As Joan wrapped herself up in a spare blanket and curled up on the small couch, Kitty handed her a small cup of fresh tea before sitting herself in the small chair across from Joan.

"May I ask you something?" Kitty sounded genuinely confused.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you agree to stay with Sherlock for as long as you did?"

Joan had been sipping at the tea and almost slipped a little on her lap when she heard the question. "What do you mean?"

"You were a skilled physician and surgeon before the... 'incident'," Kitty was trying to be sensitive to the topic. "and you continued to utilize your medical training by acting as a sober companion and Sherlock became your client. Why did you stay with him after you fulfilled your obligation as his companion?"

"Well," Joan put the tea down on the floor since there was no nearby table. "I found his line of work to be fascinating and rewarding. As a sober companion I was able to help people recover from their addictions, but working as his partner I was able to help families gain a sense of peace and closure after suffering atrocities."

"You find solving crimes far more lucrative than working in medicine? Seems like a rather odd career path for one to take."

"I won't deny that it's been strange, but I don't regret it."

"If you hadn't met Sherlock, would you still be a sober companion?"

"I don't know. I suppose I would. Why do you ask?"

Kitty clenched her hands into anxious fists and stared at the floor near her feet. "It's complicated. Forget I asked."

"Kitty, you can talk to me. Don't shut down, please."

Taking in a deep breath Kitty struggled to calm her nerves. She knew that by opening up about her trauma she would be able to work through it easier, but it would never truly go away. "When I was in London..." She took another breath. "When I was attacked in London, I was never the same person afterward. Very few people understand what it's like to be a victim."

"Survivor." Joan tried to correct her. "Kitty, you survived and still with us. Don't forget that."

"'Victim, 'survivor', regardless of the term the pain is still the same, as are the looks of pity that was pour down upon you by your own family and friends."

"I'm sorry."

Kitty laughed a little. "Everyone is sorry. Everyone feels bad. But nobody knows what to say or how to act, as if I'm carved from glass and require only the most delicate of touch."

"I didn't know." Joan was genuinely sympathetic toward Kitty's plight.

"No one does. But Sherlock, he didn't treat me like a victim or a survivor. He treated me like a person. I respect his demons and he respects mine. I've yet to be able to say that I trust him, but he is the currently the only man that I can trust because he's currently the only man of whom I respect."

Joan felt a little guilty, she knew she had looked at Kitty like a victim from time to time. Now it was her turn to open up. "Sherlock treats me the same way."

Kitty finally looked away from the floor and toward Joan. "How do you mean?"

"My own family and friends treated me like I was a fragile, frail shell of my former self after I chose to resign from the hospital. It was difficult enough trying to explain my reasons for becoming a sober companion, but when I chose to become a consultant for the N.Y.P.D. made for a very awkward conversation."

"I can imagine." Kitty smiled a little. "I guess we both chose to start our lives anew and the only person who understands this concept is a man who had chosen to do the same."

"We're lucky. He had to start over alone, when we started over we both had him to help guide us along the way."

Shrugging her shoulders Kitty finally relaxed and adjusted her posture in the chair. "I doubt he'll see it that way. Sherlock doesn't really strike me as a protective 'big brother' type."

Joan smirked a little. "I don't think he sees himself as a big brother either. I think he sees us as pieces in a very large puzzle."

From upstairs in his bedroom Sherlock found himself drifting somewhere between dream and wake. Despite his exhaustion his curiosity about the potential conversation between Joan and Kitty was too temping to ignore. Though a struggle he was able to focus his attention on the muffled voices from downstairs in the study and piece together a few words.

Eavesdropping is a specialty of his, as is lip reading.

He remained still in his bed, allowing his body to rest while his mind still raced. The very idea of being viewed as an older brother was less than appealing yet an intriguing notion that he was willing to expand upon.

"Are you still going to the support group?" Joan wanted to know more about Kitty's private time.

"Occasionally. I understand the reason for its existence but being reminded that I was attacked and that all the other women who are sitting next to me were also attacked does not build confidence nor security."

"Keep going." Joan finished her tea and placed the emptied cup on the floor again. "Sherlock was resistant to sobriety meetings, but in the end he found them to be somewhat beneficial."

"I hope you're right." Kitty checked her phone for the current time. "It's late. I'm tired. I wish to retire for the evening."

"Wait, before you go, I have one more question."

"Alright." Kitty glanced at Joan curiously. "What would you like to know?"

"After you put Sherlock in the shower, why did you stay with him?"

Kitty bit as her lower lip as she pondered over the question. "I'm not sure to be honest. Perhaps the idea of showering away ills is still a compulsion lingering from my... 'incident."

Joan wasn't convinced but could tell by the look in Kitty's eye that she wasn't lying either. "Okay. Good night."

Kitty turned to exit the room but stopped short and turned her focus back to Joan. "Might I ask you a question?"

"Shoot." Her voice was very calm and unguarded.

"When you two were partners, I know you took care of him when he fell ill or injured, during those moments did he ever ask you a relatively strange question?"

"Like what?"

"While we were sitting in the shower, he asked me if he was a good person."

Joan's eyes widened. "I know he's asked me odd questions from time to time, but nothing so..."

"Insightful?" Kitty finished.

"Yeah. What did you say?"

"I didn't know what to say, so I left the question unanswered."

"Must've been delirium from the fever." Joan tried to dismiss the emotional question as nothing to be concerned.

"You're probably right. Well, I won't keep you awake any longer. Goodnight Watson." Kitty turned on her heel and glided out of the room.

"Goodnight Kitty."

As Kitty left the study Joan leaned back on the sofa and found herself milling over the bizarre question: Is Sherlock Holmes a good man?

...to be continued...

Author's Note: One more chapter to go! I appreciate your patience in my updates and the encouragement to keep on writing! I am truly overjoyed to know so many people enjoyed this story! :)