The Curious case of John Watson
Chp 25
Ok, so I went back and added another warning at the beginning of chapter 24 because I got a comment about there being no warning. I just want to say that I did leave a warning at the end of chapter 23 saying there would be torture and that you could skip the chapter. I'm not trying to trick people into reading something they don't want to, promise! So while I am very sorry if anyone was offended by the last chapter, there isn't much I can do for you if you don't read the author's notes.
Panic. One of the greatest understatements of all time could be using the word panic to convey just how Sherlock Holmes felt when he discovered that John Watson was taken. Panic was just one word; one word couldn't possibly cover everything the detective was experiencing. His mind was racing, his heart was thundering in his chest, his blood was running cold, and his body was trembling all over. He just wanted to scream, and he did, multiple times. He screamed he yelled and he threw things, but none of it was helping. Nothing was helping. John was gone and Mycroft was busy and Lestrade wasn't answering his phone. He couldn't wait for them; John couldn't wait for them, Sherlock needed to go. He left the flat and walked to where John had indicated he was being followed then began walking back to the flat, analyzing everything and anything that could be a clue. In the street in front of him he could see dark skid marks, they were large and fresh. They appeared dark and elongated, fast moving vehicle then, judging by the space between the tires it was a van of sorts. It had to be what took John; he looked around and could see a surveillance camera jutting off a building to his left.
Three hours and twelve illegal uses of a lifted badge courtesy of D.I. Lestrade later, Sherlock was back at the flat with a pile of evidence. He couldn't make heads or tails of anything. Moriarty was leaving behind multiple trails, it was impossible to tell which leads were real and which were false. He had run the plates of the van which led him back to the old fishing company they had investigated previously and discovered they were actually smugglers. In fact every clue he found just led him back to old cases he and John had solved. It was horribly confusing for even the detective. After hours of hunting down leads some useful, most not, he had come to the conclusion that hunting down answers wasn't the way to go. He had to figure out where Moriarty took him, and he couldn't base it off of any conventional use of the evidence.
Buzz buzz.
Sherlock leapt up and snatched the phone off the coffee table. There was no way he'd be ignoring his phone for a long time. Sherlock looked at the screen quickly. Unknown sender. He took a deep breath and opened the message.
Hello, sexy! Having fun yet, I know I am.
The detective felt his heart stop and the air rush out of his lungs. No. The phone dropped from his hand and onto the ground with a loud thud. God, this really was too much. Moriarty had John, who knew what the monster was doing to him, and Sherlock was powerless to help him. He drew a shaky breath and scrambled to retrieve the phone. It wasn't something he wanted to do, but he had no choice, it was talk to Moriarty or remain in the dark.
Where do you have him?
-SH
He hit the send button and shut his eyes tight. He needed something, anything from the man to get his John back.
No foreplay then? Pity, the doctor has made you boring! Don't worry, I'm teaching him a few tricks.
His body stopped being frozen with panic and started vibrating with rage.
You give him back to me now and I promise you a quick death rather than the slow torturous one I'm planning for you right now.
-SH
Torture? Oh, now we're getting somewhere.
I'm serious, give him back NOW.
-SH
Hmm…no. We're just getting started over here. Really you should see him; he's quite the little soldier. You'd be proud; he's trying so hard to keep a straight face.
A strangled gasp escaped the detective's lips. He could barely type out his response his hands shook so badly.
Stop it. Take me instead.
-SH
Better to let John live, to save him. He couldn't live without John, so if that's where this was headed, he was dead anyway.
Tempting… but no. You're brilliant, don't get me wrong, but John…well he's got a little something I need…and a few I want. I see why you like him now, he's tougher than he looks, if I didn't have such a tight schedule I'd let him hang around a little longer, his body looks marvelous stretched out like this.
Sherlock felt hot tears begin to trail down his cheeks. This couldn't be happening, not to John.
Shut up. I will find you, and when I do, whatever you've done to him I will do to you, and I won't stop until you're begging for death.
-SH
Well, might as well have a bit of fun then shant I? It's been fun talking to you, really, but I need to rest up. Ta!
Sherlock threw the phone across the room once again, finally shattering the damn thing. The great detective fell to his knees with such force that the flat seemed to shake at impact. He let the tears fall freely and braced himself against the floor. John was trapped, being tortured, and it was all his fault. All because he wasn't there when John needed him. The doctor had always come to Sherlock's aide, was always at his beck and call, and he couldn't even repay the favor the one time it truly mattered.
Mycroft and Greg were hesitant at first, but with one look at how distraught the detective was they quickly changed their tunes. It was a big favor he was asking for, he knew that, but he would pay them back when John was back safe and sound. Even with the bombing crisis Mycroft managed to get a group of men together relatively quickly along with Lestrade and a few of his men, Sherlock planned to lead them into every single location that John could be in. He had narrowed it down, but barely, and not with much certainty. From what he'd seen the past two days now Jim was rather nostalgic. It had to be somewhere John and he had worked a case before. Unfortunately the number of places that an influential man such as Moriarty could hold and torture John was considerable. They had over twenty buildings to check out and he had no idea how much time they had. They would start close to home and then branch outward, considering how soon he had received a text it was likely they hadn't traveled far. First stop on their list would be the pool, it was a long shot, but there was no telling what was going through the madman's head. He would go through every centimeter of those buildings until he found John, no matter what it took. The only thing he could think of was the horrible things Moriarty could be doing to John, and how it was the detective's fault it was happening. When he found the consulting criminal there would be hell to pay. Sherlock had John's Browning L9A1 and was prepared to use it, Mycroft had promised his swift removal to a creative interrogation cell but there was no way Moriarty was leaving without at least one mark to remember him by. So Sherlock, Mycroft, and Lestrade gathered their men and headed out in search of the doctor, and they wouldn't come back until they had him.