Author's note: Hello readerš. The last chapter was very popular, so in light of my current popularity among the amazing Sherlock fandom, I have updated again. The action come soon in the next couple of chapters so just stick around. As always reviews, corrections, suggestions etc. are always welcome! Enjoy.
"Where to?" the middle aged poorly groomed cabbie asked.
"New Scotland Yard" John replied distracted. He pulled out his phone again, praying it would read, Message from Sherlock, but no matter how many times he would check the darn thing, it never seem to tone down his anxiety. It didn't help that he was the only one in the back seat. Since he moved into the prime spot in the center of London after getting home from the war, he was constantly in the company of the detective. This could very well be the first time in months that he actually sat in a cab alone. Lestrade won't give up until he is found. We'll find him. John tried to reassure himself, but it wasn't at all helping.
The taxi pulled to an abrupt stop, yanking John from his thoughts. He paid the driver and made his way to the large building, limping just a bit. The lobby was crowded, but Lestade was waiting by the door for the arrival of Dr. Watson.
"John, what happened?"
"I don't know, I woke up this morning and he wasn't in the flat. His window was open. I tried his cell but he didn't respond."
"Have you checked the house for signs of break in?"
"I was asleep upstairs, I think I would know if my flat were being broke into!"
"Not always, I'll send a team over to investigate. In the meantime, fill out a missing persons report so that I can legally handle his case." Lestrade briskly walked to the elevator leaving John alone in the lobby.
"How can I help you, sir" the receptionist behind the desk asked.
"I need to report a missing person." John didn't know how many times he had said that in his life, so many people he had knew, missing, dead. That was the thing about those dark days of war, they haunted you for the rest of your life. This time though, it seemed all too real, more real even than the dozens of MIAs he had seen or heard. This time it was his flat-mate, his friend. And this time he wouldn't just stand by, he would find Sherlock even if he had to do it alone.
"Nameā¦Sir, I need the nameā¦Sir?" the receptionist worked hard to capture the blogger's attention.
"Yes, um, what was it?"
"I need the missing person's name."
"Holmes, um Sherlock Holmes."
Lestade stormed into his packed office, his loud stomping had attracted an audience, the whole department. "Everyone report to my office" he barked at the group.
"We have a bit of a situation. Sherlock Holmes has been pronounced missing."
"Wait, the freak got himself lost?" Agent Donovan was having too much fun with the news.
"Excuse me Detective Inspector, but that doesn't really seem to fit our jurisdiction." There was no way Anderson was going to chase that evidence-tampering, full of himself psychopath all around the city just because he was bored.
"He isn't lost. We assume he was abducted. The case has been filed, and there is a possibility of his death. It's our jurisdiction now. I want Anderson and agent Donovan to put together a forensics team quickly. We will check the flat for evidence and then work our way from there." Lestade exited the room.
"I have my forensics team set, you can ride with me over there."
Author's Note: hope you liked it. Thanks for reading. I would love to hear from all you lovely people out there. Please, the time you take to review this story is greatly appreciated and a special thanks to those who followed, favorited, and reviewed already.