You can't wake up, this is not a dream.
Boy, is it nice to be back. Sorry for the delay, but I did have a fun trip! Please enjoy!
Sharkisha the 3rd – Sorry to say he's simply a civilian, but that would be a twist, wouldn't it? Thank you!
Celestial Glowhead – Thank you so much. The chapters in this story are a lot shorter across the board, but I've been working on content. Also, yeah, anyone who messes with either of the Baker Street boys is in for a world of hurt. Thank you once again!
Sherlock was making phone calls the minute he pulled himself up off the floor. As usual he ignored his body's cries of pain and focused on the job at hand. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the phone to be picked up.
"Holmes?" came the groggy voice of Agent Coulson. Sherlock couldn't help but wonder what time zone he was in. Was he on a mission? "I assume this is important."
"John's run off."
Sherlock could hear some shuffling on the other end of the call. "And this is different than usual, I take it."
"He's been attacked twice in the last twenty-four hours, and now he's gone and run off on his own in his usual heroic idiocy."
"Attacked? Did you report it to SHIELD?"
"Must have slipped my mind," Sherlock snapped. "I was a bit preoccupied with the repercussions it would have on my flatmate."
"What were the attacks, exactly?"
"He was drugged. I don't know what with and I'm not sure what the effects are quite yet. He's had a noticeably harder time gathering back what little control he had over his abilities though."
"You think that's caused by what he was dosed with?"
"That's one theory." Sherlock shifted on his feet and accidentally vocalized his pain.
"Are you hurt?" Coulson asked quickly. "Did he hurt you?"
"Not incredibly. Our number one priority right now is finding John. I have reason to believe that SIP is behind all of this."
"SIP? Alright, this is too much for over the phone. Be at London headquarters in an hour." Coulson hung up.
Sherlock quickly dialed the next number. As soon as the phone was answered Sherlock dove right into an explanation. "John has been attacked a second time and he's run off."
"What?" Lestrade said, trying to keep up with the information thrown at him. "John was attacked again? How bad?"
"He wasn't hurt but he was drugged again and now he's run off. It's possible what he was drugged with is affecting his abilities in some way – he's been struggling to control them." Sherlock looked over his shoulder at where he had been thrown. "He isn't stable right now."
"I'll keep an eye out for him, yeah? I'll get some people looking for him."
"And Lestrade…" Sherlock hesitated. "Stay safe. This is a SHIELD level issue you're dealing with."
"Got it. We'll find him, Sherlock." The DI hung up.
The next phone call Sherlock was a part of was not one he initiated. The detective groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to his brother – but he acknowledged that desperate times sometimes called for desperate measures. He answered. "What?" he asked, not so pleasantly.
"Brother," came the oh so collected voice of one Mycroft Holmes, "I do believe your flatmate has stormed out once again."
Sherlock couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Astute observation. You've taken to spying on us again, hm?"
"After you two got yourselves mixed up with that American organization I've been keeping a constant eye on you two," Mycroft drawled. "And after that telekinetic incident and the good doctor's new…development…I couldn't help but worry." Sherlock was about to speak but his brother interrupted. "I had some words to exchange with Director Fury after he made you agents," he said, almost with disgust, "But Nicholas Fury has never been one to listen."
"Of course you know Fury, why should I expect anything else?" Sherlock sneered.
"Brother of mine, I do believe it's safe to assume that I know everybody." There was a brief silence. "I have some of my best looking for Doctor Watson as we speak. Although I must admit, he's gotten quite good at avoiding my cameras."
Sherlock couldn't help but offer a proud smirk. "He learned from the best."
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When John slowly came back to consciousness, he immediately knew he was not at home. As he tried to sit up he found himself stopped by something biting into his wrists. John looked down and saw that his wrists and ankles were cuffed down. He pulled again but was unable to break out of his bonds. Becoming a little frantic, John tugged harder and harder. Eventually, he gave up and looked around.
He was in a large, dark room. The only light offered was from the glowing of a few nearby computer screens. There was a speaker and security camera in the corner of the room across from him. John examined his restraints closer this time and realized they were not normal cuffs. They looked just like the ones SHIELD had used on the telekinetics. And that chronokinetic, what felt like all those years ago.
He wasn't lying down, per se. More like reclined pretty far back. Footsteps coming from above drew John's attention away from his strength negating restraints. He heard shouting from upstairs and managed to catch a few words. "I thought I told you to clear both stations and the train!" came a woman's voice.
A man responded. "Yes, ma'am, we tried—"
"Well tried isn't good enough, agent. First we go kidnapping Watson then we have casualties? Do you want us to get found out?" There was no response from the man and stomps could be heard from above.
An unseen door opened and light spilled into the room. A switch was flipped and lights turned on, blinding John for a moment. The footsteps descended some stairs and soon John saw the woman from the station standing on the other side of the room. She smiled and walked over to the edge of John's chair. "Agent Watson," she said politely. John tugged at the cuffs in one final futile attempt. The woman shook her head. "Sorry, doctor, but you aren't getting out of those for a while." She began to circle around John. "When SHIELD began to raid our bases we barely got out ourselves, let alone managing to take anything with us. Imagine my surprise when I find another agent has managed to get out a few of these." She tapped the cuff on one of John's wrists. She shook her head. "Simple mercies."
She stopped, once again at the edge of John's chair. "I apologize; I don't believe we've had a proper introduction. I'm Agent Walton." John recognized the name and Walton could see it. "You know who I am?"
"Walton…" John began slowly. Then it clicked. "You're the one who tried to recruit Thomas Snyder and Juliet Michelson. You killed Juliet Michelson. She was just a kid!"
Agent Walton scoffed, legitimately offended. "Killed her? I've never killed a single person. She killed herself, agent, and that's the truth. We had advised her to use her abilities, and yet…" Walton shrugged casually. "It was hardly our fault."
Agent Walton made her way over to one of the desks, shuffling through some papers. "Where am I?" John asked.
"Good question, one I can't answer I'm afraid." She looked over her shoulder. "Not yet, anyway." She picked up the file she was looking for and held it up with a triumphant smile. "When Hydra's infiltration of SHIELD was discovered a couple of years back, their files were scattered. Some were released to the public along with SHIELD's, some were never found, some were destroyed, and some…" She flipped fondly through the papers. "…Some were hidden." She looked back up at John with a raised eyebrow. "You know of the, uh, Superhero Civil War, as the public has taken to calling it, yes?" John didn't answer. Walton continued. "Do you know what the catalyst for it was? Oh, there are multiple reasons, yes, but one of the main reasons was because Captain Rogers wanted to protect his dear friend Sergeant James Barnes. Perhaps you've heard of him by a different name – does the Winter Soldier ring any bells?"
"I know who James Barnes is," John said in a dangerous tone.
"Of course. Well, Captain America was so bent on protecting this assassin, that he put the Winter Soldier in front of the Avengers. And the man responsible for causing all of this? He had a book. One of Hydra's hidden files, never found by SHIELD or the American government. That book contained every code, every word, every utterance that could control the Winter Soldier. SIP was sad to see that it had fallen into SHIELD's hands after the whole ordeal. Who knows what's happened to it now." Walton looked up from the file and tapped it. "But this? I wouldn't call it a copy of that book, no, it isn't that. More of a…guide, if you will. A 'how to' for creating their super assassins. Copies of the notes made by Armin Zola himself – the original Hydra agent to find Sergeant Barnes." She grinned, thumbing through the file again. "Imagine what someone could do with this."
John didn't like where this was going.
Agent Walton let out a sad sigh. "However, when it came into SIP's possession it was incomplete. There are several holes and we've been unable to find all of Zola's notes. There wasn't enough on sustainability. And who knows how it'll interact with someone who hasn't been exposed to the Super Soldier Serum."
Now John really didn't like where this was going.
Walton held up a finger. "But, we have had several agents work on it over the past few years. We've come up with our…own tactic, if you will." She sauntered over to the desk again, setting down the file and opening it up. "However, we haven't really had the opportunity to test it." She looked back at John briefly. "Until now." She walked over to one of the counters. John couldn't quite see everything on it, but he didn't like the look of all the medical instruments. Walton began hooking a few things up. "I assure you, killing you is the last thing we want." She smiled. "So I wouldn't worry about that."
The woman wheeled over an IV and tray. John began pulling at his restraints once again as Walton prepped a needle. "Just a pinch." She slid the line into the crook of John's elbow with fair ease. John kept pulling, trying to stop the inevitable.
Agent Walton fiddled with the IV then turned some knobs and flipped some switches. "The process in and of itself is fairly simple. It's just time consuming." She looked over at the SHIELD agent bound in front of her. "The more you fight, the longer it takes. The longer it takes, the more painful and dangerous it becomes." She offered a sickening smile. "So I suggest you don't fight." Walton looked up at the speaker and security camera in the corner of the room. "We'll be monitoring closely."
John was left alone and for several moments, nothing happened. Then there was the buzz of the speaker turning on. "Война." John screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out the noise. "Рассвет." He grit his teeth. "Восточный. Оставил. Поле битвы." John heard screaming. "Здоровье." He then realized the screaming was coming from him. "Январь. Коллега. Жилье." John thrashed against his restraints in vain. "Корона." There was a pause and all that could be heard was the doctor's panting. The silence didn't last long. "Война. Рассвет. Восточный." The whole painful process started over again.
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