AN: Hey guys so I published this before but decided that I hated it. Well, I decided I liked it again so here it is again. I hope you enjoy it :D

Chapter 1

Lestrade was worried. He hadn't heard from Sherlock in a whole week. Now that fact alone had put him on edge but what made him more anxious was that he had tried to contact the detective about a new case and had received no reply. He had even left the man a voicemail detailing the gory nature of the crime scene as well as informing Shelock that the elite of Scotland Yard were baffled by the case. On a regular day the description of the case alone would have Sherlock running to the scene but the fact that Lestrade had admitted defeat would mean that Sherlock would normally be at the Yard as fast as was humanly possible. Even if the case didn't interest Sherlock, a week without work would have driven the detective insane. He knew from experience that to leave Sherlock without work for more than a few days would lead to extreme consequences as a result of his boredom. He remembered the time last year when Sherlock had been without a case for four days and had turned up at the Yard without warning. For the next two days Sherlock had gone around to different detectives insulting their work and their intellect. Finally after the two days were up a new case had arisen that Sherlock could work on and the terror had been over. After those two horrible days Lestrade had tried to put Sherlock on as many cases as possible to avoid another boredom induced trip to the yard.

Lestrade feared that Sherlock may have slipped back into old habits again. Lestrade had first met Sherlock about five years ago when the man had burst into the Yard proclaiming loudly that they had arrested the wrong person for the murder of a woman who had been found stabbed over thirty times in her London apartment. They had arrested the woman's husband and believed him to be the one to have committed the murder after finding out his wife had been having an affair with her boss. They assumed it was out of jealousy. Sherlock informed him that it was in fact the dismissed maid who had killed her. She had, in fact, been having an affair with the husband. The husband had broken off the affair after a few months and dismissed the maid. The maid had, in her anger, killed the wife and framed the husband for the murder. After Sherlock had fully explained the reasoning behind his claims and informed them of his ability to deduce things Lestrade had offered him a job. Sherlock had refused to take any money but said that he would be willing to come and consult on any cases that interested him and so the deal was made.

A week after Sherlock had shocked everyone with his deductions Lestrade had met the consultant's brother, Mycroft Holmes. Lestrade had been walking down the street when his mobile rang. An unknown number showed on the screen and curious as always Lestrade answered. The voice on the car was that of a man and it said to him

"Get in the car Detective inspector. You are in no danger, I simply need to talk to you about the matter of one of your employees by the name of Sherlock Holmes." The voice explained to him. A black car pulled up in front of him and even though he knew it was reckless, he got in. He was then taken to a warehouse and it was there that he met Mycroft. The man explained to him that he was concerned for his younger brother and told Lestrade of the man's past relationship with drugs.

Sherlock's past had never seemed to be an issue for Lestrade before now. Yes there had been scares where Mycroft had rung him up and informed him that Sherlock was having a 'danger night' as he called it and that he may need Lestrade's help. Yet there had never been any real reason to be concerned as it had always been the case that as soon as Lestrade had gone to Baker Street that Sherlock had been perfectly fine. Lestrade usually stayed with the man for a few hours, just to be sure, but Sherlock always seemed to snap out of whatever stint he may have been in as soon as Lestrade turned up. However in the past week Lestrade had begun to worry that this time was different. He worried that Sherlock had slipped and that no-one had noticed. Lestrade wanted to make sure that Sherlock was not dead in a ditch somewhere or high out of his mind in some back alley.

These worries were what led Lestrade to take the cause of action that he did the next day. He led a team of five officers from the Yard into 221B Baker Street on the pretence of a drugs bust. Mrs Hudson was out at the time and this therefore meant that the six of them made their way up the stairs undisturbed at the bright and early hour of nine am. The drugs squad were not too impressed when being told that they had to be ready to start a bust at that time in the morning but it was the only time Lestrade had free. This led to a few of the detectives from homicide volunteering to help out. Not out of the goodness of their hearts, of course not, but rather because they had somehow found out that the raid was to happen at the Holmes' abode. This lead to both Donovan and Anderson being on the team. Lestrade didn't bother to knock as Mycroft had given him a key in case of emergencies and the idea that Sherlock might be using again was most defiantly an emergency. As the team entered the flat Lestrade noticed that it looked a lot tidier that the last few times he had entered it. There were still dirty dishes on some of the surfaces in the kitchen and books scattered throughout the living room. The difference now, was that there were no longer any half finished experiments that looked as though they may explode at any minute. The kitchen table was no longer covered in toxic substances and there were no body parts spread around the place. This surprised Lestrade as he had never thought Sherlock could change the habits of a lifetime and become a more organised person. Then again it was probably the work of Mrs Hudson. She had after all always been concerned about the state Sherlock left the flat in. Maybe she had finally put her foot down.

"Alright team, let's go." Lestrade said clapping his hands twice as he did so. He knew that in reality any drugs that Sherlock had in his home were most likely hidden too well for his team to find, but the possibility of them being found may just give Sherlock the wake up call he needed. Sherlock did not like people seeing him when he was weak and having six possible people to see him weak would give him motivation to sort himself out. They were about half an hour into the search when two of the team said they were going to go and investigate the upstairs room. They made their way up the stairs while the others remained downstairs. After about five minutes or so the group heard a yell and then a crash followed by another crash coming from upstairs. The other three team members looked at Lestrade for guidance on what to do and then followed him as he stormed up the stairs. The scene that greeted them was unexpected to say the least.

One of the members of the team was slumped against the wall with a hand clutching his nose and blood trickling through his fingers. The other was kneeling on the floor, his arm twisted behind his back and a gun at his temple. Lestrade went straight into attack mode. He nodded to Anderson and Donovan and for the first time since they arrive he was glad they had tagged along. At least he had someone that knew how to deal with a situation like this. They sprung into action.

"Wilson" Lestrade said, addressing the man with the gun to his head "Shut your eyes." Once he was sure that the man had done so Donavan whipped out her pepper spray and aimed it at the man holding the gun. The spray went directly into the man's eyes and he staggered back. This was enough time for the three of them to disarm and handcuff the man and for the other members of the team to check over Wilson and Cave. The man was taken to the station and put in a cell ready to be questioned later.

It had been three hours since the man had been brought into the station and one hour since they had started the questioning. The man was much less intimidating now that they had him in cuffs and he wasn't pointing a gun at a fellow police officer. The man could't have been taller than 5'7 and looked to be in his mid thirties . His blonde hair was cropped short in a military style and his blue eyes were still slightly red and puffy from the use of the pepper spray earlier that morning. Lestrade also noted that as the man entered the interrogation room he walked with a noticeable limp. The questioning had not been going well, No matter how hard the detective inspector tried the man had not told them a thing. He had not uttered a word since he had entered the police car at 221B. Lestrade was worried about what the man had been doing there. Sherlock had not been in the flat and so it was possible that this man had done something to him. Throughout the course of the questioning Lestrade became more and more desperate to learn something and his concern for Sherlock increased. After another half an hour of questioning the man finally said something.

"I want my phone call" the man said bluntly. It sounded like a command that the man expected to be followed without question. Lestrade and Donavan looked at the man in a quizzical fashion, unsure of how to respond to the command. "My phone call, Detective Inspector. Now." The man said in a tone that left no room for argument. As much as Lestrade wanted to refuse he couldn't and so Donavon led the man out of the room and down the corridor setting him down before a phone and then listened as the man spoke into the phone. Lestrade also followed behind them, curious as to who the man might call. He dialled the number and then started to talk with the person on the other end of the line.

"It's me" the man said gruffly. There was a pause as the other person responded. "You know where I am and you know what I want, so get on with it." The man said in a bored tone, he then hung up the phone and turned back to Lestrade and Donovan. It took them both a moment to realise that that was it. That was all the man had to say. Feeling that there was nothing else that they'd get out of the man, at least in the next few hours, they put him back in the holding cell.

Two hours later, the man was free and Lestrade was mad. Some government official had turned up around twenty minutes after the phone call was made, waltzed into the Yard and had demanded that the man be released. He had the appropriate documentation to do whatever he wished and so the man was released, free of any charges and all of the officers watched as the blonde walked up to the other man who had enabled such a thing and patted him on the back saying

"It's about time don't you think mate. You're getting slow. " The other man laughed and said

"Well what about you. I mean getting yourself arrested. Thats a new low even for you, how did you swing that one you fool." The two continued to talk as they made their way out of the station but the words were lost to the officers watching them leave.

Lestrade was still concerned for Sherlock's safety. The man had still had no contact and after finding a stranger in the man's Lestrade's worry had only intensified. Therefore after the days work was finished, he decided to go back to 221B. This time, however, he would go by himself. There was no need to get any other members of the force involved. He called a taxi from the Yard and took it to Sherlock's house, ready for anything. Lestrade had a can of pepper spray in easy reach, along with handcuffs and a small stunner. He was ready for any and all threats that may appear. If the blonde man was on the property there was no way he was getting one over on Lestrade. Not this time.

As Lestrade entered the property he felt himself tense. His fight and flight reactions kicking in. Even with the years of experience he had as a police officer he still always felt nervous on a solo mission. There was a suspected hostile in his friends house and he was going in alone. The front door creaked open and his feet carried him up the stairs, the tension coiling in his stomach as he did so. He stopped outside the entrance to Sherlock's abode. He listened for any noise coming from the room, he heard nothing. Suddenly the door was ripped open to reveal a slightly dishevelled Sherlock standing in the doorway. His hair was more ruffled, his usual curls a mess on his head. The man was dressed in his pyjamas and robe, they were also crumpled. Sherlock seemed a tad flustered and glared at Lestrade. Lestrade was unsure what the justification was for the harsh look that the man was giving him.

"There is no reason for you to be here Lestrade. I'm perfectly fine. Now leave." with that Sherlock went to close the door in Lestrade's face. However as the door shut Lestrade stuck his foot between the shutting door and the frame. He winced slightly as the door violently hit his foot. "That is simply immature Lestrade." With a sigh of exasperation Sherlock opened the door again. "If you must come in then get on with it. I wish for this intrusion to last a short amount of time as possible." Sherlock walked away from the door, flopped down on his seat and prepared himself for the inevitable interrogation that would follow. Lestrade was a pain and he wanted nothing more than for him to leave. "Go on then. Get it over with" Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes and leaning further back in his seat. He looked at the man, distastefully. Lestrade wanted to stand up and shake some sense into the man lounging on the chair. He had been worried sick for the man i and here he was acting as though it was Lestrade that was the burden. The ignorant bastard.

"Sherlock, can you please explain to me where you have been for the past seven days. Seven Sherlock! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Lestrade's voice rose as he continued. "Why didn't you contact me? All you had to do was text!" Lestrade was angry and frustrated with the idiotic genius that sat by him. He wanted to slap some sense into him. However, just as Lestrade was about to start an even greater rant at the uninterested Sherlock, a click of a lock and the sound of the bathroom door opening filled the room. Lestrade's head whipped around to find the source of the unexpected noise. Who was in Sherlock's house and why did Sherlock not seem concerned about said person? A man walked out of the bathroom, a man that Lestrade recognised. The man that had been arrested earlier. His blonde hair sightly damp and only wearing a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms. However those things were eclipsed as Lestrade looked at the man's chest. A puckered, red, angry looking wound spread across the man's shoulder. The stitches were still visible, black and clawing like a spider attempting to crawl from the wound. Also further down, running from the mans nipple to his belly button was an older scar that was white with age and yet the skin was still thick and twisted. It reflected the pain that must have been felt from it even through the months that had passed since it was inflicted. The chest in front of Lestrade was also covered in smaller scars all in various stages of healing. As the blonde man saw the new member in the house, his body visibly tensed, he looked as though he was ready to tackle Lestrade to the floor at a moments notice. He limped slowly towards the group, eyes filled with suspicion.

"No need to worry John" Sherlock said in a bored tone "He's a colleague." Sherlock waved his hand to show how little this concerned him. "Now sit down and let me reapply your bandages." The newly dubbed John limped over to the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair and sat, his chest facing the back of the chair, looking at the members of the room as he did so. Sherlock stood from his slumped position and followed John's route to the kitchen. He first, however, grabbed a few supplies from the kitchen cupboards: bandages, cream and tape. The dark haired man then set them down on the table and began to dress the wound on the man's chest, making several comments about John's stupidity and lack of care for his wounds in a scathing tone. John seemed to take no offence as during the process a small smile made its way onto his face. Lestrade simply sat dumb struck, watching the interactions. Even with the scalding tone Sherlock was being more affectionate then Lestrade had ever seen him. He was helping someone. Sherlock was helping someone! Who the hell was this man? The minutes dragged on as Sherlock placed the bandages on John's wounds. When finished John stood up and retreated upstairs to find a shirt. As he left Lestrade felt that it was his moment to wring the answers out of Sherlock. Lestrade stood up, ready to give Sherlock what for.

"Explain, to me Sherlock, why the man that was arrested for attacking two officers this morning is in your house right now?" Lestrade said, his voice adopting the same angry tone that he had had earlier. The man infuriated Lestrade more than words could describe. Sherlock simply raised one of his eye brows at Lestrade and sighed in a dramatic fashion.

"John has as much right to be here as I do Detective" he said in a bored tone. He picked at his nails and continued to speak. "I fail to see what the problem is." Sherlock's bored tone failed to calm Lestrade in anyway in fact it only aggravated him more. To the extent that he thought he might punch Sherlock in the face if the man did not start explaining and explaining quickly.

"The problem,Sherlock, is that this John person assaulted two of my officers and had one of them threatened at gunpoint. Do you fail to understand how much of an issue this is." Lestrade said, his voice getting louder and louder as he continued to speak.

"I think it is you that fails to understand Lestrade" Sherlock said, the bored tone was gone. Instead he was now bristling with anger. Lestrade was shocked at the sudden change in attitude. "When you break into a mans house and threaten him with tasers and pepper spray how do you expect him to react? John was perfectly reasonable in his actions today. I think it is you that is in the wrong Detective inspector" Sherlock said. Lestrade could feel the anger coming from the man in waves. Never had he seen Sherlock get so worked up over something so quickly and it shocked him. What was it that made Sherlock so angry over the treatment of this John person? Why did he feel the need to defend this man so vehemently. Lestrade needed to calm down and asses the situation properly. He was a detective inspectors for Christ's sake he should know how to be calm in stressful situations. Taking a deep breath, Lestrade began to speak in a calmer voice this time.

"Okay Sherlock, so who is John to you?" Lestrade said with much more composure. Sherlock tilted his head, looking at Lestrade curiously.

"Well John's my husband of course."