As the whole crowd filed out, John glanced around at them, noting that they all looked surprised, even the buffalo. He figured it had to be something very unusual to make them surprised. He stood off to the side and waited for the crowd to leave. He thought that he'd have to wait for Sherlock, but before the crowd was gone he got a terse text that said "Left. Don't wait up for me." John sighed, knowing that he was probably going to get high now his part in the trial was over. Once the crush of people had moved out, he turned towards the door but before he could take a step he heard from behind him "You must be John Watson." He turned to face Victor Trevor, who had a grim look on his face.

"I am."

"Mr. George told me to catch up with you. He'll try to explain everything later." Victor offered his hand. John shook it, and Victor spoke again. "You must be a remarkable person if Sherlock has let you get so close to him. I'd have never thought he could live with a roommate when I knew him."

"The case has made things difficult," John said carefully.

"I should have gone to the police then. I thought that just telling his mother might avoid a fuss."

"You did the best you could," John said, reminded of Mari's husband's friend's issues. "You were only fourteen years old."

"I understand that, of course, but that doesn't mean I don't wish it could have gone otherwise."

"At least you understand that."

He handed John a business card. "That has my mobile number on it. Please give me a ring to tell me how this all comes down; I'm going to Bangalore tomorrow for a few months. I'm not going to be shocked if Sherlock never wants to see me again, but I am concerned about him."

"Thank you," John said. "I'll keep in touch."

Both of them walked together to the exit doors, John going to hail a cab while Victor pulled out his mobile and said he needed to be picked up. John's ride home was silent and grim.

As soon as he walked through the door, Mrs. Hudson called out "I didn't expect you home this early." She headed into the hall, looking anxious. "Sherlock rang me to say his testimony was over and not to expect him tonight."

"He's probably going to get high," John said with a sigh.

"I think the occasion deserves a stiff drink myself."

"If that was all it was I wouldn't be so bothered by it."

"I know you wouldn't be. Why are you back now?"

"The solicitors all came up to the judge, argued, and then he closed court."

"She's going to plea," Mrs. Hudson instantly replied. "What happened in court to make her suddenly so worried about a conviction?"

"Someone who knew Sherlock when he was a teenager testified. They hadn't spoken in years and their stories matched."

"Good. Do you want some tea?"

"That'd be great, thanks." She hustled him into her kitchen and put on the kettle. John sat down in the nearest chair, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I suppose this means she's not going to get life."

Mrs. Hudson put a plate of biscuits down in front of him, then sat in another chair. "Would she have gotten life for a conviction? I'm afraid I'm not that up on the specifics of sentencing."

"I think so. Rape of a child is life." John nibbled at a biscuit. "I think it's the same even if it's not a child."

"If they give her twenty-five years it'd be just like a life sentence. She's almost sixty, isn't she?" The kettle whistled and Mrs. Hudson turned around to get it and pour the water into the waiting mugs.

"Fifty-two."

As Mrs. Hudson sat back down and placed the mugs in front of them, she shook her head. "And no one knew for all that time." From the way she said it it was obvious that she didn't believe that.

"One of the doctors at the clinic used to work with her. She said she thought it was strange that she had a policy to not let parents in on exams, but she never said anything about it because no one else seemed to mind." John wasn't entirely sure he should have said that, but it could hardly affect the trial at this point. "She did say if it had been a male pediatrician she'd have called the police."

"Maybe," Mrs. Hudson countered. "Lots of people think they'd do differently if there was one thing changed about the situation but most of them wouldn't." John must have had a stricken expression on his face, because she went on to add "Not that she would have done nothing no matter what, but people don't want to get involved."

John nodded. "I understand." He understood all too well.

Once he had finished his tea, John headed back upstairs. He rang Sarah to say that he thought the trial would be wrapping up soon and he hoped to get some shifts again, and then spent a quiet evening by himself. He texted Sherlock once to say that he hoped he would be back home soon, but predictably got no response. He wondered if he should sleep in Sherlock's room in case he came back, but instead he walked up the stairs and made himself fall asleep in his own bed.

When John woke up he looked at his clock and was surprised to find it was almost noon. The trial must have taken more of a toll on him then he thought. He checked his mobile to see if Sherlock had texted him. While he hadn't, there was a message from Lou. He sounded very happy as he said "Watch the news this evening for our statement. I am very pleased."

He came downstairs to see Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen. "I wanted to see how you were doing but I felt better letting you sleep," she said.

"It's fine. I just got a message from one of the solicitors for the prosecution. He said to watch the news this evening for their statement." He sat down in the nearest chair and Mrs. Hudson placed a mug of tea in front of him.

"Then it's going to be a plea, just like I said." She had a satisfied look on her face.

"I hope so. I wish she'd thought to plea before all the victims had to testify, though." He downed the tea in a few gulps.

"She probably thought that she'd get away free until that man testified." She looked directly at John for a second, and then promptly changed the subject. They talked for a few more minutes before she headed back downstairs.

Around three in the afternoon, John heard someone coming up the stairs. Considering all that had happened over the last few days, he wouldn't have been surprised if it was Mycroft, but in a few seconds Sherlock came through the door. He looked even paler than usual, dark circles under his eyes. His coat and the rest of his clothes were dirty; the only thing not dirty was Hamish, who was tucked under one arm. "Can you not be too angry at me?" he said before John could stand up.

"I'm not," John said truthfully. "Sad, but not angry."

"All right," said Sherlock quietly. He crept up to the sofa and lay down on it, not bothering to take his coat off, using Hamish as a pillow.

"You know that the trial is closed today, right?" John hoped the prosecution would have mentioned it to him, but in the furor it might have slipped their minds.

"Yes."

"They'll be on the news tonight."

"It's going to be a plea." Sherlock sounded so unemotional he could have been talking about the weather.

"Mrs. Hudson thought so too." John suspected the only reason Sherlock had come home was to have some support when the news came on.

Just before six, Mrs. Hudson came up, supposedly to retrieve her tea mug, but as soon as the evening news came on she sat in the remaining chair. "I can watch just as well up here," was her excuse.

The trial wasn't first in the news as John hoped it would be and while the stories that came on beforehand were normally things he'd follow with great interest, he was so preoccupied that he couldn't remember any of them later. He would never forget what happened after he heard: "One of the most talked-about trials of the year came to an abrupt end today." All three of them fixed their eyes on the screen as the reporter went on. "Kelly Martin was accused of a wide variety of sexual assaults of children, some as young as three years old. The CPS has released a statement that says a plea agreement has been accepted by the prosecution. The details of the agreement are not yet known, but prosecutor Lewis George said he was 'very pleased' with the results. Sentencing information will be released within a week. She faced up to fourteen years."

The screen went dark. Sherlock had the remote in his hand, and he tossed it on the ground. "She'll probably get five years. Her solicitors are smart enough that they wouldn't agree to a plea for less than half the time. Then of course She'll leave the country to avoid having to register. Thailand is cliche at this point. In the places of Africa She could get away with it there's a language barrier, and I know She speaks no French. Probably Jamaica, then. Close enough to the States to visit."

"She faced fourteen years? Rape of a child's life," John said with confusion. He deliberately ignored the comments about K leaving the country once her sentence was served. Mrs. Hudson took this as a sign to pick up her mug and leave.

"Not what She was charged with."

"Why not?"

"Look up the statute." Sherlock turned on the sofa so he was no longer facing the telly. He pulled out his mobile from one of his coat pockets and started to fiddle with it. Since he clearly didn't want to continue the conversation, John grabbed his laptop and decided to do just that. As he pulled up the CPS site Sherlock's mobile rang. "Yes, I saw the news," he said with no introduction. Josh suspected it was Phillip. "No, I understand. He's your brother and he loves you; he wants to see Her punished because She hurt you." Phillip of course was an only child; it had to be Moira Aherne. "You can feel that way if you want. Have you talked about it with your dad? I think you should do that too. Yes, I'd like to see that experiment when you've done it. Yes, I liked your card for me. Your dad's calling you? You should probably go, then."

Once Sherlock disconnected, John went back to the site. He started to read it out loud, not seeing anything wrong at first. "A person commits rape of a child under thirteen if he intentionally penetrates the vagina, anus or mouth of another person with his penis, and the person is under thirteen." He paused. "Oh."

"You see," Sherlock said.

"What was K actually charged with?"

"Sexual assault of a child under thirteen." John went to that part of the law and found that that charge did in fact have a sentencing requirement up to fourteen years, while rape of a child was life.

"I'm sorry," John said, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't," Sherlock replied without indicating what he meant.

They fell into silence for another fifteen minutes, until someone knocked on the door. Sherlock flung himself off the sofa to get the door. "I expected you," he said as soon as he opened it. His body blocked the door from view, but John was almost certain who it was and was not surprised when Phillip and his father filed in.

"He said he wanted to see you," Mr. Rodgers said.

"For very good reason. My room is down the hall. Shall we go there?" Phillip nodded, clearly on the verge of tears, and the two of them walked down the hall together.

Once both of them were out of sight, Mr. Rodgers said "He saw the news and he couldn't stop crying."

"It's been hard for him," John offered.

"I thought he'd be happier. From what little he's said to me he was terrified of that woman."

"He was. Probably still is. But until he met Sherlock that was his only friend. If your mother ignores you and the kids at school all tease you you'll be attached to that one person who gives you a party and wants to hear you tell about your day. That's worth all the rotten bits."

"And that's what they're talking about?"

"Most likely. They've both been through the same thing and have similar feelings."

"I wish I could go back in time to stop all that." He sighed. "We've got an appointment with a therapist in a week and I'm trying to find him a tutor. A psychologist did an evaluation for the trial and it came up in the custody hearing. He said that Phillip was quite intelligent but the ongoing abuse made it impossible for him to do well at school and affected all his social interactions with his peers. So I'm trying to get him caught up. I wouldn't tell just anyone that, but both of you know him well at this point."

"Sherlock more than me," John corrected. "He would trust Sherlock with his life."

"That's good, though," Mr. Rodgers said with a smile. "He's finally learning how real friendship works. I want to make sure they stay in contact."

"That's not going to be a problem. Phillip has his mobile number and Sherlock said he can use it at any time."

"Right now I'm concerned with getting him into the Arts Secondary School."

John widened his eyes. "That's going to be expensive."

"They already liked what they saw of his music and art. And he really needs a new place to study." Mr. Rodgers' words were cut off as Phillip and Sherlock emerged from the bedroom.

"You have my number. Use it any time," Sherlock said to a red-eyed Phillip.

"I will."

"And try to talk to your father. He cares deeply for you."

"I try," Phillip said in a whisper.

"I know you do," Mr. Rodgers said. "I think we should go back home."

Phillip nodded and pulled Sherlock in for a quick hug. "You're my best friend," he said.

"I understand," Sherlock replied.

"Thank you," Mr. Rodgers said before leaving quietly with his son. Sherlock slumped down in his chair once they were out of sight.

Recalling the conversation he'd had with Mr. Rodgers moments before, John said "It's okay if you have mixed feelings about the plea."

"Before I could. Think I could make it up to Her somehow," Sherlock replied in a staccato voice.

"You have nothing to make up. She's the one who got tired of you." When Sherlock didn't reply he added "There wasn't a way she'd take you back."

"Maybe."

"You'll be staying here tonight, though?" John asked.

"Yes. If you'll be there."

"I'll always be there," John said firmly.

"I know," said Sherlock.