i hope you all enjoy this chapter :) I'm updating early because I was desperate to get out of doing work... which now i have to do...

"So can you tell me why you called me?" Lestrade questioned. I was still silent trying to assemble the equitable story I was to tell him. He continued to sit there and I could tell he was contemplating standing up. I didn't want him to do that so I spoke expeditiously, slurring the words that tumbled out of my mouth.

The first thing Lestrade asked me was where I last knew Father to be. I pointed over towards the wall littered with all of his papers and maps and pictures that had to do with the case he was working. Lestrade stepped past me, brushing my back with his hand as if to comfort me, he then faced the wall above the sofa that I was previously sulking on. He looked at everything examining each paper, all the highlighter marks, the arrows drown back and forth. He traced his finger on the outline my Father had made of a map around London. He took in the pictures of the young woman, Jenna Fields, in the picture he was looking at the young lady was looking behind herself frantically. It was hard to tell because of the quality of the camera but you could see the outline of a gun in her pocket. The photo located below that one, showed two bulky men running.

"That's all that he has…" I said feebly. I was not too sure what kind of help I needed to give. He was after all, the detective not me. I could hear Lestrade mumbling about how "Sherlock always had to go off and solve the crime," and "He walked into this one." He turned around to me and I could tell he was very stressed, more so then when he had arrived at 221b Baker Street.

Looking at me he gathered a deep breath, "Okay so here's the deal," I nodded my head so he knew he could continue on, "Your Father took a case that was classified government information, I don't want to even know how he got it, Mycroft would never have given it to him." He shook his head in baffled amazement.

I just wanted him to get on with it.

I just wanted to know where he was.

I just wanted to find my parents.

"Anyways," Lestrade continued sensing my growing anxiety. "This, well for lack of better terms, bastard, decided to take it upon himself to solve this bloody case even though we warned him. The git thought he could solve!"

I just wanted to know where he was.

And why he was there.

And who had called my dad.

I didn't care about 'classified information.'

"Where is he then?" the inpatients was pushing its way out of my mouth. "Where are both of them?"

I knew Lestrade was angry at this situation but I needed answers. Badly.

"Hamish, the thing is…." Oh god, not this again! I just want an answer!

"Well you see…" he tried finishing but only drifted off not knowing how to complete his statements.

"Yes? What is it?" I begged.

Lestrade rubbed the back of his head and his eyes flicked over to the grandfather clock over the mantle. The clock ticked away the seconds that passed in silence. Finally, he gathered his thoughts, "You may want to come with me to St. Barts. It might be easier to explain all of this."

I wasn't too sure what there was to explain. I just wanted an answer, and yes maybe to was to much to ask for, but he could at least try to help me look for them. I just wanted someone to help me and now we were going to St. Bartholomew Hospital.

The first time I ever visited St. Bart's was when I was ten. Father had been begging Dad to take me and every time Dad said I was too young. I was not aware of what St. Bart's was but I was curious and I wanted to find out, so I also joined in on Father's begging. It took a while for Dad to crack though because by my tenth birthday he had said it was okay and so the next day we took a visit to this relatively new place, but not so new to everyone else.

I was in awe.

The pristine white walls and the shinny floor the nice receptionist at the front desk who gave me a lolly. Yes, those were the simplistic aspects but it also was interesting in a way that only a young child can understand. When we got to the floor and the room, fourth floor room five to be exact, my Father was absolutely giddy. This was apparently a big dream of his, to take his son to visit the morgue.

I was personally repelled at first but then I saw the way, Dad was looking at me cautiously and the way Father was gleaming at my with a bright smile. So I smiled back. Even though I didn't like it at first it grew to be one of my most favorite places to visit.

It was very simple then.

A/N: Now i must do work! Fun...

I've also been revising pervious chapters, it's not necessary to reread them i just added some new detail and I'm just fixing errors i had.

Please Review! :D