"No, no... please. Not there... not again. I'll be good, I promise!... I won't do it again... just not that... please!" She begged as the pair of doctors dragged her down a dimly lit corridor and towards a large metal door. The air was still and cold, chilling her to the very core but no matter how hard she thrashed against their hold, no matter how loudly she pleaded with them, they didn't stop. Instead, they carried on pulling her, not caring that her bare feet were dragging across the polished floor.

"Come on, get in." One of them said, his voice deep and rough as they carelessly tossed her into the room and into the open arms of an elderly nurse who merely smirked sinisterly at her.

"Now, now dear. You know this is all for your own good." She tried to fight but it was no use. Before she had time to blink, she was restrained, the metal chains cutting into her wrists as she thrashed helplessly against them.

"Pl-please... Don't... Arghhhh..." Her pleasing was cut off, turning into a shrill cry of pain as the electricity made its way into her head, forcing her eyes to clamp shut in a vain attempt to block it out. The pain was excruciating; tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking them yet the orderlies in the room took no pity on her. They simply watched her with glee filled gazes.

"N-no... please... no... h-help... HELP!" Luna screamed, jolting up in her bed. Instantly, she looked around the small room, her chest heaving in fear and burning from lack of oxygen. A moment later, the door was thrown open to reveal two shadowy figures. In fear,she scurried off of her bed and into the corner of the room, forcing herself as far back as she possible could, her hands creeping into her hair so she could tug it viciously; the pain acted as an anchor.

"Luna..." Joan murmured, flicking a switch and flooding the room with a bright, yellow light before rushing over to the trembling teenager and scooping her into her arms. Whimpering, the young girl buried her face into the older woman's chest, her shoulders shaking with sobs. "What's wrong?"

"Nightmare." Sherlock stated, completely unaffected by the glare his girlfriend was giving him.

"Sherlock..."

"Oh come on love, its obvious. She's sweating, almost hyperventilating, tugging on her hair as a means to distract herself from the nightmare she's just lived through and her pupils are dilated in fear. If you can find any other diagnosis to fit these symptoms, please, share." Instead of answering him, she glanced down at her shaking charge who still hadn't stopped shaking. Sighing, she settled to stroking her hair, throwing a look to the consultant detective who nodded, knowing what she was hinting at.

When he was gone, she slowly moved Luna back though keeping hold of the top her arms, letting her know she wasn't going to leave her.

"What were they about this time?" Luanna refused to speak. Instead, she settled to staring over Watson's shoulder but the older woman knew that this was merely an attempt at getting out of speaking. "You know that you can either speak about them freely or I can take you back to Dr Johnson...".

At the mere mention of his name, the teenager's shoulders began to shake even more; all the remaining colour drained completely from her face.

"P-P-Please... not him... not again... not after last time... no. I won't go..." she mumbled quietly to herself, trying to escape Joan's hold but it didn't waver. She had had enough experience with the young woman to know that leaving her alone in this state could be dangerous. Not to her or Sherlock but to the patient herself.

"Then tell me."

"T-The room with the lightning." was her meek reply. Not needing to hear any more, her companion scooped her into an embrace; this was how Sherlock found them both.

"I've taken the liberty of putting the kettle on... if either of you happen to be interested."

When the young teen saw the consultant detective, she quickly composed her face into a cool mask of indifference, something he would be proud of. After wiping away the stubborn tears that clung to her cheeks, she released herself from Joan's arms then inclined her head at the older man.

"My apologises for being a moron." With that said, she brushed past him to go get herself a cup of flavoured tea.

"An admirable performance. She can hide herself well."

"Don't Sherlock."

"Don't what?"

"Don't try and twist this like it's a good thing! She shouldn't be bottling it up! If she does, she'll ever learn to deal with what happened to her." Sensing how upset his girlfriend was, the detective placed an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

"Allow her to do what she feels is best."

"B-B-"

"She'll soon figure out that she needs you. I came around, didn't I?"

"You're different."

"You're right," he admitted with a small smile playing on the edge of his lips. "She's younger. She'll realise sooner than I did."