A/N Hello! thanks for sticking around for chapter two! Sorry, it's a bit long. I'll try to keep it to a minimum next time. Please give me good criticism. It'll help me improve and I'll appreciate it. tell me what you did and didn't like about the chapter. I love hearing from you all! :)

Stepping into the well-lit building, I found myself searching for a familiar face amongst the crowd of law enforcers. Scanning the room— no Sally, no Anderson, and no Lestrade. Where is everyone? The sound of clicking keyboards and ringing telephones echoed throughout the building. Conservations ensued, and every few seconds someone would get up and stride across us.

It all felt out of place without Lestrade– like foreign territory, and it made me uneasy. I looked down to see Cable's gaze shifted towards me anxiously, as we stood in front of the door.

"I must warn you. Ford can be kind of coldhearted – don't let that bother you though." He said.

"Trust me, I've dealt with worse," I said. Shaking away the thought of Moriarty that crept in. In my excitement, I swung the door with greater force than I would have preferred. The man, appearing to be no older than in his late forties paused. He was busing himself with paperwork.He looked annoyed, but his cold and distant gaze made it difficult to tell.

"Sir, please forgive my intrusion, I should have knocked," I said.

"Don't bother." he said, putting everything aside."Is there something I can help you with?" He asked, looking towards Cable.

"Sir, this is Sherlock Holmes, and I'd like his help on the case.."

"I am more than aware of who Sherlock Holmes is, but I have no saying in this. I've handed the case to Lestrade. Consult him on the matter." He said returning to his work.

"But sir–"

"Quit boy. Your business is with Lestrade," he scorned.

Cable's jaw tightened at the rebuke, but he compiled. I observed the man, thinking of a way to turn things in my favor– but I found myself eager to confront Lestrade. I turned to take my leave only to see, Cable wasn't moving.

"Sir, I'd like to call in a favor." Cable announced.

"You're running out of favors."

"I'm calling them all in."

Ford looked up at the young lad, he didn't dismiss him. He sat quietly, inspecting him. After Letting out a long sigh, he set his work aside.

"Does this mean that much to you?"

Opening a drawer, he began rummaging through the papers. Throwing a small file in my direction. Reaching for it, I inspected its outer exterior; A photo of a woman sticking out of the corner. I couldn't help but squint at the photo, the women's round face looking, oddly familiar.

"No matter what inspector Lestrade says from this point on, you have official access to this case. You have my word, Sherlock Holmes." He said, interrupting my train of thought.

"Thank you, sir." Cable said, with a warm smile of gratitude.

Shaking my mind away from the mysterious women, I pushed the question."Where can I find inspector Lestrade?"

Suddenly, the man of the hour walked in, looking like a deer in headlights.

"I knew you wouldn't quit, but– I didn't think you'd go this far. Don't tell me, Lestrade said rubbing his burrow. He's got access now, hasn't he?"

Ford shook his head. Lestrade reluctantly looked over at Cable, then at me. For a moment, I spotted something in his eyes, was it fear?

"Lestrade!" I called out. Thinking back to my last case with him, going through every scenario in my head. Did I say something wrong? Was it something I did? I'm trying, I am. If only John was here, he could tell me what I did wrong...

"Greg!" I called out. He stopped to my relief, his back still facing me. I could see him pulling something out, pressing it to his lips. The click of a lighter and the intoxicating all too familiar scent filled the air. He's smoking?

"I thought you quit?"

"So did I." He said, breathing out a could of smoke.

"Is John with you?"

"No."

"Good." He said, putting out his cigarette with the crunch of his foot. "There's something I want to show you."

That's strange? Sherlock hasn't responded to any of my texts? As of lately, he's become quick in his response. At times, I even get messages from him out of the blue. The sun's starting to descend, painting the horizon with an orange and pink palette. Slowly everyone was starting to head home, except for some children laughing and shouting in the distance.

"Daddy! you're not watching me," Rosie called out from the slide.

"I'm watching dear, go ahead," I said, pocketing my phone. pleased, she slides down letting out a giggle. I smiled, trying to put aside my worries. He's fine, knowing him he's probably mesmerized on a case. Sherlock is okay. I turned my head in the direction of a group of rowdy boys in the corner.

Intrigued by the youngsters, I listened in. Hoping to put my mind at ease.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, and this is my partner John Watson."

"No, I want to be the detective!"

"No! you're John.".

"Why?"

"Because I said so!" The boy yelled, shoving him. Realizing what happened, the boy let out a gut retching shrike that made me cringe.

I shook my head at the thought of Sherlock. No, take your mind off him– Off! I scolded myself. Suddenly I felt a tug on my trousers.

"Daddy, I'm hungry." Rosie wined.

"Oh– let's go grab a bite to eat then," I said, taking her hand, my eyes still lingering on the boys.

We made it inside a nearby restaurant, not too crowded. Rosie was practically jumping in her seat at the sight of the dessert menu. Looking over to the seat beside Rosie, my thoughts lingered on Sherlock. Wondering, what case he got stuck with? I was restless, knowing the excitement was elsewhere.

My phone suddenly sounded, I got a text.

"Daddy, I want some dessert."

"Maybe later," I said, pulling out my phone. The text message was from Sherlock, thrilled I pulled it up. Hoping he was sharing his exciting case with me. Once I saw the message, my smile faded.

Vatican cameos

"Sir, are you ready to order." A young woman standing over us asked.

"Oh, no– sorry. We need to go. Rosie let's go," I said, shooting the young woman an apologetic smile.

"But I'm hungry."

"Rosie," I said sternly.

She hesitantly got up and took my hand as we walked out. My eyes darting in every direction, at every person that passed by. Someone's going to die, Sherlock's in danger— we're in danger.

"Were just going to grab a cab Rosie," I said. We need to go home, I need to get Rosie to safety. I need to find Sherlock.

"Daddy, what wrong?"

I raised my hand, calling a cab. Anxiously, I pulled Rosie closer to me until a cab arrived. Rosie and I got in as the driver asked, "where to?"

"Uh, 221B Baker Street," I announced, closing the small window for privacy.

"Are we visiting uncle Sherlock?" She inquired, looking worried.

"Yes we're, just stopping by," I said holding the phone to my ear. Come on, come on. Pick up! Come on Sherlock! I tried again after it rang out,Then, I heard him.I knew at that moment something was wrong.

"J-John. He slurred, making a lump form in my throat.

"Sherlock. Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Les-Lestrade..he–"

"Is Lestrade with you? Sherlock?"

"N-No."

"Tell me where you are?" Sherlock– Sherlock please. I begged, I heard a loud thump followed by a weak moan. Making me more anxious.

"Sherlock?"

"Sherlock, are you hurt?"

"SHERLOCK!?"

After a couple of failed attempts at reaching him, I reluctantly hung up and dialed Lestrade. I could hear my heart beating in my ears, its frantic thumps in my chest. Was I having a heart attack? No, pull yourself together!

"Sir, we're here." The driver said.

"I'll be right back," I said frantically leading Rosie onto the doorstep. I banged on the door, looking down at Rosie who now clutched onto my arm.

"Rosie, I need you to stay with your godmother, Mrs. Hudson okay," I said, placing my hands on her shoulders. She shook her head fighting back tears.

"I-Is Sherlock okay?"

"Yes, everything is going to be okay. I'll come back, I promise."

The door opened in a panic with a frightened Mrs. Hudson.

"Mrs. Hudson, I need you to watch Rosie. I'll be back," I said running back into the cab. Leaving a confused Mrs. Hudson and a frightened Rosie behind.

"Drive."

"Where to?"

"Just drive!" I screamed. Finally, we were moving.

With no response from Greg, I began to panic. Sherlock was out there, hurt. He could be– he could be. No! If only Mary was here, she'd know what to do. I shook my head furiously as I Shoved the fear down that threatened to show itself. Only then did I notice my phone was vibrating. Anonymous caller ID?

"He-Hello?"

"SHERLOCK!"

I cried out, running towards him. I began searching for a pulse, when I felt it beating against my fingers, a wave of relief washed over me.

"Sherlock, wake up. Sherlock!" I slapped the detective until his cheeks turned red. Nothing was working, he didn't stir. He's out cold. His chest rising and falling with each breath. I searched for any injuries, Nothing, not a scratch.

I stood there trying to calm my beating heart. He's okay– he's okay? Suddenly my foot hit something causing it to roll across the floor. Looking down my heart skipped a beat. lying next to Sherlock: a used syringe.