There Sherlock lay in an old abandoned factory the loud whirring of the fans echoing throughout its empty shell. He watched a shadow dance across the wall the sound of footsteps grew nearer. He shifted his head trying to take in his surroundings. His body felt heavy almost as if it was being weighed down. He turned up his eyes and fixated them on the chair that sat in front of him. There I was my mouth gagged tears flowing freely from my eyes my arms and feet bound to the chair. He tried to get up, but was unable to move. He watched as a man approached me from the side and pointed a gun to my temple. He wanted to scream as loud as he could, but nothing came out. The man pulled the trigger splattering Sherlock's face with blood and brain matter. Finally he found his voice and he began sobbing and screaming for me.
"Sherlock." He heard a muffled voice calling his name. "Sherlock."
He opened his eyes slowly the feeling of the cold floor hit his face. He could only moan softly as drool flowed from his mouth.
"Sherlock."
He finally moved his head and met John's worried eyes. "Ca…Ca…"
John gripped him under his arms and helped him the rest of the way out of the bed. "How are you feeling?" He asked as he helped the detective stand upright.
"Ca…"
"Cass?"
Sherlock nodded and signaled for John to hand him the water glass on the side table for his throat was too dry to allow him to speak. He took a few sips before inhaling deeply. "Where is she?"
John didn't answer him instead ignoring him and retreating into the kitchen. Sherlock followed him wanting a definite answer. He continued to ask and badger John until his friend finally gave in. "HE TOOK HER! BROOK TOOK HER! DON'T YOU REMEMBER ANYTHING?"
Sherlock closed his eyes trying to remember that day, but all he could remember was her spilling coffee onto his shirt which he was still wearing. "Did anyone see anything?"
"I've interviewed hundreds of people not that anyone would admit to anything. You know how it is these days everyone likes to keep their mouths shut."
"Why are you so jumpy?"
John was shocked at how Sherlock was acting almost as if he didn't even care. John turned to him and stared directly into his eyes. "Are you even worried Sherlock?"
"Of course I am, but what is worrying going to do for her? It's not going to help us find her."
"Just…be a little more human. For me. Just a little fucking bit."
Sherlock sighed and allowed himself to express how he was really feeling. "I'm frightened alright? I'm scared to death. I lo…oh it doesn't matter anyways. Where's your laptop?"
"That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about." John walked over to the desk and grabbed his laptop flipping it open.
Sherlock walked over and watched as my bloodied face came into view. Sherlock could feel the rage building up inside him as he watched me cry out for him. His stomach began to turn and Brook knelt down beside me knife in hand.
"What is he doing?"
Brook's face was different it was far angrier than it had ever been. "Sherlock I'm not a happy man right now. Something's come up…something unplanned." Brook turned his eyes and stared directly at them before standing up and slashing a huge gaping wound right across my face the eyesight in my left eye leaving me immediately.
"NOOOO!" Sherlock shouted almost breaking John's laptop in half. Then the screen went dark. "GOD!" He fell to his knees a single tear fell from his eye. He then jumped up and rushed out the door unexpectedly leaving John there to try and piece everything together. It was colder than yesterday and every breath Sherlock took was visible in the cold air. He rushed back to where we had last been standing before we headed over to the park. He recreated everything in his mind, where the car was parked, exactly where we were before we crossed the street and then the one clue that not even the smartest of men would find came to him. He remembered lying on the ground and watching the car pull away. As it did he noticed a very familiar looking dust covering its tires. It was rose in color and he knew immediately. He threw his eyes open just as a taxi carrying John approached him.
"I hate it when you do that!"
Sherlock climbed into the taxi and closed the door. "Scotland Yard."
The two of them bursts into Lestrade's office. He had been busy trying to pin point my exact location, but had been unsuccessful due to lack of evidence. The moment he saw Sherlock he knew he had figured it out. "Tell me where and when."
Sherlock sat down and the two men exchanged glances. "She's near Rosemount Gardens. It's in Glasgow."
"Scotland?"
"No Ireland. Of course Scotland you idiot." Sherlock snapped. "Sorry." Lestrade accepted his apology. "I went for a walk there once they have this hideous rose colored gravel I noticed the same color gravel dust on the car Brook was in that day at the park. If I remember correctly there was an abandoned factory nearby I visited it while I was there just to entertain myself. It's very discreet when I questioned people about it they didn't even seem to remember it was there it's been out of commission for years."
"Well what do we do?" Lestrade asked wanting to know what sort of plan Sherlock had in place.
"You gather up the best men you have. I'll lead you there. I don't want John coming."
John whipped his head around. "What?"
"It's too dangerous."
"So? That never stopped us before."
"You're not coming and that's the end of it. Do you hear me?"
"I'm not a child!"
"LISTEN TO ME!" The room went silent as Sherlock began to grow increasingly more annoyed by John's behavior. "I'M NOT GOING TO RISK LOSING YOU TOO! YOU GO BACK TO BAKER STREET AND STAY WITH MARY! ARE WE CLEAR?"
John could see that this was affecting Sherlock more than he could ever imagine and he reluctantly agreed to stay behind. The plan was then put into motion and John was sent back to wait it out, but that didn't mean he was going to.
Sherlock and Lestrade decided to ride together while Lestrade's men followed him. It was a 6 and a half hour drive and they weren't stopping for anything not even a restroom break. Sherlock felt in his gut that something wasn't right as he turned and looked at the caravan of people behind him.
"You're sure John is back at Baker Street?"
Lestrade assured him that one of his officers had personally driven John back to the flat. He revved up his engine and they took off. No one seemed to notice the bright red Porsche that was following at the end of the line.
Sherlock sat in the passenger seat his fingers pressed to his temples.
"He said something had come up and he was angry about it. I can't seem to figure out what. This is what he always intended to take Cassandra and kill her." He sat there racking his brain. "Why…why hasn't he killed her then? Something is keeping him from doing it."
"He's probably waiting for you."
Sherlock sighed and buried his face in his hands overwhelmed with everything that was going on. He had never been so stressed out in his entire life. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's just get there and end this." He then pulled out a gun and cocked it.
"Now Sherlock…what so you just go in and shoot him in the face is that it? That's how all of this ends."
"I don't have any choice!" His phone went off. It was a text from Brook.
Don't even try to come in here armed. You don't want to piss me off any further.
RB
Sherlock swallowed hard and handed the gun over to Lestrade who had one question to ask the detective.
"Why you?"
Sherlock bit his lip. "Why anyone?" He then began to tell Lestrade his theory. "There was a house fire years ago. A man and his wife were found burned beyond recognition the only survivor was a son."
Lestrade shifted in his seat. "I think I remember that. It was in your old neighborhood."
"Do you remember the last name of that family?"
"Hell it's been so long…" It then occurred to him and his eyes widened. "Jesus Christ."
"The Brook family Caroline and Mark the only survivor was their son Richard. It was deemed an accident the fire started by a shortage in an electrical outlet. I was the only one who knew better and I tried my hardest to get people to listen to the truth. Those people were tortured and then mutilated before the house was set on fire. Maybe he wants revenge for me snooping around in his business who knows. Now just shut up and drive."
The two men said not a single word the rest of the trip which seemed to take longer than anticipated. Finding the garden was one thing the factory was another. It was well hidden not exactly visible to the naked eye.
"It's around here I know it." Sherlock stated as he rolled down the window and looked for any sign of it. "STOP!" He shouted causing Lestrade to slam on the brakes. Sherlock got out and stared at the high walls which were covered in ivy. He raced around to the opposite side and found the fence open and ready for his arrival. The cars piled in to the abandoned parking lot. Sherlock watched a few ambulances pass by him and he glanced at Lestrade who shrugged his shoulders.
"It's a precautionary thing."
Sherlock's heart began to race as he approached the entrance to the building. He stared at the double doors a note had been written on them.
The party's upstairs.
RB
He opened the door and entered into the cold building. It was dark and Sherlock had a hard time finding the stairwell.
"Here let me help you!" Brook's voice shouted over the loud speaker as the lights flickered on. "Your girlfriend's a good kisser Sherlock. Now I can see what all the fuss is about."
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Sherlock screamed before noticing the stairwell in the distance. He quickly raced up the stairs and as he reached the top he was knocked out cold.
John sat in his car which was parked around the corner but close enough to where he could hear everything. It had been quite some time since Sherlock had entered the building and the fact that he hadn't yet come out worried him. He stepped out of his car and gently closed the door. He reached in his pocket and gripped the handle of his gun assuring him that it was still there. All he could do was listen and wait which was harder than he could ever have anticipated.
When Sherlock came to his head was throbbing and the room was spinning. He went to move his arms only to find them bound behind his back. He felt someone grab his coat and hoist him up into a kneeling position. He saw me sitting in the chair my head hung and for a moment he thought I was dead. "Cassandra…"
"Don't try to talk to her." Brook exclaimed as he entered the room a smug look on his face. "How are you feeling Sherlock?" He didn't reply which only made the situation worse. "Want to see what I've done to her beautiful face?" He then grabbed my hair and pulled it hard lifting my head up. Sherlock began to cry as his eyes glanced at my now battered and bloodied face. "I think one more cut should do the trick…" he pulled out his pocket knife and flashed it in front of Sherlock's face.
"Please…please…let it be me not her."
Brook just laughed as he slashed across my cheek sending me screaming at the top of my lungs.
"STOP IT!"
John could hear us screaming from outside and his army training immediately kicked in. He rushed passed everyone including Lestrade who had no time to react to his presence.
"JOHN NO!" He then disappeared behind the doors. "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! EVERYBODY STAND BY!"
Brook got great amusement out of Sherlock's pain. "You know…I had wanted to kill her, but I don't think I will. She has something of great value to me." He then took the knife and pointed it at my stomach. "Congratulations…daddy! YOU JUST COULDN'T HOLD OUT COULD YOU SHERLOCK?"
"He didn't know…" I managed to say through my tears and the pain.
"I can't kill her now. Killing her won't make you suffer enough, but I know something that will."
Just then the wall rattled slightly and Brook reached for his gun shooting one round into the wall. A loud thud was heard followed by John's agonizing cries for help.
"JOHN!" Sherlock screamed as he felt someone cut the ties from his wrists. He got up and raced to his friend who lay in a pool of blood on the stairwell. "LESTRADE!" That was the signal and his men began to storm the place only to find that Richard Brook had all but vanished.
Lestrade met Sherlock and John in the hallway. "I NEED A PARAMEDIC!" He shouted all the while trying to keep John calm.
John's face was beginning to turn pale as he continued to bleed out through the wound in his back.
"Sherlock…"
"Just stay quiet."
"Sherlock I can't…I can't feel my legs."
"Shhh you're going to be fine." The paramedics rushed to him and pushed Lestrade and Sherlock out of the way so they could tend to John and I's wounds.
Lestrade and Sherlock stood outside and watched as the paramedics removed John and me from the abandoned building. Sherlock ran to my side and grabbed my hand tightly.
"Go with John. He needs you more. I'll be fine. It's just an eye at least I can still see your face."
He wiped his nose on his jacket and kissed my forehead before saying what I had wanted to hear all these months. "I love you." He squeezed my hand one last time returning to John.
I couldn't help, but feel an immense amount of guilt for the way things had turned out. Brook was still out there and this would never be over until he was dead. I thought giving myself up would end it all, but instead it started a war. He would be back with a vengeance and nothing was going to stop him.
I lay in the hospital bed somewhat distraught over losing the sight in my left eye, but at least I could still see Sherlock and one day I'd be able to see our child's beautiful face. A knock came at the door and I turned to see who it was.
"How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked as he walked in and sat at the edge of the bed.
"Never mind me. How's John?"
Sherlock lowered his head and choked on his words. "He…he's…the doctors' don't know if he'll be able to walk again. I tried to protect him and I let him down. I let you down."
"Stop that." I grabbed his face and pulled it up to look at me. "You did the best you could. No one is perfect. Not even Sherlock Holmes." I looked away remember how my face must look to him. "I probably look hideous right now."
"You're beautiful. You're perfect." I turned back and leaned my head against him. "Do you think I'll be a good father?"
I thought back to how I had answered him the first time he had asked me and how much it had affected him. "I think you'll be a great father. A little anal, but you'll do fine."
He reached down and grabbed my hand kissing it. "Here's to second chances."
Thanks for reading guys! I am going to write a sequel so don't worry I would never leave you wondering what will happen to John :)
