!THIS CHAPTER IS RATED R FOR IDEOLOGICALLY SENSITIVE MATERIAL!

If you haven't noticed this story is rated M. And it is so for a reason, as you will learn from the first part.

So, this chap is a bit morbid, and probably pretty horridly written, but i was sick of the normal crap.

Tell me, do you think i'm rushing? I really could use a helper, or a pre-reader if you will. Just so i can post with more confidence.

ANYWHO!

Thank Yous-

Reviews: Undapper Thoughts, SummerJane'10,

Story Alerts: pricrema, Undapper Thoughts, wilde88, sarana-snape

HUGE thanks to all of you! You really are my motivators! When I get down and don't feel like writing anymore, I think of you all and it makes me keep on going!

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

sorry about the repeated warnings, i just don't want to get bitched at by someone saying I'm 'sick' or something.

I awoke to a thump and a muffled scream. I sat up, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and listened closely for the sound again. When the sound repeated, if was louder, and far more frantic sounding. I got out of my bed and slowly opened my bedroom door, intending to run to my parent's room in fear, when I heard one on my mommies cry out.

"Leave her alone, you bastard!"

A slap resounded. "Shut up, dyke!"

I swallowed hard, and slowly scooted down the hallway. I poked my head into my parent's bedroom, an action that, to this day, I wish I didn't do.

The sight that I beheld made me slap my hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming aloud.

My mommy was tied to the bed post, tears streaming down her face and mixing with the blood flowing from her lip, while Mama was on the floor, her face covered in blood and already starting to bruise and she was clearly unconscious. Above her stood a man in black. The Man In Black. Even when I grow older and learn his name, that he was our neighbor, that's always who he will be to me. The Man in Black with frighteningly furious eyes to match.

With on last kick to her stomach, The Man turned back to my mommy. He glared at her through his ski mask as he advanced on her.

"How dare you? How dare you fags raise a child? YOU CAN'T! Without a father, there is no family. 'Your' daughter will grow up to be a faggot like you and your butch girlfriend. HOW DARE YOU GAY MOTHERFUCKERS RUIN OUR COUNTRY? RUIN GOOD, STRAIGHT FAMILIES! YOU THINK YOU DESERVE TO BE TREATED EQUAL? YOU ARE MAGGOTS! MAGGOTS ON OUR SOCIETY!" He back handed her, causing her to yelp.

He was panting furiously when she smiled up at him, blood covering her teeth. "You know what's worse than two 'dykes' raising a child? A psychopath like you raising one. The worse our kid can become is gay, yours will have no choice but to become a crazy bastard like you. I say our girl wins."

He growled loudly, and pulled something out of his pocket. Mommy's smile dropped, as well as mine, when we saw the switch blade. "You're dead now, bitch."

He took another step closer when I couldn't take it anymore. I ran out from behind the door frame and jumped on the bed, flinging myself in front of my Mommy, as I screamed out, "NO! Leave my Mommy alone!"

The man was visibly startled, as he hesitated. Mommy gasped behind me and murmured, loud enough so the people in the room could hear, "No, no, no, no, no! GET OUT OF HERE ANAIS! Get out NOW!"

The man heard this and stepped closer, now hovering over us. "No, why don't you stay Anais? You need to learn something, too."

I gasped and flung myself upright. I screamed when I noticed a figure in black standing over me, their hand on my shoulder. I grabbed their wrist as I stood, twisted their arm around their back, and shoved them to the floor, my knee on the man's back. The man was shouting something, but I could hear what over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. Warm arms wrapped around my waist and, after a few attempts, pulled me off the man. I wriggled and gripped at the warm arms, trying to escape.

I finally was able to make out words, since they were being shouted in my ear. "Anais! RELAX! It's just me, John Watson! You're safe! YOU'RE ALRIGHT!"

John?

I relaxed into my new friends arms, confused and embarrassed. Once John realized I wasn't going to keep fighting he gently set my feet back on the ground and removed his arms from around my waist. I turned around and looked at him, then quickly looked down at my feet when I saw the expression on his face.

He was horrified. Absolutely horrified.

I glanced up through my lashes at Sherlock, who was pushing himself up off the ground and rubbing his wrist. He looked at me with intense confusion, wariness, and a bit of….worry? No, I must be projecting, or something.

I looked back at me feet, inspecting my thigh high boots that have suddenly become very interesting. Oh look, a scuff! I think I have some leather polish to buff that-

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What in the hell was that about?"

I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry…I'm so, SO sorry. Its….I just get nightmares sometimes, and I-" I look at the clock on the wall. 8 am. "Shit. I shouldn't have….I'm just going to go…"

I walked quickly to the couch to grab my scarf when my arm grazed Sherlock's. Long, slender fingers quickly curled around my upper arm, causing me to halt. I looked up at him, my face becoming even redder when I made eye-contact with his startling blue-grey eyes.

He spoke on four words, "What happened to you?"

He wasn't talking about my fit, I could tell in his eyes. He was asking about what happened to me to cause the fit. His face was neutral, blank, all for the burning curiosity his eyes screamed at me.

I stared at him for a second. I slowly replied, "Something that, even you Mr. Holmes, would be confounded by."

I looked at him intently until he released my arm. I then proceeded to grab my scarf and wrap it around me. I turned back around and regarded the two men. John's look of horror had turned into one of intense pity.

I kind of preferred the horror.

I forced a small smile onto my face. "Again, I'm sorry. Falling asleep on two strange men's couch and then attacking them when they try to help me is not exactly a good first impression. Though, I've never been good at making friends. I have only probably have ever had like two before." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I'll just go, and we can all just pretend we never met and this never happened, okay? GREAT."

I walked over to the coat rack, ripped my jacket from it and rushed out the door and down the stairs.

Well, I tried that is, but, once again, I ran into somebody and landed on my ass again. I sat on the hardwood floor, my head in my hands, and I groaned.

Why am I so awkward!

"Anais?"

I brought my hands from my face and glanced up at the, familiar, voice. "Uncle Greg?"

He considered me, brows furrowed, for a moment, before his hand shot out to help me off the floor.

"What in the hell are you doing here? I thought you went to look at a flat then go back to the house."

I brushed myself off, "Well, I was but I liked the apartment so much I rented it."

He quirked an eyebrow, "You rented a flat already?"

"Yep."

"You looked at it then, what, rented it 10 minutes later?"

I smiled dopily, "Well, more like 5, but pretty much, yeah. You know me, Uncle Greg. I have the attention span of a cricket. Besides, I felt like a bum living with you, even if it's just a few days."

Donovan popped her head over my uncle's shoulder, making me jump in surprise, "That still doesn't explain why you're here, at the Freaks place."

She spat the last part, making me tilt my head in confusion. "The Freak?"

A voice spoke behind me, making me jump, AGAIN. "That would be Donavon's loving pet name for me. It sad that's the best her Peabody brain can come up with. It's even sadder that she thinks it actually offends me." Sherlock's deep voice boredly drawled.

I blushed when I remembered the 'incident' which just occurred. I slowly glanced over my shoulder to see if Sherlock was going to turn his cruelty on me for being such a fucking ditsy tweaker.

How the hell did I ever get a PhD, let alone TWO?

Holmes' gave me a quick, very bored glance, before he brushed past me.

"Your niece seems to have inadvertently rented a flat down the street from 221 Baker Street. It's, what would you lesser fools call it? Oh yes, a 'coincidence'. Me and John were just coming back from helping solve your case, when we, quite literally, ran into her. We all had tea, made chit chat, became acquainted, and we were just ending the visit when you and your ragtag crew of idiots appeared. NOW, can we go to the new crime scene?" And with that, he walked out the front door.

I was shocked. From what I've heard, Sherlock Holmes is not on to pass up an opportunity to make someone uncomfortable, and yet he spared me. Why?

"How did we know we have another crime scene?"

We all, myself included, looked at Donovan. She rolled her eyes, "Right, he's Sherlock bloody Holmes."

Just so you all know, I am not homophobic or shared the views of my 'Man in Black'. I am actually Bisexual, and people of that evil, and filled with that kind of hate, kind disgust me.

~OhMyWatson