ABRIELLE'S POV
Not long after I had let the boys into the building, we had headed up to the nice woman's flat. She was really very kind to us, and her boyfriend was very pleasant as well, in fact he had even baked us cookies! No, the cookies weren't poisoned, Sherlock checked … twice. After we had talked to her for a bit and swapped stories, I noticed Sherlock heading out towards the balcony getting ready to jump. Deciding that I wanted to follow him, I sprung into action, quickly demanding John to stay behind and distract the kind couple for a little while while we checked out Van Coon's place. At first he had objected, stating that someone was going to have to look out for our safety, and that that person was him. But then when I had threatened to take away his laptop he quickly complied with my demand, rushing to the kitchen to talk to the nice people and distract them for the time being. While he was keeping the other two occupied I had quickly approached Sherlock, his body now halfway over the balcony. Knowing that if I timed this exactly right I'd land correctly, I rushed towards the balcony railing, my hands instantly contacting with it as I swung my body over the ledge, rushing straight past Sherlock's confused face. With the help of the momentum, I swung effortlessly into a freefall that was heading straight for Van Coon's balcony. As I neared I braced myself, my body forming itself into the perfect ball as I rolled elegantly onto the lower balcony. I stood up, brushing the dirt off my shirt as I heard the thump of Sherlock landing gracefully beside me. After that me and Sherlock had come to the mutual agreement to search Van Coon's flat for some sort of clue to his whereabouts. We checked the kitchen, the living room, even the bathroom for anything that could have told us where he had gone. Yet we had found nothing. No evidence whatsoever that he had even left his house. His toothbrush and other toiletries were still in the bathroom, there was a take out bag throw in the trash that suggested he had ordered takeout and delivery recently, and there was a suitcase next to the door that was empty, which meant that he hadn't even thought about leaving the area! Stupid bastard. After looking everywhere and finding absolutely nothing me and Sherlock had decided call John down, maybe with his help we'd find something. And find something we did … In the form of Van Coon's dead body of 's right, Van Coon was dead … shot in the head with a gun and lying on his bed sheet kind of dead. So, like any rational person in this situation I called the police. Yes, Sherlock Holmes and Abrielle Watson called the police I know I know that's unheard of. But we kind of had to, I mean, we had looked around the flat ourselves already, and we couldn't just let a corpse lay there to rot, so yes we called the police. After eight minutes of looking around the area for more clues and waiting for the police to arrive, arrive they did. They rushed up to the flat an ambulance and forensic officers in tow. It was like a bloody parade I swear! Now here we were, looking at a dead corpse of our victim to try and figure out why this specific person was being threatened. Out of all the people in the world this specific man was killed because of a graffiti symbol, I didn't know how or why but he was. This was much more than a silly warning painted in a bank, oh no this was something much more, and I swore with everything I knew and loved I'd get to the bottom of it. This man deserved justice and justice is what he would get.
"D'you think he'd lost a lot of money? I mean, suicide is pretty common among City boys." My brother exclaimed, watching as Sherlock and I examined the body.
"We don't know that it was suicide." Sherlock replied, looking at John with a heated glare. John was assuming things, and that was never a good place to be when you worked with Sherlock Holmes. Even I knew that from simply reading John's blogs! You'd think after living with Sherlock you'd at least know not to assume something so rash after knowing so little about the situation.
"Come on. The door was locked from the inside; you had to climb down the balcony." John explained, looking at Sherlock with an annoyed expression. It was obvious to him, of course it was. He wasn't using his eyes at all! He was just assuming the worst and it was anything but the truth! Stupid goldfish John. He was really annoying the heck out of me.
"Yes, but that means nothing John. Another person could have easily locked the door on his way out of the flat." I exclaimed looking at my brother like he was the biggest idiot on the planet. No one in their right mind should ever pass this off as a suicide. It just wasn't true! I looked towards Sherlock, my eyes following his as he looked down at an open suitcase on the floor. Ah, his clothing, now we were getting somewhere! Finally!
"Been away three days, judging by the laundry." Sherlock stated, my eyes scanning over the case, analyzing everything and anything I could. Going from the deep indentation in the clothing something else was there, something that was packed up against the clothing like a casing for it, so judging from that it was something that was valuable and could get broken easily. And judging by the look in Sherlock's eye he had noticed that too.
"Look at the case. There was something tightly packed inside it." Sherlock said, looking up at John, explaining his deduction.
"From the way the creases line up, I'd say it was something oddly shaped, maybe a cup, or a vase or something like that." I continued, adding on to Sherlock's previous thought. Alright! So maybe he hadn't deduced ever single little thing like I had. That meant that I had a one up on him, Abrielle one, Sherlock zero. I was winning, nothing new. But I was winning against the amazing Sherlock Holmes, which was definitely something to be excited about. It's not everyday that you go against a great and mighty source like Sherlock, and it sure as hell isn't everyday where you see Sherlock mess up. So something like this was huge. I had somewhat beaten Sherlock at his own game, and damn did it feel good! I looked up at him, watching him with a small smirk on my lips just thinking about it, watching as he walked to the foot of Van Coon's bed.
"Those symbols at the bank – the graffiti. It was definitely a warning. I'm positive." Sherlock explained, not even looking up to establish who he was talking to. Well duh! Of course it was a warning! The man that the warning was meant for is lying dead in his flat! It wasn't just some coincidence and some killer just decided to kill the exact same person that just happened to be threatened, this was a planned out murder. Van Coon was threatened and then killed, so of course the graffiti at the bank was a warning. What else was it going to be, a piece of pie? Yeah, no. Sherlock was acting like a freaking goldfish now, and it was not something I particularly enjoyed. It was wrong on so many levels, it was just not normal! A warning was a warning, and a dead guy was a dead guy, but Sherlock … Sherlock was not acting like Sherlock.
"What, some sort of warning, threatening his life?" John asked, looking at Sherlock in confusion. It was as if he hadn't even been listening to me earlier! I had said OUT LOUD that it had been a warning! Either I was going mute, or I was being ignored. Hopefully it was not the latter, because I did not take being ignored lightly.
"Exactly John, good job!" I stated sarcastically, glaring him in the eyes as I joined up with Sherlock who was now looking at Van Coon's corpse. I watched carefully, my eyes taking in everything as Sherlock pulled out a small black origami flower from within the guy's mouth. Wait a minute … black flower? Supposed suicide? It couldn't be could it? Were they really back again after such a short amount of time. Oh they wouldn't come here would they? Not after knowing that I could easily kill them all again. They weren't that dumb were they? Oh, but they were. They were back and they were killing people now. They must have known that I would be here … Unless that's precisely why they came here. It was the only explanation. They were here, and they were coming for me.
"Black lotus." I whispered quietly my head looking down at the tiny black origami piece of paper with all the malice I could muster. They were the first. The first to give me a name, a reputation. The first group to make things personal. The first to give me a friend. Without them I would be long gone … No where close to humanity. That friend had taken my rough cold exterior and melted it to form the more human side of me that everyone … Well, some people, saw in me today. Without the Black Lotus I never would have had that.
"What'd you say?" Sherlock asked looking at me in curiosity, staring me down with a quick quirk of his brow. He was curious … and if this was any normal situation I may have told him. Well, maybe. But not now, not when this was personal for me. Now was not the best time that was for sure.
"I said I'll be right back." I clarified in a louder tone, my face glancing over towards Sherlock's disbelieving frown as I walked towards the door, flicking my gloves off in a quick haste as I tried to hurry my way out of the room. I needed to get more help on this, I needed to call him it was the only way. I needed answers to my questions and he had them. I knew it was risky, especially this early into meeting up with my brother after such a long time. But I had to, he had the answers I needed to get this case over and done with as soon as possible. If this case didn't end quickly I'd die, because if I was right, and I usually was, the Black Lotus came here to do one thing and one thing only, they came here to kill me. I needed help and the only way to get it would be him, so him I would ask.
"Wait, where are you going?" John asked in confusion, my focus turning to him as I gave him a small reassuring smile.
"I just need to call a friend quick." I replied, flipping my phone out my pocket and tossing it in the air as if to just backup my claim even more. Yes, I know, I was being dramatic. But who said a little drama killed anybody? I smiled, giving him my most innocent smile, as I awaited the vast amount of questioning that John would surely do once he got out of his confused stupor.
"In the middle of a case?!" He exclaimed in surprise, totally catching me off guard. This was not how John normally behaved around me, normally it was question after question after question about who I was calling, why I was calling them, how old the person I was calling was, and every question in between. But this, this was a whole different level of John. I never, not once been exempt from his questioning spree, but today all he had for me was why are you calling someone while you're at a murder scene? Really, is that the best he could come up with? It was a creative question I'll give him that, but really? It was all he wanted to ask me about? Wow, John had seriously changed, he wasn't as protective anymore … well he was still really protective, but he didn't ask me a list of random questions every time I wanted to talk to someone now. That's good … right? No, it wasn't good, I missed when he actually cared about me. The times he would double check my windows to see if they were locked, or wrap me up in neon duct tape if we ever went out at night. I missed his relentless questioning just as much as I miss defying him and telling him no. Him simply asking me why I was calling at such a bad time was not something I wanted, no I wanted more. I wanted my old brother back. Asking me something as simply as 'why are you calling them now?' is not what I wanted, not by a long shot. But I'd have to ignore it, because this was John now. I'd never get my old John back not ever. This was him, and I'd have to learn to accept it.
I sighed a little, giving him a playful glare. If this was all he was going to ask me then I was going to give him something to remember in return … just a little bit of defiance to give him the notation that I didn't need to be protected all my life. Something dramatic, and show offy, and just enough of me that not even Sherlock will delete it from his mind.
"Yup, I can do whatever I want. Besides, It looks like Sherlock's got this." I stated with a smirk, turning on my heel and hurrying the hell out of there. I walked carefully past
the other officers, making my way out into the hall where I knew I wouldn't be heard. Then, when I finally arrived at my destination I stopped, glancing down at my phone. I was conflicted, calling him would give me the answers I so dearly needed, and a conversation would be nice, since I haven't talked to him since I've returned. But then on the other hand if I do call him, John would know before I want him to. I didn't want him to know, not this early. I wanted to stay with him a few months before I even hinted at it. I needed to take things carefully with John, ease him into this in a way. But if I call him, John would never get the chance to ease his way into this. It would be abrupt and out of nowhere and I did not want to be lectured by John, not now. John's lectures were boring, and I was not going to let him yell at me, not after the debacle of 2001. But I had to call him, I knew I would be in trouble if I didn't … possibly even dead at the hands of Van Coon's murderer. But calling him might just give me the advantage I needed to avoid that. Alright, I'd call him and that was that. I went through my contacts dialing a familiar number and holding it to my ear as I awaited for him to answer.
"Hello." A voice replied, picking up on the other end. This was it, this was where everything would either break apart or stay glued in place. This conversation would decide whether or not I lived or died. This was everything I had worked for in a nutshell, and this conversation was the deciding factor on whether or not the life I had built for myself would continue. This was it, whatever I said and whatever I figured out would seal my fate forever. If I died I died and it would be all my fault.
"Hey it's me, I need you to do me a favor." I stated, smirking towards the phone. I'd be fine I was in safe hands … well as safe as life can get nowadays, but it's fine. He'd find the information I need, that's not what I'm worried about. It's the John apocalypse after the fact that I'm worried about. Oh, no I'd be fine. He'd keep me safe. That I had no doubt about, I'd be fine. I mean I wouldn't just flat out die from my brother yelling at me. That'd be interesting though … death by lecture. No, this was all fine and dandy, because now I had a one up on the Black Lotus, now I was winning against them too, and soon, not now or anytime close to now but soon I'd have the heads of whoever murdered Van Coon up on my wall. No one hunts me and gets away with it, that was for sure. I'm a devil with horns, and hunting me meant death. And death they would get, on that I was positive.
