"Bored!" Sherlock shouted as he stormed into the room.
John sighed in resignation as he came to the realization that getting any work done at this point was hopeless. Leaving a bored Sherlock alone was a really bad idea. The wall really couldn't handle any more bullets.
"No cases, huh?" John asked. It had been a few days since Sherlock had gotten any cases at all and even the last one that he got had been a really petty one and the fact that he had even accepted that one was a testimony to his desperation. "Maybe you should pick up your brothers calls. He seems to be quite persistent on talking to you; said something about it being a matter of national security"
"Everything is a matter of national security with him" scoffed Sherlock as he threw himself onto his armchair.
"Well whatever it is, it has to better than nothing -?" John couldn't finish before the doorbell rang. And the door opened a few seconds later to reveal a disturbed looking Lestrade.
"Greg, you okay?" Enquired John as the inspector really did look a bit too pale.
"Yeah, I'm fine John…" He said as he took a seat.
"I'll get you a cup of tea, yeah?" Asked John as he got up to make some. The inspector looked like he really could use some.
"Thanks mate. That would be great" Lestrade replied gratefully.
"So?" Asked Sherlock, now sitting up and looking at Lestrade expectedly. "You clearly have something for me. So out with it."
John shook his head in disapproval, but didn't bother protesting his friend's lack of compassion. Besides, Lestrade was used to it by now.
"I have been looking into a possible kidnap case of a seventeen year old boy. It seemed quite cut and dry at first, kid goes missing after school, and parents reported it to the police after he doesn't show up. Except the kid was magic" Explained Greg. John looked up with interest, forgetting all about the tea he was supposed to be getting as he heard the word magic. Despite not being a wizard himself, he had always been very interested in magic unlike most of the non-magic out there who cowered with fear at the very mention of the word. "So obviously, I get the case as I'm one of the few wizards in the department-"
"You barely qualify as a wizard!" Sherlock scoffed. "You have barely any magic in you."
"Hey! I can use enough magic to defend myself!" exclaimed Lestrade sounding outraged. "Besides, you are hardly one to talk-"
"Greg" John stopped him as he saw Sherlock stiffen. Magic was a sour topic for him. Holmes family is an old magic one and a famous one at that; but he had never seen Sherlock use magic, not even when their lives were in danger. Sherlock had never offered an explanation and he had never asked for one he obviously didn't want to talk about it. He figured he would tell him when he was ready to, but knowing Sherlock that could very well be never.
Greg looked up at what he had now come to know as John's captain face and sighed in resignation before continuing. "Well, as I was saying, the kid was gone. We were expecting a ransom demand as the family was quite well off, so it was expected. But none came. And today after two days of disappearance, we found the body." He paused and took a deep breath and looked Sherlock dead in the eye. "With the blood was all drained out."
Sherlock was quite as he folded his hands before his face in his thinking position. "I need to see the body. " He demanded after a minute of thinking.
"I figured you would." Greg said as he got up. He knew of Sherlock's aversion to police cars and correctly assumed that he and John would follow after him. "Meet me at Barts. I told Molly to expect you guys."
Sherlock was silent as he and John made their way to the hospital. As the cab reached the hospital, Sherlock all but shot out of it and into the building, not bothering to wait for John who sighed and followed after him after paying the cabbie. As he made his way to the mortuary, he couldn't shake of a feeling of impending doom that seems to be surrounding this case.
He didn't reach the morgue before he was met with a pale Sherlock (well, paler than usual) making his way back.
"Well, that was quick" John said, confused "You're already done?"
"I need to talk to Mycroft" Sherlock replied solemnly, not quiet looking at him. He didn't wait for a reply from John before stalking off leaving John to follow after him.
"Hold on, what happened?" John asked, worried now. Sherlock didn't seem himself and it was clear that something was quite wrong.
Sherlock didn't reply and just kept walking out the hospital and expectedly looked to the street and sure enough, there was Mycroft's limo waiting for him. John wasn't sure if he would also be welcome, but quite frankly he didn't care, so he followed after him.
Mycroft was alone in the back of the limo as the entered. He stared at his brother, his face expressionless as usual.
"You have seen the body I assume." Mycroft said to Sherlock almost nonchalantly.
"Obviously" Sherlock sneered back. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well, I have been trying to call you" Mycroft shrugged.
"Oh please!" Sherlock huffed. "We both know if you were seriously trying to get me to listen, you would have shown up at Baker Street."
"It's being taken care of. I actually have another case that require your attention" Mycroft said dismissively, Pulling out a folder and offering it to Sherlock
"I don't care about you taking care of it Mycroft" Sherlock said, ignoring the file offered to him. "Why is a pure blood dying of low priority?!"
"Hang on… A pure blood?!" John exclaimed. Pure bloods or elementals as they are sometimes called are immortal beings that formed the most powerful of the magical families. They are supposed to be very powerful wizards with affinity over any one or more elements. They are very few in numbers now after centuries of wars among themselves that had killed off a good percent of them. "I thought they were immortal. How do you kill a pure blood?!"
"Really John" Sherlock rolled his eyes looking at him. "Most pure blood that have ever lived are dead now. They don't age and die naturally, ergo they were killed. So it's obviously possible"
John felt stupid for asking but in his defense he had never heard of any way to kill one and as far as he knew after the wars between the old magical families, they had all signed a treaty saying they wouldn't kill each other which meant that they weren't killing each other anymore and so how could a wizard or a non-magic kill a pure blood?
"It's being handled Sherlock" Mycroft seemed to be ignoring John's existence and continued. "You need to stay out of it."
"Is that a threat?" Sherlock said incredulously.
"It's a warning dear brother." Mycroft continued calmly. "You are messing with some very powerful people. And as things are now, I'm afraid you really don't stand a chance."
Sherlock tensed at the implications of his words and said nothing as he opened the limo door and stormed off. John was about to follow after him when Mycroft stopped him.
"Dr. Watson" He said "This case is not like Sherlock's usual cases. Please tread carefully."
Even though Mycroft said this in a casual manner, John couldn't help but sense that there was real worry behind the words. So, instead of resorting to a snarky response he just nodded before making his way after Sherlock.
As they spoke, he hadn't realized that the limo had actually been moving but it seemed it was as he found himself outside Baker Street. As John walked in, he saw Mrs. Hudson make her way upstairs with a plate of cookies. As she saw him, she stopped and smiled at him.
"Yoo-hoo dear" she said, sounding more chipper than usual. "Have you met Lyanna yet?"
"Lyanna?" John enquired, frowning.
"Oh didn't Sherlock tell you about her?" She said, surprised. "She used to stay in your room before you came along. Oh, she's an angel dear, you'll love her. Come along now."
John followed after her, his interest peeked. Sherlock had a female flat mate? Now this he had to see.
"I've got some Choco- chipped biscuits for you dear, your favorite" Mrs. Hudson cooed as she entered their flat. John could hear Sherlock's violins screech before he got through the door in a way that he had only ever heard in the presence of Mycroft. Well, this cannot be good.
He stopped in his tracks as he took in the girl who was sitting, looking quite at home, in Sherlock's armchair. With her long scarlet hair, piecing blue eyes and pale kin, she almost looked like a goddess and so very out of place in their messy apartment; which was to be expected after Sherlock had been bored for quite some time now.
"Thank you Mrs. Hudson" She said grinning at her, seeming not at all brought down by Sherlock who was sulking at the corner besides the window and occasionally torturing his violin.
She seem to suddenly notice John gaping at her at the door and smiled at him politely before getting up and waking over.
"Hi. " She said, offering him her hand, which he eagerly shook. "You must me Dr. Watson. Mrs. Hudson has told me a lot about you."
"Some of it good, I hope." He said, letting go of her hand bashfully after realizing he had been shaking it for longer that what would be deemed appropriate. "And please, call me John."
"John." She said, grinning at him. "I'm Lyanna as I'm sure she would have told you by now. I used to live here. Briefly though."
"So, how do you know Sherlock?" John wondered.
"That's not important." Sherlock said before Lyanna could respond, making her frown. "She's here about the boy."
"The boy" John asked, having all but forgotten about the murdered boy. "Are you a detective too then?"
"Well.." Lyanna said, hesitantly. "Of sorts"
"Oh you said he was a pure blood" John said, remembering the conversation that took place in the Limo. "But he's from a family of wizards. How's that possible?"
"He's obviously not their real son" Sherlock said impatiently, not even looking at John as he answered.
"You mean he was adopted?"
"More like took in for protection" Said Lyanna, thoughtfully.
"Why did he need protection?" Asked John. Feeling like he was missing something.
"He's not the first pure blood that has been targeted." Lyanna said.
"There has to be more to it than that if it's got you interested" Sherlock mused, looking back at Lyanna
"Do you know how many pure-bloods have gone missing in the past month Sherlock? No?" She half taunted him, a half smile playing about her lips which earned her a scowl from the consulting detective. "This is the seventh one."
Sherlock's eyes widened at that. His violin all but forgotten he stalked back to Lyanna.
"Blood from seven pure-bloods" He said, sounding almost excited. "You know what that means.. It's a summoning spell."