Monday and Tuesday went by both slowly and quickly. On the plus side, Sherlock didn't even attempt to leave the flat. He didn't do much of anything else, but he made no effort to try to escape. Instead he spent hours on the sofa, or in his chair, or even in his bed, staring off into space. He ate nothing and only drank a few sips of tea or coffee. He didn't even try to turn the television on. But he did appear to fall asleep at night. He only spoke once on Monday, to inform John that Mr. Rodgers had been successful in court that day and Phillip would be going home with him. For most of Tuesday he didn't say anything at all.

John was the one who lay awake over the next few nights, staring at the ceiling. He could only think about the crowd in the courtroom: the media, the buffalo, all the others that would be there. He kept thinking of the person who'd dared to laugh when Phillip testified. He couldn't protect Sherlock from something like that. On Monday, he hadn't watched any telly at all, so there would be no chance of something about the ongoing trial coming up. Mrs. Hudson kept the newspapers from them. On Tuesday he only watched a bit of the news when Sherlock was dozing in his room. Of course what he'd seen had mentioned the trial; the announcer said that one of the victims who had testified that day had considered killing K after a friend who lived on the streets with him committed suicide, since she had bought time with both. He only changed his mind after being arrested for solicitation. From that John suspected the victim was James Warren, the rent boy. He had a terrible feeling that the friend who had committed suicide had been made to do something to another child by K. It took away his desire to watch any more news.

Sherlock woke up a few hours later, just when John was about to head off to bed, and spoke for the first time that day. "What should I wear tomorrow?" he asked, like a small child.

John stared at him for a second in shock before saying "The best suit you own."

"When should I get up?"

"The same time as me."

"What should I eat for breakfast?"

It finally dawned on John that Sherlock was so overwhelmed by the trial that he couldn't even make the simplest decisions. "You don't have to eat anything."

"Can I bring anything?"

While he didn't specify what he meant, John knew. "You can bring Hamish if you want."

"You'll be there?"

"I'll be out in the audience the whole time. Just look for me if you get nervous," John reassured him. "Are you going to be up for much longer?"

"No." He yawned, something John had never seen Sherlock do before.

"Because I'm going to bed."

"I'll come with you." And while John thought he'd just lie there awake, Sherlock actually fell asleep before he did. John hoped he wasn't going to lie there awake like the past two nights. Thankfully, Sherlock's even breathing was enough to lull him into sleep.

As soon as he woke up, he saw Sherlock in the corner of his eye, sitting up, making no effort to get up. "I'll take a shower first," John said to break the silence. "You can get out your clothes and put them on the bed." He suspected that Sherlock was just as overwhelmed as he was yesterday, and needed directions.

John showered, shaved, and got dressed in record time. He didn't want to leave Sherlock alone for too long. When he got out he was pleased to see Sherlock had at least gotten out his clothes. "Take a shower," he told him. "If you're not out in twenty minutes, I'll knock on the door." John remembered well how red his skin had been after that one nightmare. Sherlock nodded and headed for the bathroom. He came out in precisely twenty minutes, looking ghostly pale instead of red. He did get dressed without further prompting.

John headed to the kitchen to make coffee. Sherlock came in holding Hamish and stood off to the side. He didn't ask for any, and John didn't offer him any. Once John had finished his own coffee, he said "Let's go hail a cab. We should get there as early as possible so we can talk to Lou and Susan." They both headed out the door. Before they left Sherlock got both his coat and scarf and put them on. It was hot already and the temperature was only going to rise, but John decided not to comment on it. Mrs. Hudson stood out in the hall, but didn't say anything to either of them.

Sherlock was quiet for the whole cab ride, although he clutched Hamish with white knuckles. However, as soon as he got out at the court, he stumbled on the curb. "I can't do this," he said as John helped him up.

"Yes you can," John reassured him. "Phillip did it. You can too. Just keep your eye on me."

At that moment Lou and Susan both arrived. "Good to see both of you," Lou said in his typical cheerful tone. John nodded in their general direction. Sherlock said nothing.

"There's not much to go over. With any luck we can get through the direct and cross today and move on to our next witness. I think you should get a seat in the courtroom now," Susan told John. "Near the front."

"Good idea," he said, and headed straight to the room. It was unlocked, but no one was there, not even the buffalo. John felt odd sitting in the front row, since the buffalo had a monopoly on it, but now he was right in front of the witness stand where Sherlock couldn't miss him.

The buffalo trickled in as usual, and while some of them gave John dirty looks, most of them just took their typical seats. No one asked for his space, and John assumed some of the buffalo hadn't shown up. The other watchers didn't seem to notice a difference. It seemed like such a short period of time between when he had sat down and the time usher cried "Court rise!" that he took a second to get to his feet. He did not look back at the dock. Of all the days he didn't want to see K, this was the one he least wanted to see her in.

"The prosecution calls Sherlock Holmes," said Susan once she got to the front of the court. The usher led him in. The usher was a small man, even shorter than John, which made the sight of him leading in Sherlock even more odd. Sherlock hadn't taken off the coat or scarf, and he still clutched Hamish to his chest. John suddenly thought of the person who had laughed at Phillip and prayed they weren't in the courtroom that day. If they were, they didn't laugh this time. In fact, there was nothing but silence in the room. Sherlock looked so young, and he had an expression on his face that looked like a scolded child. He did appear to see John, and fixed his eyes on him instead of Susan. John smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

"Can you state your name for the record?" Susan asked first. It wasn't something she'd done before in the case, and John figured she asked it so Sherlock could compose himself.

"Sherlock William Scott Holmes," he said in a hoarse whisper.

"And what is your profession?"

"Consulting detective."

"And you grew up in the Yorkshire area?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me about one of your earliest memories?"

Sherlock squeezed Hamish tighter as he said: "When I was four years old my brother went to school..." and proceeded to tell the story he'd told John about when he'd met K. Since John was in the front row for the first time, he could clearly see the buffalo's expressions; most of them looked shocked even though they'd been at the trial for every day John had been there.

"Did she invite you to come back?" Susan managed to keep her voice even.

"No. I came back myself."

"Why?"

"Because I was lon- I wanted company." Sherlock looked up at John, and he smiled back at him in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"What did she say to that?"

"Said that She couldn't get rid of me, and asked me to help in the garden. I did and I got to climb the trees. Sometimes She'd pick me up and spin me in the air. Always said 'round and round like a teddy bear' then." The poor grammar merely heightened the clipped tone of his voice. "She'd touch me between my legs. A little each time."

"Did you ever go inside the house?"

"Not at first." Sherlock fixed his eyes on the ground. "After a few times She invited me in for a drink and a biscuit."

"And that was it?"

"No."

"What happened after that?"

"I went into the living room after I ate and looked at the bookcases. She came in and said that since I always had a bee with me I'd like one of Her insect books. She took the book off the shelf and said I could have it for a kiss." John had expected him to say something like that, but his stomach still sank with dread.

"And did you do that?"

"Yes."

"How did you kiss her?"

"On the cheek."

"And that was that?" Susan asked, clearly thinking it wasn't.

"She said I needed to practice more. That I needed to kiss like a grown-up. Then She said She'd show me that, and She kissed me back."

"On the cheek?"

"No."

"How?"

"On the mouth. Lips open, tongue out." He said it in a monotone. "Then She asked me about my brother."

"What did she say about him?"

"Asked me if I loved him and I said I did. She asked if he was at school and I said yes. Then She said it might be better to not tell him we were friends. He'd gone away to school and he'd come back and think he knew everything and would try to stop me from going there. I asked if I had to not tell Mummy too, and She said that as long as I didn't tell her anything that went on with us it'd be okay if she knew I was friends with Her."

"Did you tell your mother anything?"

"Just that I'd made a new friend."

"Did you say anything to your brother?"

"No. But he saw me with the insect book She had given me and he asked me who I'd gotten it from." With every word of testimony Sherlock seemed to speak more in the voice of a frightened child.

"What did you tell him?"

"I'd found it."

"Did your mother ever ask about the book?"

"No, never."

"How often did you go there?"

"A few times a week at first. But after a year or so I was spending almost every day there, at least when my brother wasn't at home."

"Did your mother say anything about that?"

"No."

"What did you do there?"

"I got to read all kinds of books. She made nice things for me to eat and let me sit in Her lap and we'd watch telly together. Even after school She was always glad to see me and wanted to hear about my day. She let me have a chemistry set there since my mother wouldn't allow it."

"Was that all you did there?" Susan gently asked.

"No."

"What else was there?"

Sherlock looked down and took a big, shuddering breath. He was silent for almost a minute and John thought that the court would have to recess, but he started to speak again. "Inside. She would spin me around too. But then She'd have Her other hand in my pants."

"And was that all?"

"No."

"Tell me about the rest."

Sherlock seemed to pale even more. "I didn't know how to hug. I couldn't tell where the arms went. She said She'd teach me that. So we'd hug every day. Sitting down sometimes. And She kept teaching me how to kiss. Then one day She said it was hot since it was the summer. So She asked me if it was okay if She took off Her clothes. I said yes and She did. Then She asked me if I was hot and I was. She said it was okay if I took off my clothes because She was a doctor and I didn't have anything She hadn't seen before. So I took off everything but my pants."

The court was deathly silent. John usually heard the buffalo whispering to each other on occasion, but now there was nothing at all. When Susan said "What happened after that?" it echoed through the room.

"I, um, looked at Her." He paused. "Then She asked me if I'd ever seen a woman without clothes before. I said no. She said it was normal to be interested and I could look at Her all I wanted."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"Did you do anything else?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Touched. Just a bit. I was just curious what it felt like. She said I was a naughty boy, but She laughed when She said it so I knew She didn't mind. Then I sat down on the sofa and She gave me a kiss."

"Where did she kiss you?"

After a long silence, Sherlock finally said "On the front of my pants."

"And that was all you did there?" Susan asked again, obviously willing to repeat this exchange as much as she needed.

"No.," Sherlock said again.

"Tell me about the rest."

"She..." He stopped. "She, after that said we could kiss like grown-ups and She showed me how. Between my legs and Hers, with your lips and tongue." His discomfort was palpable, and John noted that he couldn't seem to make himself say "penis." "And we did that for a while when I came over. But when I'd been going there for a few years I said that I loved Her and I'd done that before, because She liked it when I'd pretend She was my mother, but this time I said I wanted to marry Her when I grew up."

"What did she say to that?"

Another very long silence. Sherlock finally managed to come up with "She said that as soon as I was eighteen we could do that if I liked. She said you had to be that old to get married. But if I wanted to now we could start acting like married people did."

Sherlock trailed off, and Susan finally prompted him with: "What happened then?"

Sherlock's eyes widened and he visibly shuddered. "We went to Her bedroom and She told me to take off my clothes, and I did because She always asked that. Then She told me to lie down on the bed, and She took off Her clothes and got on top of me."

"That was all she did?"

"No. She moved and made some noise. I was sticky afterward. Then She let me sit on Her lap and said that that made us married. I asked Her if She'd always love me and She said She would."

"After that what happened when you went there?"

"Different things."

"Did you just describe all of them?"

"Most. Sometimes She would take pictures of whatever we did."

"Is there anything else?"

"It wasn't there."

"What else went on wasn't at her home?"

"No."

"Where was it?"

"Her doctor's office in town."

"What happened there?"

Sherlock brought both of his arms up and squeezed Hamish tightly. "I wanted to go there because She always talked about Her work and I wanted to see the things there. So one Saturday when She went in I went with Her. She showed me some of the things She used to check blood and for bacteria and I liked that. Then after a few visits when we were done with those things we went into one of the exam rooms. There was -" He stopped abruptly, swallowed, and went on. "A girl was already in there. Lying on one of those tables with the paper on them. She told me to say hi."

"Was the child there for an exam?"

"No. She told me that the girl's mum and dad let her come in to see Her. She never said the girl was there for a exam or a medical but everyone thought that."

"Was the girl dressed?"

"A pair of knickers. The girl said hi to me first. I didn't."

"Did Dr. Martin say anything?"

"That I needed to do what She said, and we'd talk about it later."

"What did she say to do?"

"Touch her."

"Touch the girl?" Sherlock nodded. "Where were you supposed to touch her?"

"Between her legs. Use my hand there and kiss her on the mouth."

"How did the girl react to this?"

"She asked if she was going to spend time with Her after, and She said that once I left they could."

"So she didn't seem bothered by it?"

"No. She even asked if She was going to take pictures."

"What did she say to that?"

"Yes She would, and She did."

"How long did you have to do that?"

"For a few minutes. The little girl laughed and said I made it feel nice too. The whole time She took pictures." His whole face had gone red.

"And once that was done?"

"I went back to Her house. She said She'd see me there in a bit."

"When did she get back?"

"About an hour later."

"What did she say then?"

"That I probably didn't remember it, but when I'd first met Her I'd tried to get Her to touch me between my legs. That when I'd come over to Her house I'd try to get Her to do that and more. That She finally let me because She thought I'd hurt someone else if I didn't get what I wanted." Sherlock turned his head to face the inside of the witness box. "That She thought I needed to get it out more and if I didn't I'd hurt someone. So that's why She brought me there with the girl."

"Did she specifically say that?"

"She said I was a psychopath, but only about sex." John expected Susan to ask another question, but instead Sherlock went on. "I asked why She had to take the pictures and She said that if I got too bad She'd have to send them to my brother so he'd know what a problem I was."

"Did you go back to the office?"

"Yes."

"Did you do the same things?"

"Mostly. Different kids. Some of them seemed used to Her and some of them were asleep. A few got really upset and cried."

"Did you ever tell someone what was going on?"

"Once."

"Tell me about that."

Sherlock looked down and clutched Hamish to his chest tighter as he began "When I was thirteen..." and proceeded to tell the story of Victor Trevor that he'd told to John all those months ago.

"Your brother came home from university when this happened?"

"Yes."

"And did you tell him who you had said all those things about?"

"No."

"Did he even know who she was?"

"I'd said things about Her to him a few times. I once said I loved Her and we were going to get married."

"How old were you then?"

"Eight, I think."

"But he didn't bring her up when he came home?"

"No."

"And as far as you know your mother never told him who you had been talking about?"

"No. She died a few months later."

Susan nodded at Sherlock and walked back to the prosecution's table. Judge Foster banged his gavel and said "The court will recess for one hour," and Sherlock took a few very obvious deep breaths before he was led off by the usher.