JOHN'S POV
"I'm glad you're alright Abrielle. Sherlock and I have been worried sick for months." I replied, taking her in now that the gang people had left. She looked absolutely horrible. Her body was painted an array of different reds and blues and sickly yellows, and there was damage done all over her body. Simply by looking at her I could easily tell that at least two of her ribs were bruised, if not broken and she must have major blood loss from the amount of dried blood surrounding her seat and body. Not to mention, the lack of proper treatment meant at least a handful of her injuries were infected. It just broke him. His poor little sister had been so badly tortured, so badly hurt. So much so that it was a miracle she was still alive. After so long, finally, finally he had found Abrielle. She wasn't safe, but she was alive, and that was all he could ever ask for.
"Sherlock? Worried? Those are two words I thought I'd never hear in the same sentence. Are you sure?" Abrielle questioned, snapping me out of my patient analysis. She looked confused, almost like the thought of Sherlock being worried was impossible. To be fair, I thought it was impossible too at one point. But surely enough, he had been worried. It was bad. So bad, the denial that was present in his brain trying to make him forget what had happened to Abrielle. Sherlock not worried? He had been worse off then even I had, and I was the one related to Bree!
"Yeah, he's been depressed since you've been kidnapped." I explained, my mind taking me to our recent search for Abrielle. It was evident he was still worried, he couldn't spend a moment not working on trying to find Bree, he wouldn't even sleep, it was just constant searching for clues and their connections. I didn't blame him though, I couldn't sleep either. We were both depressed, both worried that we'd find something bad when we found her. The only consolation we had was when Soo Lin had told us she would be fine. We didn't believe her, but deep in our minds we held onto the hope that somewhere out there Bree was alright. Even if Sherlock did claim that Bree's body would probably only be able to survive a month at the most of torture and or starvation.
"Are you sure that we're talking about the same person here?" Abrielle questioned, still stuck on the fact that Sherlock had been worried. Why was she still confused? Was it really so hard to understand that the guy had emotions? Okay yeah … I understood why she was struggling with the idea. It WAS impossible to wrap your head around. Sherlock did only seem to care about himself most of the time. So, it was easy to see why she had thought it was someone else, because frankly it did sound like someone else.
"I doubt Sherlock was upset John. No one other than you cares that I was even missing. Beside's Sherlock doesn't grieve, he doesn't have emotions." Abrielle stated, a look of denial on her face. Abrielle thought she knew Sherlock. She thought she knew what he was like, but she didn't. He had cried for Abrielle, actual tears had come out of his eyes when he even mentioned her at one point. And at night, when he had locked himself in his room thinking no one could hear him, he called Mycroft to see if there were any sightings of Abrielle. He cared, he cared very much and he had been more than upset, he had been devastated. Abrielle didn't know that, she wasn't there. But he was sad, and he did miss her.
"He does have emotions, Bree. He cares for you so much and he worried about you so much. He thought you were dead."
"Can someone please tell me what's going on. I'm confused." Sarah spoke up, stopping Abrielle from replying. Good thing too, because from the look on Bree's face, she still didn't believe me. She thought Sherlock was just some selfish rude bastard … well, most people thought that anyways. He still was … he was just, well … a different sort of bastard. He had feelings, but maybe just maybe he didn't like showing them, it made sense, after all, his brother did constantly tell him that emotions were bad, and well … being the younger child, that probably meant that Sherlock had been influenced by that. Maybe Sherlock was a normal human being, but he buried it deep underneath his skin.
"Hi, you must be John's date, I'm his sister Abrielle. You can call me Bree if you want." I heard Abriele tell Sarah, a smile on her face, despite the pain it must of caused her to even move her facial features. She was doing it again. Playing strong. She used to do it all the time when we were little, trying to be strong and brave when she got hurt and pretending like she didn't matter. She was trying to shift the focus, to put the focus on somebody else, and, although he didn't want to admit it … it was working.
"I'm Sarah. Can you please explain what's going on." Sarah replied, smiling back at Bree. It was more than obvious that Sarah was trying to be distracted, she hated the situation they were in and she wanted to forget it, and well, since Bree wanted to be forgotten, it was simple to divert attention and move the conversation into a lighter one. The moment for deeper conversations was gone, and knowing Abrielle never to be seen again. Now it was time to find out just how much Abrielle knew about what was going on. And that, I was most certainly ready to hear.
"Oh, so those people are part of a criminal gang called the Black Lotus and the woman that was in here previously was the gang leader. I'm here because I'm going to kill her, though I am kinda tied up at the moment so I'll probably do that later. And you're here because the idiot gang leader mistook my brother for someone else. So sorry to ruin your date." Abrielle replied, causing me to stop and stare at her. She was going to kill someone?! Like really, actually murder someone?! My sister, the sweet, helpless child that was a simple writer was going to murder somebody?! That made no sense! Had Sherlock been right all along, about her hiding her real job. Did my sister become a psychopathic killer in the years we had been apart? Was she insane? Oh my god, she was a killer. Okay, no … I wouldn't allow that. Maybe … maybe she was sleep deprived and just saying things. Yeah, that's probably it, she's just tired, she isn't thinking straight. Just saying whatever her mind can come up with at the moment in time. She isn't a killer. It's fine. Everything was okay, she was okay … well, kinda. And I was okay. Everything was fine.
"No worries, I was looking forward to going somewhere simple like the movies but you know, tied up to a chair in a dark tunnel is fun too." Sarah replied, snapping my mind out of my panicked worry.
"I like you, you're fun. John should hang out with you more often." Bree stated, laughing at the woman's joke, despite probably being in immense pain whilst doing so. She must have really liked Sarah, if she was willing to actually admit it out loud, years back, whenever I had brought a girl home it was usually instant disapproval, and a long rant of deductions she had picked up that lead her to figure out that the girl was not a good match. Sarah hadn't gotten that, so either she liked her, or she was too polite to say anything rude at the moment. Either way, it was quite a miracle.
"I'm glad you approve of my date, now can you please tell me if you have any plans on getting us out of here before we all die." I questioned, trying to change the subject quickly. It was the only way to turn the conversation around, to try and figure out how to save their lives before they were killed on the spot. It was not time for talking, it was time for planning, serious planning. Because otherwise, we would all die, no second chances.
"You won't die, trust me." Bree stated, causing me to stare at her incredulously. Was she serious? We weren't going to die? We weren't going to die? She knew we were tied up, as in literally not able to get out, right?
"If you haven't noticed we're kind of incapable of defending ourselves if someone tries to shoot us." I explained, worry clear in my voice. I swear, this better just be the sleep talking, because I was not going to die because Bree was too tired to properly plan. I did not get kidnapped and led straight to my sister after searching for her for months to simply end up dying next to her, no way! We all had to survive, we all would survive, I just had to figure out how.
"Oh don't worry that pretty little head of yours. We'll be fine, don't worry." Abrielle replied, causing me to worry. She had a plan, he knew she had a plan, but how did she have a plan if they were all bound to chairs? There was no way to save everyone. No way to get out of this alive, so how was Abrielle going to do it? It was impossible … but then again so was she. So really, if anyone was going to do it, it would be Abrielle Watson. My impossible, crazy little sister.
