JOHN'S POV
It had been a week. A week since Abrielle had gone missing! A whole week without knowing if my sister, my baby sister was okay. She could be dead for all we knew! She was the one of the only things I had left in this world and now she was gone. She was safe in Ireland for years, and suddenly when she comes back into my life she gets kidnapped. It was all Sherlock's fault too. He was the one that had gotten close to her, the one that had gotten her to go on cases with us, the one that had gotten her attracted to danger, and most importantly he was the one that had let her walk off to explore a place she'd never been in before. But I knew I couldn't blame him, if anything it was my fault for letting her join us. It was my fault for allowing her to walk off in the middle of a case all alone in the middle of Chinatown. There was no one on this earth that was more to blame than me, and that was why I would do anything and everything to get her back including going to Mycroft Holmes for help. I didn't have a clue where she could have gone. I wasn't some sociopathic genius like certain people, and I didn't know who else to ask, so Mycroft it was. He was the government according to Sherlock. Not to mention, he was a genius which would very much aid me in my search for my sister. So of course, here I was sitting his office waiting to ask Mycroft, the cold hearted older brother of Sherlock, for help.
"Why hello John, how are you today?" Mycroft asked, walking calmly into the room, not even glancing up from his reports.
"My sister's gone missing, I wouldn't call it the best of days." I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes at the man's attempt at conversation. To be honest it was quite nice of him to try to be kind to me, in fact it rather surprised me. However, I was in no mood to have a decent conversation. Just the mere thought of some bastard torturing Abrielle really put a damper on my mood, not to mention I was anxious to get her back which made everything feel twenty times worse. I needed help, I needed Abrielle safe. Safe from kidnappers, safe from harm, safe from the world, and the only way to do that is to get help, help from Mycroft.
"Yes, I'm aware she's missing. In fact, I have several of my best people searching for her location as we speak." He stated, my brows furrowing in confusion. He was looking for Abrielle? I mean clearly he somehow got ahold of the information being the government and all, but why would he be trying to find her already?
"Wait, what? Why would you ever help us?" I questioned him. It made no sense at all. The whole reason I was here was because I was going to ask him to help us to look for her. So why was he looking already? He clearly wasn't smart enough to read my mind … well, not from a distance at least. So why was he looking for her before I had even asked him to? He hadn't met her yet, and he didn't know who she was, so why?
"If you haven't noticed my brother very much admires that sister of yours, and the quicker I get her safely back home the quicker he'll stop worrying." He stated, placing his files on his desk and sitting in his seat, giving me his undivided attention. Wait a minute … Sherlock? Worried?
"But he isn't worried, he's looking for her too." I replied, stating cold hard fact. He was anything but worried, he was same old same old Sherlock. Yes, he did spend several hours in his mind palace and playing his violin while he tried to figure out where my sister had been taken, but that wasn't out of the ordinary for Sherlock, in fact it was quite common. He was treating this like any of his regular cases. And besides, Sherlock didn't get worried, he was Sherlock!
"Trust me John, he's worried. It may not look like it now, but give it a few days and you'll understand what I mean. Sherlock is different than you John, he shows his worry very differently than anyone I've seen before." He stated, causing my brain to whirl. Different? Sherlock was certainly different, but he was definitely not worried, not one bit. I was worried, sherlock was … well … Sherlock.
"If you find anything, please tell me." I replied, trying to push aside all of my confusion as I got up off of the chair. Sherlock was not worried, and Abrielle was being searched for by the smartest people in the world. Everything would be fine. Nothing could go wrong. Abrielle would be found and safe in my arms soon enough, all I had to do now was wait and leave it to Sherlock and Mycroft. I started out the door, Mycroft's barely audible voice causing my footsteps to falter slightly.
"Oh Abrielle, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" I heard him mumble, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. This time? What the bloody hell did he mean? It's not like Mycroft knew Bree. So why would Mycroft use that phrasing? All of this was so confusing. Why did Mycroft have people searching for Abrielle before I had even asked him … he's never been worried about either me or Sherlock, so why the sudden concern for Bree? And why was he upset? He seemed off, as if he were sad that she were gone. It just made no sense. I walked down the street my thoughts clouded over as I entered the flat I called my own. My hands grasped the railing as I walked up the stairs, my feet pounding up the steps as my heart beat wildly in my chest my thoughts not once leaving my conversation with Mycroft. It was odd, he talked as if he had known her. Almost like this had happened before. Yet, it couldn't have could it? Bree and Mycroft had never even met. Or have they? No … Bree would have told me if she had met him, I was being silly. A silly idiot.
"Ah, there you are, where have you been?" I heard Sherlock question causing me to snap out of his thoughts. I looked around, my eyes wandering to the mirror where pictures of chinatown and Abrielle were hanging. I walked closer, my eyes mesmerized by my sister as I took it carefully off the mirror. My little sister. Abrielle Watson. Bree. Ellie. The little girl that had stolen my heart. From the moment she was born I had the overwhelming urge to protect her. To keep her safe from the world and the horrors within it. She was my baby sister, my damsal in distress and I was her older brother, her knight in shining armor, the one that came to her rescue no matter what happened. I taught her everything. When she was three months. I taught her to walk when she was six. I taught her to read when she was a year old, and three years later I taught her how to ride a bike. When she was thirteen I started to teach her self defense, and at the age of fourteen I had taught her perhaps the most important lesson, heartbreak. I was there for everything, her first word, her first crush, her first broken arm. Everything, and every time I was there to pick up the pieces of her emotions. Every time except now. I put down the picture denying myself these thoughts and I looked over to Sherlock, his impatience brimming in his eyes telling me that if I didn't answer soon he would surely explode from the waiting.
"I went to see Mycroft, did you know that he has several people searching for my sister?" I questioned, trying to wrap my head around the strange conversation.
"I had a feeling that he might be. He knows that she is important to us, so the quicker he helps us, the quicker things will go back to normal." He replied, my head pounding against my skull. There was no way that was why Mycroft had been searching for her already?! That just made no sense! He never helped us, not once, not ever! So why would he up and help us now? Sure, he somewhat cared about Sherlock like every sibling did. But why search for Abrielle? Was it really as simple as the fact that he simply wanted to help? Really? Because I really did not think so. Something else was at work here … something different.
"So have you gotten any closer to finding her yet?" I questioned, trying to get my mind away from Mycroft and the confusing mystery that was his help. Besides, maybe Sherlock had found something. A clue, a lead, maybe even Abrielle herself!
"No, it's like she's never even existed, John." He sighed, slumping down in his chair, causing my hope to diminish, a sudden thought appearing in my head.
"Sherlock, what if can't ever find her?" I questioned, slumping ungracefully into my own chair as my sadness swirled around within my head. She could be dead. She could be dead and we might not even find anything but a corpse. She could be hurt and tortured anywhere in this big hateful world, anywhere, and we may never find her.
"I'll find her, John. I promise I won't give up until I do." I heard sherlock reply, my unhappy thoughts instantly melting away as positive thoughts began to fill my mind. She would be fine, of course she'd be fine. Sherlock Holmes and Mycroft Holmes two of the smartest people in the world were looking for her! She'd be safe and fine in my arms in no time! Sherlock was an amazing detective and an amazing friend that would stop at nothing to find Abrielle. I knew with everything I had that Sherlock Holmes would find her and beat the hell out of whoever decided to kidnap Abrielle Watson. He was relentless, he was intelligent, and he was my best friend. Sherlock Holmes would find my sister and that was sure of!
