I ought to update this story. It's nearing the end, trust me.
I have another story ready to be published. So perhaps soon, it will be up? Thoughts? If you want to know details about the upcoming story I am about to publish, please PM me.

Chapter 25

Sherlock's POV

Lestrade wasn't in his office.

In fact, it didn't look like it was occupied at all. There were blank pieces of paper scattered everywhere. On the west side of the room, boxes lines the wall but they all appeared to be filled with little to nothing. Picture frames, books or any personal memorabilia was no longer crowded the room. The laptop, desktop computer, router and cameras were removed as well. Everything that ever showed a sign of Lestrade had vanished.

Slowly backing out of he room, he accidentally bumped into Sergeant Dimmock. I was less than pleased to see him.

"Where's Detective Lestrade?" I queried, averse.

Dimmock glanced at me, checking me from my head to my feet in less than a second. He narrowed his eyes sceptically. "And why do you need to know?" He retorted with such resent that I wanted to poke his eyes to restrict him from ever glancing at me again.

"It's important. Where is he?" I repeated. By the change in his expression, I assumed I had intimidated him enough to back off. But of course, with Dimmock's jealous and secretive personality, he stared at me with haughtiness.

"That's none of your concern." He quipped. At this, I clenched my teeth hard.

"It is my concern." I growled with a edgy tone I had never used before.

Dimmock's face relaxed into that of awe and confusion. "It's strictly police business. And last time I checked, you aren't part of the team."

Dimmock shoved past me and I whirled around, grabbing him by the shoulder. He let out a loud yelp earning the attention of fellow co-workers. Dimmock gave them a sheepish smile and a slight nod of his head and they returned to their posts.

"Wherever Lestrade is, that's his business. If he left without telling you, then he obviously does not want to be found." Dimmock sneered. He roughly shrugged out of my grasp and walked away.

Sighing in frustration, I left Scotland Yard and proceeded back to my brother's car. I jumped in and as soon as I was in my seat, my cell phone buzzed. Curious, I took it from my pocket and checked. I hadn't received a text in months.

Sherrrrlooock, John's in trouble agaaaiiinnn!

x M

Moriarty?

I felt a surge of adrenaline rush through my veins at the thought of John being held captive. Again, my phone buzzed.

But I'm afraid you won't be able to save him.

x M

Angry at the idea of infidelity and my misplaced trust in others, I texted back. I couldn't believe I had trusted such a sadistic, masochistic monster. What, bringing me over to John's empty house and pretending that he was dead isn't enough? Moriarty wants to play games again? So all our running, hiding and researching was a sham? Was this all just a set up?

Stop this, James. Let him go. Let John
come home.

- S

A second later, my phone buzzed again.

Think again, Sherlock
Are you that oblivious?
Think, Sherlock. Deduce.

x M

A haiku. This texter sent a haiku. There isn't much I could detect from the message, other than the initial.

There once was a bug named Sherlock
His life was always full of bad luck
And the John he once sought
Found a web and got caught
And forever will he tragically be stuck

x M

A limerick. It wasn't a very good one, but I understood the format. Whoever this man was liked playing games and knew what was happening.

For the next few minutes, I received four more text messages that I didn't bother to check.

My mind starts swirling around the idea that Moriarty was behind all of this. He started off as a freaky stalker, then he persuaded me that I understand who he is and made me believe that he actually changed. Now I knew that I shouldn't have trusted anybody at all. Everyone - including my own brother - were liars. I can only trust myself.

I leaned back against the headrest, closing my eyes as I sighed loudly. I didn't know the first place to go if I went searching for John. I could attempt to weasel information out of Mr. and Mrs. Watson...if they really are his parents. Or perhaps I could contact Moriarty. He might end up revealing valuable information. Then again, Moriarty was smart. He had me fooled for months. He was probably the one who had us chased back at the school. Oh, he definitely had me blind sided. And I was too oblivious and caught up with other matters.

I opened my eyes to see a young, worried girl peeking at me through my wind shield. Her hair was pulled to the right side of her head and tied with a pony tail that hung loosely on her shoulder. Her eyebrows were bunched together, creating numerous wrinkles. Her brown eyes stared at me in desperation as she clutched her science book in her arms. Noticing my stare, she came around to the driver's side. I rolled down the window.

"Molly," I greeted her half-heartedly. "what are you doing?" Although there was no need for the small talk, I was rather curious as to why she looked worried.

She bit her lower lip, battling the internal argument in her mind. 'Should I talk to him, or leave him alone?' It is so easy to see what people worry about solely based on their facial expressions. It's quite annoying.

"Um, sorry to be bothering you..." She said quietly. "I was, erm, wondering if you knew where James was? He hasn't spoken to me in a while and he didn't meet up with me today like we do every Saturday."

I shook my head. "Sorry, Molly, I haven't heard from him either."

I expected her to nod and leave, but she stood in place with a worried expression that only seemed to deepen my curiosity. She opened her mouth to say something, but quickly closed it.

"Is there something you wish to say?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She looked away quickly, scanning the area. "James...he...he told me he was going somewhere later."

"Really? Where'd he say he was going? I queried.

"I don't remember..." She said, apologetically

I sighed. "Well, okay. I better be off, then."

"Wait!" She shouted, her fingers curling over the window that I rolled up halfway. "Let me come with you. Maybe I can call him and ask where he is."

I highly doubt that he would tell her, but she's the best lead I've got in order to find John.

"Alright."

She opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. She clumsily grabbed the seat belt and secure herself in place. Her text book was on her lap. She sat there for a while in silence. It was awkward.

"S-should I call him n-"

"Yeah." I caught her off, accidentally. I couldn't get past the awkward feeling that lingered in the air. It was unsettling.

She reached into her jacket pocket and took out her iPhone. She tapped in her password and went straight for the Calling App. She dialed James's number and waited with her phone on speaker. We shared glances while the phone rang.

It rung once, twice, and even a third time.

Molly sighed and almost hung up when it unexpectedly stopped ringing. There were brief moments of silence before someone spoke up.

"Molly?"

"Hello, James?" Molly asked, uncertainly.

"Yeah, yeah, it's me. Where are you?"

"Where are you?" She counter-argued.

The was a long pause. "Molly, just tell me where you are. I'll come get you."

"No, James, don't worry about it. Just tell me where you are, are you downtown?" Molly asked, attempting to remain calm and oblivious.

The line was silent for a while before we both realized he had hung up. Molly turned her phone off with a worried expression on her face; once that illustrated her concern and her pain.

"It's okay, Molly." I tried to comfort her. "He picked up."

"What's the point in that if he doesn't tell us where he is?" She wailed.

I smirked deviously. "Because when he answered, it granted me access to his location."

Molly looked out the window. "This is weird."

I frowned at her, rather insulted. "Weird?"

"Yes." She nodded her head, turning her attention towards me. "Weird. Something's not right, Sherlock. This...this. Everything. Don't you think it's a little odd?"

I paused. Well, yes, I admit it is extremely bizarre. It's quite the predicament I've caught myself in. It's all a little bit too...surreal, as if all of this was made up or pretend. What are the chances of such situations occurring?

First, we have James. He was the bad guy. He was running after me, stalking us. Then all of a sudden, he was good. He pretended to be my friend. He pretended to help John and I figure out what's going on only for us to find out that he's bad again. If I had the courage - the strength - to beat him up when I saw him sitting on John's bed earlier today, I would have.

Second, John. John's a peculiar subject. When I first met him, he was innocent, vulnerable, and genuine. I couldn't let anything bad happen to him. He absentmindedly became my number one priority. All that mattered was him.

Now he's gone and I don't know where to find him. I knew he was faking his diagnosis. How could he fake having such an illness? How could he do that to me? All the evidence was there: his sleeping patterns weren't what they were supposed to be, he barely took any medication, he never visited the hospital, and his so-called 'parents' were almost never around. God, how could I be so oblivious?

I felt like slamming my head on the dashboard. I'm an idiot, an absolute idiot. I let John go like water through my fingers. He was the one person I trusted and it turns out he's psychotic.

Is no one ordinary any more?

Suddenly, my vision became blurry and my head pounded. It was unexpected. The pounding in my head turned into a dull thudding, but it was as if my entire skull was expanding. I looked over at Molly who stared at me with a blank expression. She held no emotion whatsoever. She looked exactly like a statue.

I cringed and grabbed my head.

"Ah!" I groaned, tearing at my hair. "M-Molly, help me, please."

But I didn't feel her move. In fact, I couldn't feel her presence at all. Forcing my eyes open despite the need to keep them closed, I saw that she wasn't there. No one was sitting in the car. I looked around, wondering where she could have run off to. Instead, I found myself in the middle of a dark room.

I wasn't in the car any more.

A slight panicked feeling rose in my chest and the thudding in my head increased. The darkness in the room was overwhelming. Having the inability to see put me in a very exposed, defenceless position.

What was happening?!

"Sherlock..." A soft, nearly inaudible voice echoed. I spun around in a full circle, feeling dizzy, lost, and confused. "...wake up, Sherlock..."