"HOLMES!" Lucy banged on the bathroom door loudly. I smirked and stood up from the couch and walked to the bathroom.

"Morning.." I said simply from the outside of the door.

"Why'd you lock me in the damn bathroom?!" She shouted angrily.

"Why are you so interested in me?"

There was silence for a moment then Lucy responded.

"Sherlock, you've forgotten me and I don't know why. This is too similar to the case from yesterday. Someone's made you forget me and whoever they are: they're dangerous. I can explain everything once we solve this case! Someone is messing with your brain and others,"

"No ones been doing anything with my brain," I said chuckling.

"Think Sherlock! You're brain hasn't been working well for weeks and you know it. There are gaps missing in your memories! Pieces of the puzzle that make the picture are missing! And you're scared, Sherlock. Don't deny it. You know deep down that something is wrong and that frightens you. You've tried to drugs but they only make things worse, and you know that too. You don't like to be scared because you always know the answer and this time you don't. It's ok to be scared, Sherlock. It shows that you're human. I know you can't trust me, but I want to help. Give me a chance, Sherlock...." Lucy pleaded. I remained silent for a several minutes.

"Redbeard...." Lucy said silently from behind the door.

My heart skipped a beat.

"No peeking, Sherlock!" Mycroft pushed his hands on top of mine to prevent me from seeing through the crack in my fingers. I giggled.

"Ready Sherlock?" I heard my mother say. I nodded violently.

"Alright, one....two...three!" Mycroft removed his hands, and I mine and I scanned the room searching for my birthday present. I gasped and jumped up and down as a ginger puppy with neat curls bounded into the room happily. I ran to my new best friend and wrapped my arms around his neck burying my face in his silky fur. He smelled like fresh lemons. I squealed as the dog's pink tongue licked every inch of my face showering me with slobber. "What'll you name him, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked in anticipation.

"How-" my voice cracked, "How do you know about Redbeard? Only Mycroft knows about him..."

"You told me, Sherlock. You told me because he was your only friend. Besides John. Please listen..." Lucy insisted. I was silent for several minutes before I spoke:

"You can come out now. I know that you've found a way to unlock the door," I replied, stepping away from the door.

Sure enough, the door opened and Lucy stood there with a perplexed looked plastered on her face.

"Why did you bother locking me in if you knew I'd find a way out? I could have left without you even knowing," Lucy pointed out.

"Because you could have left without me knowing," I replied simply.

* * * * * * * *

"Sherlock, here's the-" Mrs. Hudson paused mid-sentence when she saw Lucy laying on the floor surrounded by maps, diagrams, and witness accounts.

"....paper," Mrs. Hudson finished.

Lucy looked up at Mrs. Hudson and smiled. Mrs. Hudson beamed from ear to ear and set the paper on the side table.

"Hello, dear! Have you seen Sherlock?" She asked.

Lucy opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs. Hudson beat her to it:

"Goodness!" She spotted the clock parts that were shoved into the corner of the room.

"That man....he alway had such a nasty temper. He broke my poor clock....always breaking things and the shouting and the drugs. He's a mess all in himself, dear," She said turning to Lucy now.

"You'd best be careful with Sherlock. Got a temper and he doesn't know when to stop. If he were my son-"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," I interrupted as I entered the sitting room. Lucy sucked in a shaky breath and I knew she was on the verge of exploding into laughter.

"Sherlock, you've broken my clock! Stop being so hot tempered, dear! It's like that time when you nearly shot a woman because had "an annoying voice" and the time-"

"Mrs. Hudson...." I warned scowling at her.

"Alright, alright," Mrs. Hudson shuffled out of the room and I shut the door behind her with an exasperated exhale. I glanced at Lucy.

"That man....always had such a nasty temper," she mimicked.

I immediately turned on my heel and retreated to my bedroom.

Lucy rolled her eyes, "Hot-tempered indeed," she mumbled.

Lucy picked up the paper Mrs. Hudson had brought in and flipped it open, reading the headline:

Baffled by one of the most curious cases of this century, D.I Greg Lestrade tells us of the mastermind behind the capture of the infamous robbers.

"I'd seen many cases like this, but this was one of the toughest. I don't know much about this man but he came to Scotland Yard offering his help. We couldn't have solved this case without the help of Mike Inger ."

"What...." Lucy murmured under her breath.

I entered into the room again and handed Lucy a folder.

"Molly sent these, but I think you might what to cross reference them,"

"Sherlock..." Lucy said shakily.

"Hmm?"

"Someone stole our case,"

* * * * *

"Look Sherlock, you've gotten a bit....slow. Mike was brilliant, I'd never seen such a mind. He solved it in two hours, brilliant!" I could hear how Lestrade already idolized this new detective and it made my blood boil.

"You assigned me that case! How do you know he's even got it right?" I shouted in utter disbelief.

"It was simple the evidence found in the criminal's flat. He'd drugged Samuel so hard, he couldn't remember the difference between left and right,"

"What evidence?!"

"I don't remember! Evidence! I'm sorry, Sherlock but you aren't cut out for this anymore. But I owe you,"

Lestrade hung up. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped my mobile so tightly I almost broke it into a million pieces. How could everything be going so wrong? Nothing made sense anymore. My head burned with questions and theories but the thoughts just continued to pile up like paperwork. My head runs like a conveyer belt, different parts of things being added to one one small thing and eventually making a full idea or theory. I always had multiple conveyer belts running at once multiple thoughts and pieces of information constantly building into one another. Sometimes a part would be wrong and I'd throw It out and continue. Sometimes a part would end up on the wrong belt, so I'd simply transfer it to the correct belt. My head was throbbing as pieces, upon pieces, upon pieces piled up, and up, and up. All in the wrong order, on the wrong belt, and none fitting together properly. I couldn't think. Nothing was working....

* * * * * *

I awoke on the couch with a jump and Lucy jumped too pulling the cold cloth away from my forehead. I attempted to stand up, but Lucy placed a hand on my chest, forcing me back down.

"What happened..." I groaned.

"You passed out," She replied quietly.

"God...."

"What did Lestrade say?" Lucy said as she dabbed the damp cloth across my forehead.

"I don't remember...." I recalled Lestrade's words on the phone.

"What?" Lucy said.

I stood up and Lucy backed away. I walked to the window and drummed my fingers against the wall. I looked outside for a few moments and then stopped drumming.

"Sherlock, what is it?"

"It looks like we have a visitor,"