Again, I am so sorry about how short the last Chapter was!

Tweenty minutes later John and Sherlock were crawling out of the cab as Sherlock tossed some money at him. They made their way inside as Sherlock led John to Lestrade who was back in the room with the woman. Sherlock pointed at the glass and John took a step up, letting out a gasp of shock his hand flew up to his mouth. "When you said it was a girl I thought you were talking about a little girl, like a child not a full grown woman!" John took a step back not being able to watch her much longer. "She looks to be almost as old as you. Maybe give a year or two... How did she get like this?"

Sherlock handed John the girls case file, Sherlock had nicked it when Lestrade hadn't been looking before he left, he had read it on the way to John's needless to say it had made him a bit sick. John, a bit more prepared this time, flipped through her file. Like Sherlock he had to look away when he saw the pictures they had taken of her when they found her at the house. The first picture showed the girl coward in a corner that was caked in dirt, the wall surrounding it had what looked like fresh and dried blood. John tore his eyes away from the first one to look at the next one, this one showed what looked like a hole in the ground with a couple of blankets around the hole, this picture also had some writting at the bottom of it. Hole we found the girl in, possibly her bed? John had to reread the last word a couple times to realize he had read it right. She slept in a hole? No wonder she was so pale, he must have kept her in a basement of some sorts, where there was no propper floor. He flipped to the third, this one was of the girl again, of course John didn't realize it at first, she was curled into the smallest ball he had ever seen a person roll into, and she had the raggiest blanket covering her, there were more holes than fabric, he could also tell that what she wore in front of them was the same thing they had found her in. John closed the folder and set it down on a desk close by. "He kept her in a basement?" John finally was able to speak.

"Closet, next to a fireplace. You saw the hole I take it." Sherlock said, much more stiffly than he normally would have, John noticed.

"Yes, I did. You're taking this quite personally Sherlock. You feeling alright?" John asked, trying and failing at hiding the slight amusment that was in his voice.

"Don't be silly John. I'm the same as I ever was." Sherlock said once again taking off his coat and scarf and laying it on the table before straightening up. "You should take yours off as well. She would be safer I believe." Sherlock said nodding to John's coat. Smirking John did as Sherlock said and removed his coat, laying it next to Sherlock's. Sherlock waited until John was standing next to him to open the door.

Lestrade was sitting crouched as Sherlock had been before when he had gotten her to talk, his head turned towards Sherlock and John as the door opened and closed, losing his balance he slipped to the side and fell. "John, what are you doing here?" Lestrade asked.

"Sherlock asked me to come, has she said anything to you while you were down there?" John asked a smile played on his lips.

"Sherlock did it and got her to talk, thought there might have been something to it." Lestrade stood up and walked over to John and shook his hand. "How's Mary?"

"Well, and Mycroft?" John asked sitting in one of the chairs looking over at Miss. Collins.

"Same. Didn't know when Sherlock said Doctor he was still talking about you." Lestrade said, though he did not sound upset about it, in fact he sounded a bit releived.

"Wouldn't think of any other. What were you trying to get her to tell you?" Sherlock asked crouching back down as he did before and making his way over to her.

"I was just trying to get her to tell me more about what went on in that house. I mean she herself is good enough proof he was abusing her, but having a spoken testimony would be much better." Lestrade said sitting back down in one of the chairs.

Sherlock turned back towards Miss. Collins who seemed to remember him, as she didn't cringe or look away, but she didn't release her legs from her chest, keeping them close to her. "Miss. Collins?" Sherlock said softly as he did before, he saw her eyes dart over his face. "I would like you to meet a friend of mine. His name is John." He waved to let John know to come over, not breaking eye contact with Miss. Collins. He heard John do as he did and crouch down and slowly make his way towards them. The entire time Miss. Collins didn't look away from Sherlock just watched him with quiet eyes. As John grew closer she looked over at John and her eyes popped open wide. At first Sherlock thought it was from fear as was going to move John away but she reached out and poked the bushy mustache that had made it's home on his friends lip. "I don't think she's ever seen facial hair before," Sherlock said letting the obvious amusement fill his voice.

"Very funny." John said, not amused. Miss. Collins poked John's mustache again, Sherlock thought she looked as if she was trying to decide if it was alive or not.

"Bug." She said, poking it once again. Sherlock snickered, John shot him a look that could kill.

"Glad you think its funny. Want to get her to stop?"

"You're a big boy." Sherlock remarked. "Can't you get her to stop yourself?"

"She obviously likes you." John said, "She seems to trust you, why I have no clue. Probably because you haven't faked your own death on her yet."

"You really need to bring that up again? Honestly I thought we were past that." Sherlock said with a small roll of his eyes. The girl, catching on to their facial espressions stopped messing with John's mustache and sat back watching them.

"You just think that because you come back and act like nothing happened means it didn't. That everyone was just going to be the same way they were before you left." John said looking over at Sherlock, Miss. Collins followed John's gaze and looked at Sherlock too. "I got married. Married Sherlock." He placed a finger in the air waving it towards Sherlock, Miss. Collins did the same. Neither saw her mocking John as they were too absorbed in dealing with Sherlock's greatest annoyance to John. It was only when Lestrade's laughter brought them out of it that they saw her shaking her finger at Sherlock, a very firm look on her face that matched John's. The tension between Sherlock and John dissapated as they both laughed. Miss. Collins stopped as she saw John was no longer angry at Sherlock and flushed red at being the joke.

Sherlock sat on the ground, crossing his legs and moved so his back was resting against the same wall she was leaning against, he was pleased to see she didn't move away from him. As the three men stopped laughing her face became serious again as she looked at Sherlock. "No hurt." She pointed to John. "Hurt bad." Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at her scolding him. She was quite adorable under the dirt, and still seemed to have kept herself after all the abuse.

"You're in trouble now," John kidded. "She told you off. Hurt bad."

Sherlock nodded looking at Miss. Collins. "Hurt very bad. That's right." He looked over at John. "Hurting people is bad."