Author's Note:

I've realised that this chapter has the same title as a popular television series. I didn't notice at the time and I didn't mean to have any connection with it! But I don't really want to change it because it goes so well with this chapter! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chaper!

And please review? Even if it's just a word or a sentence, feedback is really appreciated! :)

Sherlock pushed open the door to Lestrade's office and stormed in, followed by John and Anderson. Inside, Mycroft was having a yelling competition with Donovan. Lestrade was sat at his desk, head in hands. He was obviously fed up and looked a second away from firing Donavon. John noticed Rebecca's absence almost straight away. He looked at Sherlock to see if he's noticed too, but he seemed oblivious.

"Finally!" Lestrade exclaimed, standing. "Donovan! Shut it! I've had just about enough of your voice today, thank you very much!" Then he turned to Sherlock. "And tell your brother to quieten down."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Why can't you tell him yourself?" Lestrade glared as Donovan turned back to Mycroft.

"You can't come crashing in here like you own the place, Mr Holmes! I'm sorry, but this is a police Station, not a fair ground!"

"Do you have no idea who I am?" Mycroft asked coldly.

"You're Sherlock's brother. And trust me, I feel sorry for you. But you don't have the right to come in here, bringing some crazy girl off the street with you!" Donovan yelled.

"Donovan, that crazy girl happens to be my daughter." Sherlock muttered quietly.

"I know." Donovan replied, smugly. "And she's as weird as you." Sherlock lunged at Donovan, held back only by John who held his grip on Sherlock's waist.

"Sherlock, don't be stupid! You'll get arrested." John said as he struggled to restrain his friend.

"Where is she?" Sherlock spat before turning to Lestrade and Mycroft. "Where is she?"

"We had to lock her up. She was going insane."

"She was screaming and crying. You should keep your child under control." Anderson muttered. Sherlock turned to face him, his face full of disgust.

"Do you want me to bruise your other shoulder? That way you'll be symmetrical."

"Sherlock! That's a warning!" Lestrade said as he sat back down in his chair, putting both hands on his desk. Sherlock sighed and pulled himself out of John's embrace.

"Will someone tell me what happened to Rebecca?" Sherlock asked, looking at Mycroft.

"She... got a little upset."

"She started digging up your wife's grave." Lestrade finished. Mycroft glared at him.

"Is she alright?"

"She's just a little shaken." Lestrade said. "Anderson, go and bring her out would you?" Anderson began to protest but one look from Lestrade made him shut up. Two minutes later he returned, pulling a wild fifteen year old behind him. She was a state. He clothes were covered in mud and her hair was soaked and knotted. As soon as she saw Sherlock she burst into tears and ran at him, embracing him in a tight hug. Sherlock slowly wrapped his arms around his daughter. This was the first hug he'd ever given her. Actually it was possibly one of the first hugs he'd ever given anyone. Then Rebecca whispered something to her father, just loud enough for John to overhear.

"I saw her, Sherlock. I saw mum... She...She" Then she began screaming and crying again. John looked at Mycroft.

"Mycroft, she saw-" Already Mycroft had gotten involved, pulling the father and daughter apart.

"Lestrade, put her back in the cell!" Mycroft roared. Lestrade nodded and hauled Rebecca up into his arms, taking her back to a cell. John kept hold of Sherlock, listening to Rebecca's echoed screams as they slowly got quieter.

Eventually Sherlock spoke.

"Mycroft, tell me."

"Tell you what?" Mycroft replied, no emotion coming across either his face voice.

"Whatever it is you're keeping from me!" Mycroft sighed and turned to Lestrade who had just returned.

"I'm leaving now. Sorry to have caused any inconvenience. I'll send someone round to sort her out." He grabbed his umbrella from where it had been leaning on the wall and began to leave. John let go of Sherlock. That was his first mistake. Sherlock ran at his brother and slammed him into the wall.

"Tell me Mycroft. I'm your brother! Tell me!" He growled. Mycroft stared calmly at him.

"Don't think for a second, Sherlock, that you can threaten me." He said before pushing past his younger brother. "Good day, everyone." He nodded and was gone.

Twenty minutes later Sherlock and John were back at 221b Baker Street. John had suggested putting on the kettle and was now fiddling with the plug.

"Sherlock, could you help me? The kettle's not working"" He called but got no reply. "Sherlock?" He sighed, put down the broken kettle and walked back into the living room. "Sherlock, didn't you hear me? I said I need help-" John looked at Sherlock. He had a tear trickling down his cheek. On the coffee table in front of him, lying open, was Irene Adler's file.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sherlock muttered, still staring at the file.

"I... I didn't want you to know."

"Don't you think I had a right to know?" Sherlock yelled. John winced, hurt by Sherlock's tone.

"I...I thought..."

"You thought it would be better to leave me wondering how she died? Why she died? Did it not cross your mind that I have been blaming myself for weeks? Because that's why I left, John! I left because I thought it was my fault!" He yelled. John didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was the most honest and pure thing Sherlock had ever said to him.

"Sherlock... I didn't..."

"Didn't what? Think? I got that much John! That's your problem! You never think!" He yelled and stormed out of the flat. John heard his heavy footsteps stomp down the stairs and then the front door slammed shut. John sighed and slumped down in his favourite arm chair. He then picked up the file that had caused him so mu h trouble lately and flicked through the pages again.

He gagged as he came across the picture of Irene's corpse. It was obvious how she'd been killed. She'd been skinned. By an old enemy, the file said. John remembered how Rebecca had looked at the police station and what she'd said to Sherlock. Mycroft had written in the report that the government hadn't seen a need to give her a coffin due to the body's condition. So if someone had dug deep enough...

John imagined what it must have been like for Rebecca to see her mother, skinned. It was horrible enough just looking at the picture. No wonder Rebecca had been crazy. He picked up his phone and dialled Mycroft's number.

No answer.

Instead, a text came through. He opened the message.

She's been taken to Broadmoor Hospital. How's Sherlock? MH.

Nooo! Sherlock and John had a fight! I know, it hurt me. I ship them so hard, it hurts my insides! What did you think of the chapter and the fanfic so far? Tell me please :)