Disclaimer: This version of Sherlock belongs to BBC. I don't own any rights to the characters besides a strange girl and the enemies.
This one-shot story contains low levels of sexual themes, mentions of child abuse and murder. I also wish to apologize for anything wrong in the story, it was just a little thing I wanted to write that has been on mind for some time and only wrote it for around an hour worth of time.
Please Enjoy, Thirsty Mama. (Warwolfgirl)
BBC-SHERLOCK-HOLMES-BBC
"BORED, John I am bored!" Sherlock Holmes sunk back into his lounge, across from him John Watson sighed deeply into his newspaper, scouring the pages for something that could shut his flatmate up. For once there were no strange murders or suicides that could peak the dark haired man's interest.
"Why don't you go for a walk, have some fresh air instead of… hundreds of nicotine patches?" The ex-military man gave his flatmates arm a glare, it was covered with the white circle patches that the genius would slap onto his skin when deep in thought.
The man cried out loudly that walking outside was boring unless there as a murder right beside him, Sherlock began to pace the room stringing a list of words that went through one of John's ears and out the other, the moment reminded John of the time with the Baskerville case a few weeks back where Sherlock complained the day before about the luminous rabbit. Now it was about the missing skull that Mrs Hudson had hidden away and how his test fingers in the fridge were starting to rot so he had to acquire some more from Molly which he thought was far to tedious.
A sound caused both men's heads to look up towards the stairs, a single ring in less than five seconds. Sherlock rushed down the stairs almost leaping over Mrs Hudson at the end of the stairs to get to the door first. John listened as Sherlock happily led the possible client up the stairs, by the voice it was a young girl who calmly spoke to the hyped up genius.
"So what is the mystery, what kind of murder? It better be good…" Sherlock clapped his hands together and fell into his seat again, the girl who looked around seventeen leaned against the door frame. John looked over and the instant his eyes fell on her he dropped the newspaper and flew to his feet, an accusing finger lifted in her direction.
"YOU! My god what are you doing here?!" Sherlock looked between the two, reading their body language within seconds, his voice echoed in the room causing the pair to look at him and listen silently. The girl was far too young to be John's sister.
"By the way you hold yourself John that this girl is possibly a former co-worker or a short time friend, looking at her stance it would seem… no she was trained to handle a gun but she was not in the military so maybe she was trained by a retired veteran. You seem to have a trust issue towards her so maybe she betrayed your group in Afghanistan, by the way your arm is held it would have something to do with your former injury so she may have had something to do with you getting shot… so…"
"To save some time, yes I shot Mr Watson, only because he pointed the gun at me in his anger. I reacted in self-defence and made sure not to make his wound life threatening." The girl calmly interrupted Sherlock and ignored his frustrated expression; John clenched his jaw causing a vein to pop out of his neck.
"You assassinated three innocent men and left their children fatherless!" Sherlock leaned back as he watched the scene unfold, his eyes on the girl, watching her face. She didn't react to John's insult proving it was very true yet deep in her eyes he could see something hidden away. "Why are you here? Certainly not about a crime… or to poke at me over the fact you got me kicked out of the army?"
"Actually I didn't realise you were here, I indeed came to speak with Mr Holmes over a crime." She looked at Sherlock with a small smile, her arms crossed over and her face was devoid of any care, but not completely blank to Sherlock who saw everything in every crease of her clothing and smell of gun oil on her hands. She had a weapon on her person that she had recently prepared for a fight.
The way she said her words caused the genius to perk up, "In fact it is a crime not yet committed, it will happen at this address and time…" She pulled out a sheet of paper from the red leather cover of her phone and tucked it under Sherlock's mug of coffee beside him. The man didn't remove his eyes from the girl, watching each twitch in her face. She turned and nodded her head to John, "It was a pleasure to see you again Mr Watson, I am sorry about shooting you. And the betrayal…" She left the room while pulling the black hood over her fuzzy brown head, John stumbled after her hoping to catch her for answers but by the second he got to the top of the stairs the girl was already hailing a cab and driving away.
Sherlock unfolded the small note and read the small writing calmly, John turned and spotted the curious expression on his face. "John, grab my phone from my coat. I have a call to make…"
Greg Lestrade was waiting only hours later for Sherlock and John to come to the station. "We caught the murderer but they are not talking, you called it in so... maybe you know something?" Sherlock nodded and John followed confusion written across his face. Behind the 'interview' room's mirror he froze at the sight of the killer, a certain girl in a long black hoodie sat with her cuffed hands calmly folded in front of her on the metal table. Her eyes were closed as she meditated ignoring the police presence behind her and the coffee that was growing cold beside her arm. Sherlock entered the room alone, the Policeman that was flanking the girl left the room to give the girl the sense of privacy, even though they all knew she knew they were still watching.
"Glad you came Mr Holmes, I am happy you followed the message. Do you want to ask questions or shall I just talk? Is Mr Watson taking notes behind the mirror or will you just remember it all? Of course you will…" She opened her eyes to meet his, her pupils enlarged in the bright blueness of her irises. Sherlock nodded his head with his hands matching her clenched ones. She closed her eyes again with a small smile, "It is simple, I need your help in something."
Greg and John looked at each other as Sherlock leaned forward in curiosity as the girl continued speaking, "I have been following the man I 'murdered' for months, and he had a connection to the three men who I killed in Afghanistan." She peered at the glass to nod her head in the direction she believed John to have been in. "I think Mr Watson needs to know the truth of the three 'fathers' I slaughtered, they were part of a gang that has groups all over the world. The biggest group is based around here, which is where these four men came from."
"Why were the three men that John witnessed you killing in Afghanistan? What were they doing there?"
"They kidnap children from poor districts for their fun, or to enlarge their groups. You can find the kidnappers in war torn districts like the three I killed. The one here was their contact, I sent an email to him from one of the three men's phone to draw him out, he was very curious to find out why one of his men took almost a year to answer back. The phone is the old Nokia that the inspector took off my person." She nodded her head at the glass again but was pointing it to Greg, "Now I want to ask Mr Watson something, did you stay to watch the children's reaction after trying to shoot me? Think hard about it." John clenched his jaw and fingers around his pen, he glared at her through the glass.
Sherlock leaned back with his hands against his chin in thought, "So why did you let yourself be captured?"
"As I said, I need your help and the help of the police force."
"Did someone hire you to hunt and kill these men? Who are you exactly?" Sherlock pieced together her words in his mind, scanning the way she shifted in her seat and how her eyes looked over his shoulder as she thought of a way to answer him without giving away her client.
"Someone who lost their child to these men hired me, the police dropped their investigation within a day even though there was so much proof around. The police don't look at what is right in front of them, not like the families or you and me. No, they go to the easiest conclusion or take bribes to ignore the evil under their noses…" Behind the glass Inspector Lestrade and the Policeman bristled at her insult. "And I am someone who has also suffered from this gang and not have any closure…"
The girl leaned back with a small smirk as she met Sherlock's eyes, "The last man I killed has contacts on his phone with other kidnappers overseas, I suggest the Inspector gets his men on finding out who are the people they all belong to and where they currently are. And if you don't believe me, call the medical squad that inspected the three in Afghanistan and ask them if they had a tattoo of a snake biting its tail on the tip of their tongues."
"I called the Afghanistan Medical Force to inquiry about the three men, and I hate to say it but the girl is correct. All the four men have the tattoos on their tongues." Greg did not look pleased with the idea of the young killer being truthful. "I have my guys working on the numbers on the newest 'victims' phone, along with the phone of one of the men from Afghanistan and also our little Assassin."
"How many numbers does the girl have?" Sherlock stood with his hands under his chin, John sat in one of the chairs with a glass of water against his forehead, his face was pale and weary as he thought about Afghanistan.
"Only two, one is her own probably kept so she didn't have to memorize it and the other we are running through right now… hang on, this may be it now?" A policeman walked in with paper, he left again after placing it into Greg's hand. "The last one is… the number for a porn store? Why would an assassin have the number of a store like that?"
The two men sitting down puzzled over the oddness of the number while Sherlock clicked his fingers, Greg and John had to rush after him as the Consulting Detective rushed back to the girl's interview room. The three of them stood in front of her, she looked up at them in curiosity.
"This gang that you are hunting, do they do business with illegal underground trades?" The girl's eyes brightened.
"Yes, you looked into the numbers on my phone too did you? That was smart of you. This gang actually one of the largest underground Organisation that deals with illegal porn videos and the more physical nature. They do everything, including Snuff Films, which is why my last Client's child was killed."
"Snuff Film's, you're kidding me… here?" Sherlock looked between John and Greg in confusion not knowing what a Snuff Film was, "And this store you have a number for…?
"Lead's into the underground rooms where you can do business and buy the videos, it also is apparently where one of their leader's likes to hide away in. I couldn't investigate the area due to my age…"
"Could you be able to enter with an older man with you?" Sherlock had three eyes on him then, two full of anger and disbelief while the other had light humour and agreement.
"Yes, that I could. But I do believe I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."
The three men returned to the Inspector's office. "We can investigate this ourselves, I will not allow you to have this girl released." Greg leaned against his desk and glared at Sherlock.
"One of us will be with her, and she has been cooperative so far."
"Yes so far, she was cooperative with my team in Afghanistan before she killed those men and shot me." John joined Greg to glare at Sherlock causing the dark haired man to flail his arms around in frustration and called them both idiots.
"Sherlock, I will let you and Watson investigate the underground hideout. You will have only a couple of hours tomorrow night, I will send my people in to clean out the place when that time is up."
Sherlock tucked a gun into his coat then wrapped his scarf around his neck, in front of him John was hiding his own gun underneath his shirt and jacket. It was the next day after questioning the girl, who evaded all questions on her name with aloof questions about how Sherlock did his deductions on people or how John's wound was feeling.
Sherlock's phone rang, he answered it quickly. "What is it Inspector? What happened at the station? Is the girl… I see… thank you."
"What happened?" John looked over in worry as Sherlock hanged up, his brown was knitted into a deep frown. "Did something happen at the station?"
"The girl's cell guard was attacked by someone in a black mask … video footage shows the girl had punched the man in the face which he returned with a backhand, but afterwards she had simply laughed and followed the man without struggling."
"Does that mean she knows the man from somewhere?"
"I don't know, we should get underground and find out… I believe she would either go there herself if this man is a friend, or the man works for the Organisation and will take her there to face the gang's vengeance." John felt a chill down his spine as he followed Sherlock from their flat.
They hailed a cab and went to the cold and empty street that contained some shops and the porn store. They made the cab stop far away and across the road so they could walk the rest of the way, the air was freezing and it as some relief when they entered the store. John looked around, unfazed by the sight while Sherlock struggled to keep a straight face to hide his confusion and disgust.
A man behind the counter looked up and grinned at the sight of them, "Homosexual is down that isle."
"We're not gay…" John curtly replied, his face full of contained frustration. The man behind the counter snorted in complete disbelief as he looked them both up and down. Sherlock pretended to browse the wares along the walls.
"Do you have more than this stored away, something with more… excitement?" Sherlock kept his voice calm as he peered over at the man, eyes observing the man's shift in his stance and how his eyes flicked to the back door.
"I am sorry, but everything that new visitors can see is upfront. The rest of the store is only for frequent buyers and members." The man slowed to a stop as Sherlock pulled out money from his top pocket and held it up to his face.
"Will this be enough to pay for the entrance fee?" Sherlock pulled a smirk as the man took the money hungrily, he nodded his bald tattooed head and waved his hand to the back door. John and Sherlock thanked the man and went through the door calmly.
Down many flights of stairs they came to a massive basement like area, a small group of men and women perused the piles of films stacked on tables, other's spoke to men on the sides next to curtained areas. Inside the two could just make out the outlines of two people and a camera, it took only a second for both men to work out what was going on behind them.
John instantly moved over to one table to look at the covers of the films, out of simple curiosity. Sherlock sent his back a light glare before he tried to pretend to look at the films, his eyes scanning he area. There were three men at the curtain's taking money from the hands of customer's, two watched over the tables and one guarded a door on the far end. The man who guarded the door had a bruise on his chin forming into a dark smudge.
John stood beside him and lifted a case, whispering to Sherlock, "I asked him what Snuff Films were, he explained it to me and that apparently in the past fifteen years only two real snuff films were know of. One was of a young boy from Afghanistan from around three years ago, another of a girl from about thirteen years. He also hinted that someone may be filming a new one very soon."
"It will be someone we know…" Sherlock looked to the side at John, the shorter man looked back with a startled face which he covered up quickly and looked back at the cover in his hand to pretend to read the name. "I think I know where she is, but not how to get to her…" John peeked over to the man at the door.
As Sherlock tried to think of some ludicrous idea John found one disk and walked over to one of the men, Sherlock listened to his question carefully. "Is there any chance me and my friend can watch this somewhere?" The man gave the short man a grating laugh and took some money from John while jabbing a finger to the door that Sherlock thought was impossible to enter.
The two walked over to the man with the bruise who nodded his head and unlocked the door. "If you want a woman or a man or someone younger of either gender to service you then just call out."
Sherlock and John simply nodded and thanked him before following a young woman who was scantily dressed down the short hall into a room with an old run down television. When the door closed Sherlock gave John a questioning glance. "A mate in the army took me to a place like this once, he told me that no matter what kind of store they are in they always have one or two TV's to watch on for those who don't want their women or men to find out about their… hidden desires."
Sherlock kept the disturbed expression on as John put the disk into the player and turned the volume on high. "What is the plan now?" Sherlock took his eyes away from the TV and searched the room. Finding nothing filming them he peered out the room, the woman who led them to the room was not around. Gesturing for John to follow they went to the last door and listened, when they were met with silenced Sherlock opened the door to a slight gap to look inside as John pulled out his gun to watch behind them.
The room was dark and full of cuffs. On the far end he could make out the form of the brunette girl and no other people. He carefully moved in with John watching his back, he checked the camera that was on a tripod in front of the girl then turned it off while looking her up and down. It looked like the men had only beaten her up a few times, blood dripped down her forehead and past her eyes that looked up at him.
"Good of you to finally make it." She tugged her hands down, dislocating her thumbs to allow her hands to slip through the cuffs. She stood carefully to her feet and popped her thumbs back into place. "Through that door is the boss and a secret exit. If we don't hurry he might escape…"
"How will he even know that we are here?" John asked as he lowered his handgun. The girl jerked her head at the camera before heading straight to the door, the camera must have been linked with a TV. The two men followed her, both with their guns in their hands. The unarmed girl led the way down the hall quickly, there was another door at the end and stairs beside it. John moved to the left of the door while Sherlock moved to the right and balanced on the first step. The girl pushed the door open and almost didn't dodge the bullet that chipped the wall behind her.
Sherlock pointed the gun inside, looking down at the older man through his guns sights. John held his gun out as well. When the man inside noticed he was outnumbered he lowered the gun to the ground and stood back with his hands in the air. His face was grim as his eyes fell onto the girl who moved forward and slid the gun away with her foot before bending to pick it up and point it at him.
The girl looked the man up and down before giving him a dark smile, "You have gained a few wrinkles since I last saw you." The man looked startled, his pale eyes stared at her face for a moment before he paled, it was like he saw a ghost. "Don't worry I am not who you think I am, I am the other one." She moved the collar of her bloody shirt to show fine rope scars that had long ago tried to strangle her. The man's lips tightened as John and Sherlock gave her quick glances before returning to the man.
"So kill me like you killed my guy last night, little bitch." He sneered at her, which she returned with a blank face. She raised four fingers, the man looked at her fingers then back at her with his face seeming to pale more.
"We will not kill him, I will call Lestrade to send his men here." John pulled out his phone and dialled Greg's number, the girl sent him a cold look.
"I have been hunting this man for almost ten years. I will not let him go to jail where he will simply bribe his way out again!" John gave her a warning look as he quickly informed Greg of their status. The girl held his look with her own chilling one, Sherlock kept his eyes on the man in front of them.
John turned his gun towards the girl and warned her, "Shoot him and I will shoot you…" A loud bang echoed through the room as the girl didn't hesitate to shoot the man in his knee. John jumped but didn't fire his gun as the older man rolled on the ground in agony.
"I don't fear being killed or your threats, Mr Watson." She gave him a cold look, her voice like ice dripping with acid. She stepped over the old man on the ground and searched through his tapes, she found too with just a date scrawled in the same handwriting on a small square strip of paper. Looking at the dates she held them in her hand as the sounds of men yelling filled the air. Greg must have already been on his way over.
When the Inspector entered the room he swore at the sight of the man on the ground and quickly examined his wound before turning his attention to Sherlock. "I will get him to a guarded clinic room before having him processed to a cell." He looked up at the fidgeting girl, "I can put him in a cell for some time for running this illegal trade, kidnapping and rape. Also using the contacts in the two phones we can catch others who work with him… But without proof of the Snuff Film theory, he won't stay in much longer then around ten years…" He went silent as the girl handed him the two disks, she nodded her head and left the room as two more Policemen joined them.
Sherlock and John followed her quickly as she rushed up the stairs to a grate on the wall, she pulled it open and crawled out with the two behind her. "Wait, did that man kill someone close to you?" John spun her around and paused as he eyed the redness that speckled her eyes and cheeks.
"Eleven years ago me and my older sister ran away from the people who were our new 'parents' and were caught at the edges of the park just a few hours away from here. We were locked away in a house where that man forced himself onto my sister, there were so many of them… they all hurt her in front of me… then he finished her off ." She held a hand to her neck, the man must have strangled her sister as well. "They didn't do anything to me, they were disgusted with my crying and were bored after using my sister, so they simply half strangled me and threw my body into a dumpster."
The girl leaned against the wall, Greg had joined them and had horrified expression that matched John's face as he caught her last words. Sherlock's expression was attentive with a very small amount of softness in his eyes as he listened, "A homeless man found me, apparently it was his favourite dumpster. The men hadn't completely strangled me, so the man was able to save me. He was a former military man like you, Mr Watson. When he was kicked out of the army due to a severe injury he couldn't earn money from jobs or stand living the life of a civilian, fighting was all he knew for over twenty years. He taught me everything he knew for five years. He died early into the next year from the cold… from then on I started to hunt down the men."
The three men were silent, not knowing what to say, John simply pulled the girl into a soft hug to let her cry into his arms as the night finally hit her along with the relief of the man responsible finally being caught. Greg sighed and rubbed his neck, not knowing what to do with the girl, he looked over at Sherlock as the tall man watched silently.
As the night drew on, the four returned to the police station where the three men spent time chatting and trying to work out what to do with the girl, as they spoke they didn't realise until too late that the girl was no longer in her small cell, and that both her phone and gun were missing from the evidence room.
Sherlock leaned back in his lounge with his hands folder over his chest, Mrs Hudson was in their kitchen trying to clean up their mess and John sat in his seat flicking through the current paper. On the front was the news about the man they captured last month was found dead in his cell, he was beaten to death by some of his cell mates, two of the men were the fathers of a girl and boy that were raped.
John and Sherlock's phones beeped to different tunes as they both got a text from an unknown number. Sherlock opened the mail and felt a small smile lift to his lips, he caught John's surprised look and knew he got a message from the same person.
They both broke out into light laughter as they saved the number under a name which they placed in their top numbers before returning to what they were doing, their smiles lasted for hours. Far away, near a dark park a girl also held a small grin as she deleted one number and added the two under their last names. Closing her phone she stared at the place she last was with her sister, swinging slowly on the old chipping red painted swing.
If you need a helping hand with investigating anything, just give me a call.
Love you both and many kisses.
Eve Winters
Hope you liked my story.