several times not to do that after he left. Did he listen? No! That bloke didn't care!"

"M-mrs. Hudson." I said with a stutter, "It's not your husband's doing. It's a man Sherlock and I don't know anything about." I stopped then added, "Except that he has cancer and is American."

"Oh..." Mrs. Hudson said sweetly, "Well at least my husband is dead and gone. Glad to see you boys are doing so well. Maybe even had a kiss or two. H-how did I get here?"

I look at Sherlock to see if he was paying any attention, but no. He was interested in other things at the moment. I look back at Mrs. Hudson and did my best not to scare her. I told her the truth.

"We aren't really sure about that either. Sherlock and I got locked up the same as you, but in a different room."

She blinked at me then looked down as she could not believe her eyes. She was probably thinking that we were safe and it was horrible for anyone to do this to anyone. She turned to Sherlock and said courteously, "Sherlock, I need you to help pick me back up."

Then Sherlock finally said something, "Not now, Mrs. Hudson. Have John do that. In the meantime, let's get going to get closer to solve the mystery about this man."

As with that, he walked away from the table and went off to where there was a wooden door. He turned the knob and opened it. Luckily, it did nothing this time. I picked up Mrs. Hudson alone and she said, "Lovely to see someone helping. I don't much help anymore. Once in awhile you two should help me with the flat sometime. I'm not getting any younger!"

I laughed as I looked at Sherlock feeling the edges of the wooden door. I knew that wasn't going to happen if I had dad duties to my daughter back home. So, Mrs. Hudson and I followed behind Sherlock as we stepped through an actual normal door this time.