"Why didn't you contact me sooner Sherlock? You know you are being targeted and that John could also be in danger. As soon as you thought something was amiss you should have alerted me." Victoria was angry, but if Sherlock was in a better state of mind, he would have realized that it was just a front for how worried she was. Victoria was fully aware of the feelings her brother had for John Watson.
"I thought he..." Sherlock mumbled.
"What?"
"I thought he..." Sherlock mumbled again to his sister's annoyance.
"Sherlock you have to speak up. You know I could never understand you when you mumbled, I'm not a mind reader."
"I thought he left me and didn't want to even tell me. That's what Richard did, and that's what Redbeard did, so why should I expect to be treated any better by John because he saved my life? I have no reason to think he might want to stay around. If there is one thing I have learned from you and mummy, it's that bonds can form quickly under certain situations, but can diminish just as easily. He saved my life I made him clothes, there is no reason for me to expect him to stay. I am not a reason to stay."
"Oh, Sherlock. Not everyone who says that they care about you is lying. You should know better than that. People show how they care differently. Something I can tell you for sure about, John Watson, is that he cares for you, and this is not his M.O. for what he does for someone he cares about. I will find him, Sherlock, I promise you that, but you have to do something for me and for him before I do." Victoria was intense, clearly trying to get through to her littlest brother. "You have to find yourself, too. Use the techniques mum and I taught you. Get rid of these notions that you have in your head, the idea that you don't mean anything to anyone. I have to go now. Mycroft will be over soon. I have calls to make and people to question. John Watson is my top priority." As she walked out she was already making calls and giving orders.
Sherlock, on the other hand, only managed to hear some of what his sister had told him. Once he told her what his thoughts were, it was like ripping open a stitched up wound. Sherlock felt every single thread pull and break and rip at his metaphorical skin. The pain was so great that he was completely numb. Sherlock just stayed seated in the living room of his temporary quarters staring at the coffee table in front of him. Sherlock never noticed Mrs. Hudson bustling in and out of the room with tea and biscuits and with different types of meals. Sherlock never noticed his brother enter the room or when he left many hours later. It wasn't until someone knocked in a very distinctive pattern on his door that he was jolted out of his thoughts.
John stirred groggily from where he was standing, a headache forming from the back of his head. The last thing he remembered was walking into the house of the man who was not normally on his route. The resident of the house closed the door and then... nothing. No, not nothing, pain. He was hit in the back of the head. John tried to move but realised he couldn't. His hands were tied above his head. There was a bag over his head, and was why he couldn't see anything even when he opened his eyes. His mouth hurt due to the gag that was in it. John Watson had been kidnapped and strung from the ceiling very much like a person that was about to be in a lot of pain.
"Oh good, you're finally awake. 'Was wondering if I hit you a bit too hard. The boss wouldn't have liked that." John heard what he thought was the scraping of a chair on the floor, along with heavy footsteps that seemed to be getting closer. "Oh, don't try to act like you are all calm and collected. I've been in here the whole time. It sure did take you a while to realize your situation. Sorry to say, but it's going to get worse." The man seemed to stop fairly close to him sitting in the chair; John figured, he dragged with him. "When the boss gets a new toy, he doesn't play nicely with it. You've seen kids who, stomp and break their toys into little pieces; the boss can be worse than that. He does it slower and with more malice. The boss could be loving, or he could be cruel, with you, who knows. Look forward to seeing how long you last." There was cruel amusement in the man's voice as he informed John of his fate. A fate he wished he did not have.
"Hey Sherl, how've you been, did you miss me? I hope you haven't been too down in the dumps while I've been away?" Richard Brook entered the room, pushing the coffee table aside and squatting down to be at Sherlock's eye level. "Are you stunned silent and unmoving due to yours truly or is it because dear Doctor Watson is missing. Yes, I know about dear old Watson. I thought you told me you would never move on; you said you would wait for me to come back. Now here I come from my far away travels to someone sneaking into my bed and lying next to my Sherl. You know I don't like to share Sherlock. I get very protective of my property." Richard stood up and started walking back out the door not bothering to put the coffee table back where he found it. "I better be off. I'll be back Sherlock, I always am, I do hope you remember that this time. You might want to find out who your new mail carrier is though, I think your last one quit." The only sounds were the closing of the door and Sherlock's erratic breathing.
Betaed by the wonderful CrazzySockGirl!