JOHN'S POV
After a very stressful evening, I was back at Scotland yard. I mean, first I had gotten caught by community support officer. Then I had been accused of "tagging a public building" and thrown, quite roughly might I add, into the back of a police car and given an ASBO at the police station. Me of all people! An ASBO! A former army Doctor with no police record to speak of and now I had a bloody ASBO! And it was all Bree's friend's fault. I can't believe my little sister is friends with that boy. He's a criminal, the lowest of the low, and my sweet little sister was friends with him. It was a disgrace! She could get hurt because of him. She could get a criminal record for associating with him. So much could go wrong because of him. Not to mention I now had a criminal record! Kinda. Okay … not really. But that wasn't the point. After waiting for hours for my bloody ASBO I had gotten back to the flat only for Bree to instantly turn me back around and tell me to head to Scotland Yard. After everything I'd been through she asks me of all people to go. She could have asked Sherlock, but no, even the idea of leaving Sherlock was the worst idea possible. I just didn't get it, they had to be together or they couldn't think. Abrielle even denied a trip to Dublin, to stay with Sherlock. Dublin! The place she's dreamed of living since she was five years old and she didn't want to go because she didn't want to leave Sherlock behind to solve cases himself. Not to mention, if they were both so keen on staying together, they could have just gone to Scotland Yard together while I had been stuck at the police station! But no, I had to do it, so here I was sitting across from DI Dimmock while he looks through a box of stuff for me, when he could have been doing several other things.
"Your friend …" Dimmock started, causing me to look up.
"Listen: Whatever you say, I'm behind you one hundred percent." I told him, stopping him. Sherlock was … a bit much for some people. He wasn't the kindest, and his intelligence could kind of get to you. Not to mention he was very strange to anyone who didn't know him. After such a long time living with the man, and after basically living with the female copy of Sherlock I was immune to it all. But others … well, they weren't as used to the … strangeness of Sherlock Holmes.
"He's an arrogant sod."
"Well, that was mild! People say a lot worse than that." I replied, a smile on my face. I've heard it all. People have called him the worst of names, and I was always the one they complained to. While he ran around solving crimes and deducing people I was the one that took all the complaints and all the emotional baggage that came with it. Because, no matter how much Sherlock thought he was smart he was actually a complete and utter idiot when it came to emotions. He didn't understand that when someone were crying it was because he had deduced something they didn't want other people knowing. And he didn't know how to console others, or help them with what they're going through. All he knew was how to solve cases, and that's why he needed me. I added the intelligence in emotions that he lacked, and it's one of the reasons that I had stuck around for so long. He needed me just as much as I needed him.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it? The journalist's diary?" Dimmock asked, slamming a book on the table and snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah, that's what my sister told me to get." I replied, grabbing the small diary off the table and putting it safely into my coat pocket.
"Ah, so the lady sent you. That makes sense, she's the authority sort."
"Really?" I replied, looking at him as though he were insane. Authority sort? I mean, yeah, she told me what to do and I did it because I was a nice older brother. And she did seem to be able to make Sherlock do what she wanted. And she does seem to make people do things the way she wants them done. But did that really make her the authority sort?
"Yeah, where is she? She told me she wanted me to look into something for her."
"She's busy at the moment. But what did she want you to look into." I asked curiously. What could she have possibly wanted from the police? Did it have to do with this supposed secret that Sherlock thinks she's hiding? But why the police? It didn't make any sense. Why tell the police and not us? Was she safe? Was she being threatened or something? Is that why she wouldn't tell us? She seemed okay. And she didn't really talk to anyone other then me and Sherlock. But why ask the police?
"She wanted me to look into this one gang … The Black Lotus I think it was called." Dimmock replied, causing my curiosity to grow. I could have sworn I've heard Abrielle mumble that name a few times recently. Who were they? Why was she asking about a gang … not to mention, how the hell did she know the name of some specific gang that I've never even heard of?
"Do you know why she asked you?" I asked, trying to figure out what my sister was hiding that seemed to involve some inconspicuous gang.
"It beats me. But tell her that I have the file on it if she wants it." Dimmock replied, my mind barely registering that he had already gotten up to put the box of stuff back in evidence where it had previously been.
"I will." I replied, calling to the man that was now at the other end of the hall as I got up from my seat. I walked slowly out of the building, my mind extremely preoccupied. What was Bree hiding? And what was this black lotus gang that she was asking about … to the police no less. It almost seemed like this made me think of my sister in a whole other light. Who was this stranger that seemed to inhabit my sister's body? Because it was not my sister. My sister would never hide anything from me. Never. And now here she was. She was so different from the innocent little girl that was as honest and pure as an angel. She was keeping secrets from strictly me. And that … that made me scared. What was so bad that she couldn't tell me. Her brother. Her best friend. The person that she shared everything with. And if it wasn't a matter of trust, it was something else entirely … it was fear. So the question now was … what was Abrielle Watson afraid of?
