Author's note- Thank you very much for all the reviews! To the reviewer who asked about the eating disorder: I mentioned it in passing in chapter six, and honestly, I half forgot about it because I was wanting to completely focus on the self harm side. I apologise! Also, I didn't want to throw a lot of problems at her because I didn't want to make it seem too much, what with being suicidal and cutting already if you know what I mean. Because I haven't mentioned food in this properly for quite a while, I will start to build on it now as I wanted to do some more character development with her!

And I am so sorry for not updating in ages, I've been really stressed at school and I've been dealing and struggling with my own problems. I may be getting a referral to CAMHS so hopefully that will help...

Please leave a review guys.

Disclaimer- I own nothing. OH BUT I WATCHED HIS LAST VOW AND OMG IT WAS JUST... I CAN'T EVEN... IT'S AMAZING OKAY. HELP.

By the way, this chapter is very dialogue heavy. It had to be done.

Chapter 27

John Watson sighed heavily as he ran a finger over his brow, a pen in his hand as he filled out a blood test for one of his patients.

"There you go Mr Smith," He said as he handed it to the young man, "Get the blood test done at the hospital and then we will contact you if we need to discuss the results." Doctor Watson smiled reassuringly.

"Thanks very much," Mr Smith gave him a grateful smile before taking his leave.

John sat back and stretched, happy that it was now his lunch break for an hour. He briefly wondered what Sherlock and Lucy were up to, but decided to find out when he got back from work in the evening. He had something else he wished to do. The good doctor made his way into the reception room of the local surgery; the room was empty apart from Sarah. The surgery was always closed for lunch for approximately an hour, so it gave him the peace and time to talk.

"Good morning so far?" She asked with a friendly grin as she tapped away at her computer.

"Not too bad," John answered. He took a breath, "I'm really grateful for the time off you gave me, thank you."

"No problem," Sarah looked up at him, "How is Lucy?"

"I honestly don't know." There was a pause.

"What is it John?" She asked him, concerned. John Watson rubbed his face, leaning against the desk.

"I'm worried about her and I don't know what to do." Upon seeing her questioning expression he continued: "She self harms, I think she may have depression, and I swear she is far too skinny to be healthy."

"Have you seen her eat much?"

"That's the thing, we've all been so wrapped up in this case, and I don't think we've really had the time to have a proper meal. And I assumed her lack of appetite was from the case and the problems with her parents. But thinking about it, I'm not too sure. I've seen her eat, but she barely eats anything anyway- certainly nowhere near enough for someone of her age." He frowned.

"Have you suggested that she should see a counsellor? I mean, it sounds like these problems could have come from all of that." Sarah offered.

"I have, but she seems so against it." He shook his head. "I'm pretty sure her self harming has gotten so much worse, and I'm scared that she may take it too far."

"John, if you're worried, and if it really is that bad- then you need to think about what to do for the best. Sometimes, you need to think about what is in her best interests, as Lucy may not know what is best for her. She may not like it, but if she's in danger then you have to do what is best." Sarah told him gently.

"I want to Sarah, I really do." John sighed, unsure.

"Then what's stopping you?"

"I don't want her to lose trust in me; I don't want her to hate me for pushing anything on her."

"John, maybe the best thing to do is talk to Sherlock." Sarah started, "He's close to her isn't he? Talk to Sherlock and suggest what you think is best and then see what he says. Maybe he could convince her to get help?"

"I might do that," John smiled, "I want to help her, I just didn't know how."

"Try that and see how it works."

"I will, thank you Sarah." He stood up straight, noting the time, "Do you fancy getting food with me?"

"Sounds lovely." Then she flashed him a smile, "But you have to pay."

"You're still making me pay for that time you got taken by those black lotus smugglers aren't you?" He laughed. She nodded her head, laughing with him.

It was late afternoon when Sherlock and Lucy arrived back at 221B Baker Street. They had about an hour until John came home from work so they had some time to kill. The two had stayed at the park for several hours, just talking about each other and messing around. It had been nice. It kept Lucy's mind off of things for a while, and that was a welcome relief. Usually her mind was racing, dark thoughts always intruded even when she was having a good time. But for a while those thoughts left, and she was grateful for that. And yet, as Sherlock unlocked the door to the flat, she found herself scratching at her arms, at the cuts that littered her skin. It stung, and she loved it. But it scared her, she needed it. Clenching her hands, she put them behind her back, tapping her fingers in a rhythmic motion to get her mind off of the thoughts that haunted her.

Just before they reached the stairs that led to their flat, Mrs Hudson came out with her usual cheery smile to greet them. Their landlady –and their not your housekeeper who cleaned their flat all the time- gave the two a warm hug before going back to her own flat. Sherlock smiled fondly after her before heading up the stairs with the troubled teenager in hot pursuit.

The consulting detective launched himself into his chair with a huff; he picked up his violin and sat there, plucking at the strings as he looked at Lucy.

"Do you go to school?" He asked her suddenly. He hadn't really thought about something so trivial before, but he was curious.

"I haven't been since my 'parents died'," She responded. Sherlock smirked as he could practically hear the inverted commas over the words 'parent' and 'died.'

"Hmm," He nodded thoughtfully, "What year were you in, or whatever it is nowadays?"

"I had just started my GCSE course, so I was in year 10. I had two years left. Year 10 and year 11 and then I would have finished."

"So you would still be in year 10 if you were to go back?" He queried.

"Yes," she responded carefully. "Why do you ask?"

"I only just thought about it. I tried to delete school several years back; it's a terribly trivial and all round dull thing. But I was curious as to whether or not you intended to go back." Sherlock said, stretching out his long legs.

"I expect John would wish for me to go back." Lucy sighed.

"You wouldn't want to?"

"Well, I would have liked to complete my GCSE's and have some decent grades. I was taking triple science, history, French and drama- as well as the compulsory subjects." She told him. "I enjoyed drama a lot, it was my favourite subject. I also quite liked chemistry." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "One day my parents took me out of school a week before they 'died' and I never went back. I'm not too sure what had happened. Mind you, I didn't particularly like the teachers or the students, but hey-ho."

"What about starting a different school?" Sherlock suggested as he put the violin down.

"I don't know. I suppose I am meant to finish school but I don't know." Lucy shrugged.

"My brother could always get you your GCSE's. He has his ways as you well know." Lucy burst out laughing at this.

"As nice as that sounds, I wouldn't cheat like that. I'd rather earn them." She smirked, but looked amused nonetheless.

"I hated school," Sherlock muttered darkly, "Full of idiots. Full of Anderson's. I was much smarter than all of the teachers obviously. Besides, I kept scaring them off and embarrassing them in the middle of lessons whenever they had picked on me. Mother wasn't best pleased when I had to move schools twice, but my father found it funny."

John returned to the flat after a fairly quiet day at the surgery, on his way home he had picked up a Chinese for them all to eat. John found Lucy sitting, watching a re-run of Doctor Who on the television, and Sherlock was in the kitchen experimenting on what appeared to be an ear.

"John!" Lucy looked happy to see him and greeted him with a hug.

"Hey, have a good day?" He grinned as he hugged her.

"Yeah, Sherlock and I went to the park for hours. We only got back an hour ago."

"Sounds good." John went into the kitchen. "Hi Sherlock, I brought some Chinese takeaway to eat tonight, as I highly doubt whatever your doing will feed us."

"Oh I don't know John, I'm sure there may be some nutrition in human ears soaked in citrus acid." Sherlock replied, looking up at him.

"I don't even know what to say to that." John said, shaking his head in amusement as he prepared the food for them all in the front room, away from ears and experiments.

All throughout the meal he kept an eye on how much Lucy was actually eating. His previous concerns now surfacing as he focused on her. John hadn't put a lot of food on her plate, but when she ended up leaving a fair portion of it, he was worried. Not that he was going to say anything. He asked if she was full and Lucy said that she was, so he left it at that. But he decided that one meal wasn't enough time to make a conclusion on her eating habits.

After they had finished eating, Lucy went off into her bedroom to have a bath for an hour or so- which was perfect as John wanted to have a chat with Sherlock.

John Watson made both himself and Sherlock a hot cup of tea as they sat in the front room in their favourite chairs.

"Sherlock, I've been thinking..." He started, but found himself immediately being interrupted.

"Always a dangerous thing John, I'm beginning to worry that you may be overworking your little mind." But a sharp look from his flatmate shut the detective up with a smirk.

"I was talking to Sarah earlier today and..." John sighed heavily, "I think Lucy needs help."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, she may not want help, but we need to do what is best for her. She needs help that we can't give her Sherlock. I'm scared that her self harming is going to get worse, I'm concerned with how skinny she is, and I'm worried about how her parent's and all of that has affected her. She isn't happy Sherlock. And I fear that she is going to get more and more unhappy the longer she goes without professional help."

"She doesn't want help though," Sherlock frowned, "She hates the thought of it."

"I know you don't think that professionals help Sherlock, but they often do really help people. I know she doesn't want help, but the truth is she isn't going to get any better without support. There's only so much we can do. She needs more than we can offer her. Lucy needs someone to talk to with complete confidentiality, someone who is completely impartial." John took a sip of his tea as he studied Sherlock's expression.

"I don't know how much a counsellor could help if she doesn't want any help."

"We have to give it a try."

"She's going to be furious."

"I know, that's what I'm scared about." John let out a breath, "But we can't let her carry on this way. And I was hoping that you may be able to talk to her."

"You want me, of all people, to try and convince her to get help?" Sherlock said incredulously.

"Not on your own. I will talk to her with you, but I just think she may listen to you more than me."

"Okay then."

"Okay?" John frowned, "I was expecting more of an argument than that."

"You're the doctor; you always know what's best for people." Sherlock quirked an eyebrow, "I trust your judgement. You have her best interests at heart, and as I have little experience in the area of counsellors and that, I think it's best to take what you say as truth." John found himself smiling slightly at his friend's words. "Oh!" Sherlock suddenly said, "Lucy and I were having a conversation as well."

"What about?" John frowned.

"School," Sherlock said with distaste.

"Yes, I was beginning to wonder about that." John murmured. "I think she should at least get her GCSE's."

"I told her that Mycroft could get her the grades with ease, but she refused." Sherlock told him.

"Ha!" John grinned.

"I thought it was a good idea."

"Lucy might want to get them herself." John suggested, Sherlock nodded so he continued, "Well we'll talk with her about that later as well."

There was a quiet pause as the two finished their drinks. But suddenly, Sherlock Holmes frowned with worry. John made to say something, but the consulting detective held up his hand, signalling for John to remain silent. No noise could be heard. But then a muffled, retching sound pierced the silence. It was almost impossible to hear. And you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't listening for it. But with wide eyes, both Sherlock and John jumped to their feet and raced to Lucy's room.

Maybe John's suspicions had been correct after all...

Author's note- I really struggled with this chapter, so I'm sorry if it isn't that great. I needed to get this all done, as to completely ignore school is unrealistic, and I think that the issues she has needs to be addressed in some way.

I do want her to perhaps go to school. Obviously, I won't make it completely about that at all, because this is primarily a fic about Lucy AND Sherlock AND John. So to focus on school would defeat the point. But I just felt like I should write it in, even if most of it isn't that important. But I have some ideas for it.

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