Dr John Watson watched his partner Sherlock Holmes rocked back and forth, palm in his ears, humming a discordant tone. He wasn't surprised that Sherlock would be like this; especially with the week they had.
They had been chasing a murderer last night. Sherlock didn't get much sleep in three days which was not unusual. John stood up to make a cup of tea. He thought he needed to write that case for the blog.
He boiled the water. "Sherlock?" He asked from the doorway of the kitchen. "You want tea?"
Sherlock showed up in the doorway. "My brain is rutting; I need a case."
"You just have a case, in the meantime, you need to eat, Sherlock."
"Eating is boring, John," Sherlock said, but he seated himself on the dinner table waiting for John's pasta.
After he ate Sherlock left John to write the blog for last nights case. John heard Sherlock rustle around the lab converted bedroom. He began writing when he heard Mrs Hudson enter the flat with a plate of biscuits.
"Thank you, Mrs Hudson," John said taking the biscuits off her hand.
"Is Sherlock all right?" Mrs Hudson asked crossing her arms.
"Why?" John asked a tad bit confused.
Mrs Hudson frowned. "When I got in here two hours ago he was rocking. I never saw him do that."
John frowned, Mycroft told him when he abducted him that first time quite deliberately that Sherlock was on the autism spectrum. Apparently, Big brother didn't tell Mrs Hudson about it huh? John thought. "It is not my place to tell you, Mrs Hudson, asked him, yourself?"
Sherlock strode out of his laboratory looking as though he saw a ghost. "What?" He asked looking at John and Mrs Hudson and back again and he was frowning with suspicion.
John stood at the threshold between the seating area and the kitchen, with one hand on his back. "Give us a moment, Mrs Hudson."
The elderly woman looked bewildered but left the room. "Sherlock?" John said after Mrs Hudson left.
Sherlock spun to face John. "What are you talking about, John?"
John sighed. "Why haven't you told her you are autistic? She's worried, Sherlock."
The doorbell was ringing outside. "Wait for a second, I am getting this." He bounced two at a time downstairs.
John walked the seventeen steps and opened the door a man and a woman stood husband and wife; that much was clear. "What can I help you with?"
The man looked at his wife as if willing her to speak. "We are here to speak with Sherlock Holmes."
John sighed. Sherlock wasn't dressed today; he was wearing a dressing gown over a teeshirt and a pyjama bottoms. "Wait a minute." He climbed back up. "Sherlock, get dress, we have a client."
Sherlock dutifully went upstairs to their bedroom. John followed him up. "Sherlock?"
"Yes, I am dressing."
"We're not done with Mrs Hudson."
"I know." Sherlock clambered down wearing his customary suit while John followed on his heels.
John fetched the clients down at the front landing. When he was up Sherlock was pacing the living room. He cleared his throat. "Sherlock, this is Doctor Carlson and his wife Doctor Andreka ."
Sherlock looked at them with his piercing gaze. "Mid-forties, surgeon and oncologist, a kid in boarding school." The clients stunned sat at the sofa, while they sat on their chairs. "How can we help you with?" Sherlock said.
The man handed Sherlock a piece of paper. "Our son, sent this to us via post today, he was from Newton School in Chippenham."
Sherlock looked at the piece of paper. "Ah… It's a book cypher." John lent in to see what was the matter. "Do you know what book it is, sir?"
The man shook his head. "However we brought his books." He said.
"When did you last saw your son?" John asked reading the book titles.
Dr Andreka looked worried. "We last saw Maximilian this weekend." She frowned.
"And How was he acting?" Sherlock asked.
The woman looked at Sherlock and frowned. "He is feeling sick, stayed in his room that whole weekend."
Sherlock sighed. "When did this," he said, holding the piece of paper to them, "came in the mail?"
"Yesterday."
Sherlock nodded. "So was he talking about what was going on at school?" He asked playing with a stress ball in his right hand.
"No." Carlson looked at him. "He never told us, teenagers, as you know."
"Okay," John said. "Mr Holmes would call you if he would be taking your case, Sherlock?"
"Right," Sherlock said, Carlson and Andreka looked at the books. "You can pick these books up tomorrow."
She sighed. "Alright, I hope you could help us, Mr Holmes."
John let them outside. As soon as he was inside, Sherlock said, without preamble. "The kid is deeply in trouble."
John looked at him. "Why is that?"
Sherlock looked at him like he was stupid. "Why write a book cypher? Something is happening at Newton. Think, John?"
"Where should we start?" John asked.
Sherlock opened the bin where the books were kept. "First we need to find the book."
"There are at least a hundred books in here, Sherlock, How are we going to get what the book is," John said, a tad bit outrage.
Sherlock looked at him, annoyance in his eyes. "The internet is a good research martial, John, especially for a young kid."
Sherlock got his laptop from the coffee table, started his research. John watched patiently, as he checked Maximillian's Facebook account, then his twitter and his Tumblr. Then he tapped John's arm. "I got it, John, looked up Gracie Cooper's Beyond the Graveyard."
John dutifully searched the book. "Sherlock, there's nothing of that title."
"Ah.." Sherlock thought. "We need to go the bookstore… I mean rather you."
"Right…" John knew Sherlock having issues with crowds; especially it is September and kids were going back to school. "I'll go, I will be back in an hour. Try talking to Mrs Hudson about…"
He heard Sherlock said. "John, for god sakes."
John left the house and went to local a mom and pop bookstore near Baker Street. He and Sherlock got together over a year ago after the pink lady's case. It hadn't been easy. Sherlock's autism made certain aspects of the relationship hard, like touching; but they worked around the difficulty. John was amazed at how he and Sherlock had to survive not just that they had thrived.
"Sir, may I help you?" A sales associate asked startling him.
"Where can I find Gracie Cooper's Novel, Beyond the Graveyard." He asked after he had recovered.
She points him to a rack wherein there were young adult novels. "Thank you," John said. She gave him a smile. His phone buzzed in his pocket, a text message, he got his phone from his pocket and read the text,
"Where are you?" SH
"Bookstore."
John smiled, he thought it odd that Sherlock texted like that even with Mycroft. He got the Gracie Cooper book, paid and dart out of the store. He d-toured from the bookstore to the nearby Tesco to buy food.
Again Sherlock texted him. "Where are you?" SH.
Supermarket buying food, Sherlock.
Come home. SH
I am coming home in ten minutes.
John rolled his eyes and paid for his goods; Sherlock was such an insecure mess sometimes. He walked from the supermarket home. He was home in five minutes.
When he returned to the flat, Sherlock was playing, his violin something Bach. He loved listening to Sherlock play. He cleared his throat. "Oh, John, You're back. Where is the book?"
John handed him the book. "Are you sure that was the book?"
"As sure as I could be based on this is book according to his Facebook, yes," Sherlock said.
"Okay then."
Sherlock got the book out of its plastic wrapping. "I'll be the one to decipher the book; You write." He started deciphering the code. "page 31, line 11, and 3rd word. HELP." He continued with his work, until the end.
John read what they had written. "Help me, my maths teacher is touching me down there. He told me would kill you if I told, you guys. I have been in touch with people who were like me, online."
Sherlock was silent, looking the at the paper. "John, call them, tell the parents I am taking the case. Don't tell them about the letter."
John gave a token protest. "Sherlock, no, you need to tell them."
Sherlock sighed began pacing the room, his thumb on his mouth. "Do you want them to march at the school getting angry, no. because you're going to get themselves killed."
"Yes, I understand."
End of Chapter 1