Note: Short chapter is short.

That night, they decided to get Chinese takeout. Lara tried to pay for it, but they wouldn't let her. You're our guest, they said. They hadn't wanted to risk calling her a child again. While they were eating, or rather, while John was eating and Lara was pretending to eat, Sherlock got a call from Lestrade. Apparently the remaining man who attacked them had snapped and spilled the beans.

When the three of them got to Scotland Yard- Sherlock and John tried to keep Lara at the flat, but she insisted on coming- they were greeted by a very stressed DI Lestrade. He took them to a room with a few computer monitors, and showed them the interrogation film.

"Who are you working for?" The voice belonged to Sally Donovan.

"Jim Moriarty."

"And what are you supposed to be doing, by his orders?"

"We were supposed to bring Sherlock to him, but the little bitch got to him first."

"Who are you referring to?"

"The girl."

"What girl?" Sally was getting frustrated.

"I don't know, she was sent to protect them." At this, Sherlock turned to look at Lara, but only saw the door shutting behind her. Not willing to let this slip, he briskly followed her. John, seeing where this was going, asked Greg if he'd be willing to show them another time, and then followed Sherlock. All John had to follow was the flip of Sherlock's overcoat as he ran around corners, trying to catch up to Lara.

Sherlock was frustrated, no, angry, he was angry. And confused. Why was he so confused? This should be easy. Mycroft. He must have sent her. No, that made too much sense. Suddenly he saw her turn around a corner. He started running towards her, and she broke into a full out sprint, but she couldn't run as fast as Sherlock. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into an empty office.

"Who sent you?" Sherlock was not yelling, but there was fire in his eyes and voice. Lara said nothing.

"Who sent you?" He yelled this time, and Lara flinched. She started backing into a corner, Sherlock grabbed her arm to stop her, and that's when her eyes went wide, and her face grew terrified.

She wasn't looking at Sherlock, she couldn't see him or hear him. Suddenly, she fell the ground, screaming. She grabbed onto a desk, and pushed it away, and starting kicking and screaming. Sherlock had a fairly good idea of what was going on. He had provoked a very unpleasant memory, and Lara was having a flashback. She started crying, flailing her arms about, begging for something to stop. Sherlock tried to soothe her, but with no use. She was crying and screaming uncontrollably now, clearly in pain, and she had managed to slap him in the face and scratch him a few times.

"No! Please, stop! No! No! Please-" Lara continued to beg for the mysterious pain to stop.

"Lara! Lara calm down!" Sherlock's voice. "Lara, please stop. Please. You're okay, calm down."

Lara was on the floor, lashing out. She started to hear Sherlock, and slowly stopped screaming and flailing about and opened her tearstained eyes and saw him, kneeling on the ground next to her. "What… What's going on?" She asked. Lara looked up at Sherlock.

"I was just… My dad… I… He…"

"You were screaming."

"It hurt… It hurt…" She buried her head in Sherlock's chest. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her. A moment later, John walked in. He looked around and saw a violently shaking Lara engulfed in Sherlock's arms. John was jealous. Wait, he was? He pushed the thought aside. Something was wrong with Lara.

"What's going on? Is Lara okay?" John quickly walked over and knelt down beside them. Sherlock gave him a look that said, No, she is not okay, we need to do something.

"We need to take her to the hospital," John continued. Sherlock shook his head no. Our flat, he mouthed.

"Lara? Lara, you're okay, we need to go now," Sherlock spoke with a soothing voice John didn't know he was capable of. Lara nodded her head. Sherlock helped her up and she quickly walked away from the both of them. John followed behind, feeling useless. Leaving the building, they passed Lestrade.

"What is going on?" He asked.

"I have no idea. Sherlock hasn't told me what happened. We're taking her back to the flat."

"Alright, I guess. I would recommend a hospital."

"That's what I thought too, but Sherlock said no. I'll keep you updated, I guess."

"Yeah, please do." Poor girl, he thought.

John hailed a cab while Lara stood silently next to Sherlock. They all got strange looks from the cabbie on the way home, but by the time they arrived home, they had gotten Lara to talk.

She sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, holding a glass of water she wasn't going to drink. John sat across from her, in his chair, and Sherlock sat next to her on the couch.

"What happened?" John questioned her.

"I… I remembered. And… and, I tried so hard to forget…"

"Forget what?"

"What he did to me."

"What did he do to you, Lara?" John was speaking as calmly as he could, he didn't quite understand what was going on fully.

Looking at Sherlock, she said, "Make a deduction." Quickly, she removed the blanket, set the water on the coffee table and stood up. "Goodnight." She walked into Sherlock's room and closed the door behind her. John almost got up after her, but Sherlock motioned for him to stay.

"She did that to me the first night she stayed here."

"She sure is… Something else."

"Mmm."

"Blimey, what are we going to do, Sherlock?"

"Find out what Moriarty wants- besides us!"