Disclaimer: I don't not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

Chapter 9:

John had calmed down, and everyone had left by the time the computer beeped again signalling it once more found the phone. He quickly ran out of the flat and hailed a cab with the lap top in tow. Directing the poor confused cabbie was a hassle, but if John's suspicions were correct then Sherlock was in a worse situation with a serial killer. Finally answering the questions posed earlier by Sherlock, of who do we trust, the same questions that Sherlock obviously already answered when he left. As the dot seemed to come to a full stop John decided it was time to deal with the emergency line of the NSY, having no way to contact Lestrade directly. John had reached what looked like a college by the time he finished jumping through hoops to relay the situation to the gray haired DI.

"You know John had a point with doing your jobs, No one is forcing you to work with Sherlock or even go on drugs busts." Lestrade said to the two glaring people in front of him.

"Oh so it's John now, when did you get all chummy with the freaks crippled pet?" Sally asked only a little annoyed that the respected DI was so adamant on this punishment.

"John, Dr. Watson," Lestrade amended conceding that being on familiar terms right now probably wasn't' the best idea "is above all else a civilian. And you have insulted and threatened him in his own home no less on a bullshit drugs bust." The detective Inspectors voice rose in volume with every word spoken, causing the other two people in the room to flinch. "And why are you calling him a cripple?"

"He has a cane, and he looks frumpy and pathetic." Anderson answered as if it was obvious. Lestrade's mind started to compare the description of John to the soldier he met on that fateful night years ago. Admittedly the man they just left resembled nothing of the soldier that went off to war. The easy grin was nowhere to be found within the lines that graced the man's face; the solid muscle under a sweater was barely visible, the kindness that was so prominent in his eyes was now hidden under a steeliness that can only be achieved by walking through hell and back many times over. It dawned on Lestrade that the other two had no clue that they met a war veteran, only seeing the façade that he projected.

"And what gives you the right to call him a cripple, cane or not. You are part of the NYS and you both swore an oath when you got the job, to prevent ALL offences against people and property. You are not above the oath you partook nor can you dismiss it so easily, the oath is there for your protection and the protection of the civilians, and that is why I am punishing you. Anderson and Donovan you are not going on field work after this case until you prove that you can uphold your duty."

"You don't get this worked up when we insult the freak" Donovan argued

"Sherlock has always said that it is disruptive to the work for me to reprimand the team for their less than ideal behaviour. I have worked with him a lot longer than I have you two, you are not the first to insult him nor will you be the last, though you two are the first to not improve your detective skills what so ever and seem happy to be locked in your stations." At that statement Anderson and Donovan looked at Lestrade disbelievingly "You have been working for me for two years now Sherlock six and in that time the people he worked with have become sergeants and DI's myself included. As for your side Anderson Sherlock worked with the other forensic teams quite well and developed the scientific method you use today, I suggest you go talk to your head of department." Lestrade gestured to the door. "I will not change my ruling, now we still have a serial killer on the loose and Sherlock and John have figured more out then the both of you combined." As the two left Lestrade put his head in his hands and took a breath, he agreed with john it had been a stressful day and it was looking to be a long night as well.

"Detective, there is a man on the phone that seems pretty adamant on talking to you personally." A young officer said after knocking on the door.

"Thank you put him through." Lestrade answered the phone as soon as it rang "This is Detective inspector Lestrade."

"Greg, thank god, Sherlock went after the killer. More like he got in the killer cabbie's taxi"

"John, hold on catch me up here for a second."

"The Taxi that Sherlock left in it was the killer, that's how he lured all those people in they were just looking for a ride. The GPS narrowed it down I gave the address to whoever answered the phone the first time" John just finished saying this as the officer put a piece of paper in front of him will all the info he needed.

"Alright I am on my way there, thanks John for the help." Greg hung up the phone and prepared to leave.

On the way to the address Lestrade's car radio reported shots fired at the location he was headed. Lestrade's stomach dropped and so did his foot on the gas. It took an achingly long five minutes to reach the scene, Lestrade was glad to have Donovan beside him to call in the Ambulance. Lestrade flew out of his car and headed towards the right building as Sherlock came out. "You alright?" Lestrade asked doing a quick scan of Sherlock.

"Second floor, eight doors on the right." Sherlock reported seemingly absolutely bored already.

"For god sake Sherlock are you alright?" Lestrade asked again. "Never mind, you're getting checked out by the paramedics anyhow." And Lestrade herded Sherlock to the ambulance that just arrived. Lestrade looked back once more before heading to the room Sherlock indicated. When he arrived he was handed a piece of paper that said gun in room lighter, poison capsules, tedious. When he was done reading the note obviously from Sherlock, Forensics had numbered all the evidence and were taking pictures of the scene. Lestrade examined everything and then he glanced at the window. He let out a slow whistle in admiration of the shooter, Lestrade didn't care that it was a killing shot he could admire a marksmen. Figuring he wasn't going to gain anything else he exited the building hoping to see Sherlock still with the paramedics.

John ran around down a few blocks and hailed a cab to head back to the crime scene. John climbed out of the cab to come face to face with an annoyed looking Donovan.

"Is Sherlock alright?" John asked when he came within arms distance of the angry woman.

"He's perfect as always." Donovan looked disappointed and almost jealous of that fact.

"What happened?"

"The cabbie was shot, I don't know much more than that" Donovan left John standing there after that to talk to another officer. After a few minutes of standing at attention John felt at ease with the chaos around him and enjoyed the moment for a little while waiting for Sherlock to once again drag him off. Turns out John didn't have to wait long.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I'm not the one who just killed a man."

"Oi, keep your voice down." John reprimanded as they walked by Donovan.

"Well, are you alright?"

"He wasn't a very nice man." Was the only answer John gave?

"No I suppose he wasn't, and a bloody awful cabbie, you should have seen the route he took to get here." And with that statement both were trying to stifle their giggles, only to be interrupted by Sherlock's brother.

"Please do grow up, this is a crime scene" the drawled words sobered the two up pretty quickly.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to … Apologize" Mycroft looked as though the very word tasted like dung "To Mr."

"Doctor." Sherlock corrected.

"…Watson, I understand that I may have put you at risk. And I have taken the liberty to put extra surveillance on your parents and sister?"

"My parents are still alive?" John asked stunned.

"Of course they are"

"Oh, I thought they might have, you know drunk themselves to death by now, but alive is good"

Now it was Mycroft's turn to look stunned John seemed to know nothing of his parent's wellbeing. "They have been sober since you joined the army, John" the emotions that danced across Johns face was intriguing to Both Holmes brothers, they studied them as it was the most John had shown to either of them. Shock dropped Johns jaw happiness shone through his eyes and shame danced across his cheeks, and excitement made john vibrate from his head to his toes. For Sherlock it was hard to understand this reaction, Mycroft having a better grasp on emotions could understand one or two emotions, but the warring feelings shown by john baffled him. Both wondered how one person who was so closed off could show so much with so little.

"You are sure they are sober? Not becoming functional alcoholics? Are they happy?" John asked.

"The file says sober, and they appear to be happy." The woman who was in the car from earlier handed Mycroft a folder "Here is their basic information" John hesitantly held out his hand. It wasn't as if John hated his parents, nor was he scared of them it was just he hadn't seen them since he was sixteen. He finally accepted the thin folder from Mycroft's hand "You can keep that John, it's just a copy."

"Thank you." John tucked the folder in his jacket and subconsciously gripped his phone

"If that is all, I am hungry and we best be off." Sherlock grabbed johns arm and practically ran from his brother, even though it was Sherlock who texted him in the first place.

"Why are you excited?" John asked noticing Sherlock's giddiness for the first time.

"Moriarty" Sherlock said and John's eyes widened.

"What is Moriarty?" John asked making sure to keep his voice curious.

"I don't know." John let Sherlock ponder the new puzzle as they walked away from the scene behind them. John knew Seamus wasn't dead even though the rest of the world thought so but it seemed that he kept the name that John christened him with.