So sorry my dears. Betsy, yes I name my technology, decided to completely crap out on me. Hopefully she's all better now. However, that does mean that I lost the second and third chapters of this, as well as chapters for my other stories. So now I'm behind. Please be patient with me.

"John."

"John wake up."

"John!"

"M sleeping. Sh."

"Obviously not, or you wouldn't have answered."

"What do you want, Shlock?"

"For you to wake up."

I sigh and roll over, curling into myself.

"No, John, don't go armadillo on me. Wake up."

I crack open one eye and his face is inches from mine. "Little close there, Sherlock."

He stares at me, his sharp, ever-changing eyes watching me. "You were having a nightmare. It was a quiet one."

I sighed and closed my eyes again. Then I remembered earlier. "Lestrade tried to do a drugs bust. He shouldn't do that. It's not fair to bring up your past like that. How'd he even find out?"

I heard him shift around and move away. He didn't say anything. "Sherlock?" I sat up, more alert. He had moved to put his back against the wall and his knees were drawn up to his chest. "Sherlock, what's wrong?"

This wasn't normal. Not that he ever is, but this was abnormal even for him. I went over and sat beside him, wincing as my leg protested. (Stupid leg). He remained silent and refused to look at me. "Sherlock did something happen?"

Silence.

I gently took his head in my hand (the sling really needed to go) and turned him towards me, leaning forward until our foreheads were touching. "Sherlock... Did you get high?"

A single tear slipped of own his face. He answered in a thick voice, "Not on purpose."

"Tell me what happened?"

"It was a case. A teenager had O.D.'d. Or at least, that's what they thought. The kid had been murdered. And the mother knew it too, but she was to afraid to say anything. I investigated and when I got enough evidence I took it to Lestrade. He didn't want to believe me, he was overloaded with paperwork because a superintendent had just recently been killed. All resources were being devoted to that so I continued investigating. The man, the one who killed her, Davis or Dave or something like that, somehow knew about my past. He attacked me shortly after I visited the Yard. About a mile away, actually. He pumped enough heroin in me to knock me out. An officer on the way back to the Yard saw him run off. She called an ambulance. But I broke our deal. I got high and you paid the price."

By the end of this his voice had become so strangled as to be nearly illegible. He started rocking slightly, a sign I recognized quite well. I pulled him into a one-armed hug and ran my hand through his hair. "Sherlock, that wasn't your fault. That was just bad timing. Sh-Sh...that wasn't your fault. Nothing about that was your fault. You did the right thing in finding justice for the kid. Hush, now."

I placed my chin on the top of his curls and sighed. This was going to tale quite a lot to fix.