We had a tricky case this week. Someone was leaving threats all over London,in spray paint. They didn't make any sense at first, but everything clicked once we had all the right evidence. We caught who was behind it all, albeit with an edge of danger in the process. I'll explain later.
I asked John if he wanted to go out - well, suggested, really - for dinner, and he thought I was asking him out. Which, now that I look back on it, I sort of was, I suppose. But he said he already had plans with a girl from work, which is never a good idea, John. I won't say that I didn't feel dejected, because I did. But John can live his life the way he wishes, and if that is going on a date with a girl instead of rather than then I shall respect his decision.
John and his date had been taken that night and it was up to me to find them, which I did. People are so dull and ignorant to think that they're clever, but they're not. They're idiots, every single one of them. Except, of course, for John and myself. And Mrs. Hudson. And Molly Hooper.
As I was saying earlier, we found the people who had taken John and Sara(h). They had them sat in chairs in a tunnel. Facing Sara(h) was the device that they had used in the circus earlier that week that shot off an arrow into its target.
For some odd reason, they kept getting John confused with myself. It proved to be a good distraction, as John would keep saying that he was not who they think he was, but they would not believe him, for he held my wallet with my ID, as I later found out.
For each moment he denied their assumed identity of himself, I had more time to get to them. Upon my arrival I was able to take down the woman's little dogs, and John was able to save Sara(h) all the while taking out the last dog. I do not know what happened to the woman, however, as I was more worried about John and getting him back to safety. He seemed alright, and said he was so, but I could see that his nerves were all over the place.
I wanted to help John, but I didn't know how. It's not every day you get kidnapped, and I've never been in that situation, so I just let him be. After a day or two, he seemed fine again, and our days went on. But he wasn't - isn't - fine. I can hear him at night when he wakes from his nightmares. I wish I knew how to help him, but I'm at a loss. I'm never at a loss, and that scares me. Oh, John, I'm so sorry that I am so useless.