Elias had mapped the day all out in his head.

After the deal with Shezza, he'd only had two other clients to meet with and then he'd planned to wrap up early for the day. His uncle had promised him he'd be back by then and they were going to go to Cornwall for the weekend. The owner of a bed and breakfast inn owed his uncle several favours, so they pretty much got to stay there whenever they pleased.

He was also aware that his uncle owned a few storage units there, but Elias wasn't privy to what was kept inside. He didn't ask or pry; that wasn't their relationship. His uncle never lied to him but for certain aspects of the business, Elias was kept out of the loop. He understood. He had his fair share of secrets too.

Then Sherlock Holmes had to go and ruin his weekend.

He didn't blame himself for not recognizing him as 'Shezza'. He'd only met him and Mycroft once before and he'd been nine at the time. Still, as he sat with his arms and legs tightly shackled, he cursed himself over and over again for being so careless.

"I know you're there," Elias called out to the seemingly empty room. His strained echo bounced around the frayed four walls.

There were no visible cameras as far as Elias could pinpoint, but that didn't rule out hidden ones. There were always cameras when Mycroft Holmes was involved.

"Comfortable, are we?"

Elias flinched hard as his gaze met with the owner of the honeyed voice – Mycroft Holmes, lingering smugly in the doorway.

He recalled their first meeting all those years ago. It hadn't been a pleasant experience in the slightest. Sherlock sat the whole time in stubborn silence, Mrs Holmes asked awkward questions about his dad and grades, and Mycroft had wrapped up the lunch by asking why his mother felt the need to invite the 'reason for her troubled marriage' to tea.

He'd had a huge argument with his dad beforehand. He couldn't for the life of him understand why his dad was so insistent on him agreeing to accept his 'birth mother's' invitation to tea. Elias had no interest in meeting her or her sons; his dad was more than enough for him. He had proven that time and time again.

In the end, Elias had left, brutally humiliated – his confidence diminished to almost nothing. He'd been furious at his dad for months, no matter how many times he'd attempted to apologize.

And now he'd been deceived and kidnapped by them. It wasn't exactly the family reunion he had in mind but, at the same time, it didn't surprise him.

"Y'know phones exist, right?"

There was no sarcasm in Elias' tone. He was genuinely curious if Mycroft knew he could have just called instead of orchestrating an entire kidnapping.

"I feared that you wouldn't feel inclined to pick up," Mycroft answered curtly.

He settled himself in a much more comfortable looking chair across the room, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap – the picture of English sophistication. Elias resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Clearly don't know me very well then. I'd much rather take a call than all" – he looked pointedly down at his restricted limbs and soaked t-shirt – "this."

Mycroft followed Elias' gaze but didn't offer any signs of regret or sympathy about it.

"I couldn't be certain Felix wasn't listening in. Naturally, I had to find some other means of reaching you." Mycroft explained as if kidnapping was a totally normal alternative.

Elias blinked. "Hang on. What's he got to do with anything?"

Hearing his uncle's name mentioned by Mycroft was a foreign and unsettling experience, and he felt a strong urge to protect what little family he had left from the Holmes brothers.

Elias took a few moments to sift through his thoughts, searching for any possible reason why his uncle had suddenly become of interest to Mycroft. Then he recalled the last conversation he had with the man and something clicked.

"Oh, this has something to do with the recent low stock, doesn't it?"

If Elias' guess was correct, Uncle Felix had maybe gotten in a bit over his head, especially if he was attracting attention from the likes of Holmes.

Elias tried to pick apart Mycroft's controlled expression but came up empty. God, he hated calculated people. To be fair, he didn't deal with many in his line of work, but occasionally he'd come across a more 'high-end' sort of customer – doctors, lawyers, even the odd low-ranking politician. They took pleasure in keeping Elias on his toes. Any deal he made was thoroughly scrutinised, his product second-guessed, and he too often ended up selling to them on the cheap without realising it.

He'd take an impulsive junkie over a calculated one in a heartbeat; he'd much rather be stabbed than have someone mess with his head.

A stubborn silence filled the room. After what felt like an age, Mycroft picked the interrogation back up, his voice a touch sharper than before.

"The last time you had contact with Felix, did he mention anything about the Fowler family?"

Elias found it near impossible to keep the rage that was growing in him under control. His uncle was one of the only people left in his life that genuinely cared about him, and he'd be damned if he was going to let these two anywhere near him. Where Sherlock and Mycroft went, destruction soon followed.

If his uncle Felix had got mixed up with the Fowler family, he didn't want to waste any more time answering Mycroft's meddling questions. He had to persuade Mycroft to let him go.

"I… I really don't know. He's a private man; I- I'm sure you understand why. I only deal with the lower-end clients. He handles everything else."

It was more of a half-truth. He really was kept to the back-alley, low-class kind of deals – his uncle in charge of all the big-name clients that Elias wasn't aware of – but Elias also had a pretty good idea where Felix kept his logging book. If his uncle had been making any dodgy deals with the likes of Fowler, it would be all marked down in the book. His uncle was carelessly old-fashioned.

"Do not lie to me, Elias." Mycroft's tone was low, dangerous. "I have no time for your pitiful attempts at deceit. Perhaps you ought to have some more time to reflect."

Mycroft stood up with the clear intention of leaving the boy to fester, but paused as words began bubbling up Elias' throat like bile.

"Wait! Wait, I- I'll help you get the information you're after. But- Look, you have to let me do it my way or else you'll spook him. I swear, if you get me out of these ropes I'll do whatever it takes to get you and Sherlock out of my life again."

Elias wanted nothing more than to return to his sense of normality, and the only way that was going to happen was if he gave Mycroft Holmes what he wanted. He had no leverage here. This wasn't negotiating a drug deal; this was a kidnapping.

He watched with apprehension as Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his plea. "You'll work with Sherlock on this. I'll have a car take you to Baker Street."

"...Sherlock? I just explained why I need to do this alone."

Elias was dumbfounded. He'd grown up in the business – he knew the street politics of it all; he knew the active areas and the areas to avoid; he knew the local dealers, the junkies and the dirty cops. This wasn't Sherlock's world; this was Elias'.

"You're working with him, Elias, and that's final."

And with those parting words, Mycroft made his exit, the door slamming shut behind him.

Elias sighed into the now empty room. "It's EJ..."