Author's note- Thank you for all the continued support guys! Please leave a little review if you liked it as it gives me the motivation to keep on writing. And we have 2860 views already on this story! I can't believe it!
This will be the last chapter I can write before I go to Cornwall (because I don't plan my stories, I make it up as I go along which I probably shouldn't do!)
Disclaimer- *Finishes biscuits and puts down mug of coffee on the table. Clears throat and puts on sunglasses and with a smirk says* I own Sherlock and all of its characters. *Moffat walks in with his crown of fan girl skulls and glares at me* fine *takes off sunglasses and gives them to Moffat. Sighs* as much as I would like to own Sherlock and keep him forever... I don't. Nothing is mine. *Goes back to pretending Sherlock lives with me in my fantasy world.*
Chapter 12
By the time Sherlock had easily hailed a cab, John had already spoken to Mycroft- who would be promptly awaiting their arrival back at 221B Baker Street.
"You never go to your brother for help." John stated on the ride home.
"Yes, well he can come in handy on occasion." Sherlock muttered, shrugging indifferently as though it wasn't a big thing. "And he'll do whatever I request... within reason."
"Why would he?" John Watson frowned, confused at the new information on the Holmes' brothers' relationship.
"Because we are family, he does care believe it or not. I'm the only family he's got; mummy always wanted him to look after me like a big brother should." Sherlock smirked, "Besides, he seems quite taken with Lucy and he likes you John. Should either of you be in danger he'll be sure to help."
"Well that's news to me," John shifted so he wasn't squashing Lucy quite so much in the slightly cramped back of the taxi.
"Of course we are bitter rivals," Sherlock suddenly decided that it was important to reiterate that point.
"What?" Lucy exclaimed in confusion, "You just made it sound like you are the best of friends and now you say he's your rival?"
"Make your mind up Sherlock," John grinned.
A sleek black car was parked not too far from the front door of 221B; alerting them to the fact that Mycroft was, indeed, already in their flat.
"Mycroft's here," John said.
"Stating the obvious," Sherlock muttered, earning himself a sigh and a glare. After they unlocked the door, the three scaled the stairs up to their flat where the older Holmes' brother was sat drinking tea with Mrs Hudson. Of course Sherlock decided to make a comment:
"I do hope you haven't given him too many cakes Mrs Hudson, once he starts he can't quite stop as you can see from his appearance." Mycroft shot his brother a withering look, but ignored him.
"John, Lucy, lovely to see you again." He greeted in his formal way.
"Hello Mycroft," Lucy smiled at him. John greeted him in the same way. "Hi Mrs Hudson." She bent down to give their landlady a welcome hug.
"Oh Lucy dear, how is everything? Settled in?" She asked.
"Yes I have thank you."
"Are you surviving living with those two? I don't know how you do it, all the experiments in the kitchen. I keep telling them I'm not their housekeeper, but I always end up cleaning up anyway." She looked over fondly at her other two favourite tenants.
"It's certainly never dull round here," Lucy grinned and joked: "And they're not too bad. It's bearable."
"Mrs Hudson," Sherlock spoke, "As lovely as it is to see you, could we have some privacy?"
"Oh yes, of course," The landlady took her cue to leave, as everyone said goodbye.
"I suppose you haven't called on me for a brotherly visit?" Mycroft guessed, running his fingers absentmindedly around the edge of his tea cup.
"You know where we've just come from," Sherlock muttered as he flung himself into a seat, "John make me some tea."
"Please," John prompted.
"Yes, that, thank you." Sherlock ignored the prompt, but he said 'thank you' so John complied.
"Do you want one Lucy?" John asked.
"Yes, two sugars please," she requested.
"At least she has manners," The doctor mumbled under his breath- but audible enough for them to hear. Sherlock just shifted to glance at his friend fleetingly before going back to looking at his brother.
"In answer, yes, you've just come from Lucy's old home." Mycroft said.
"How do you know where we've just been?" Lucy queried, looking surprised and confused at how he knew what they were doing.
"I have my people following you lot." Mycroft casually said as though it was perfectly normal to do this sort of thing, "I have to make sure my little brother doesn't get himself and you into too much trouble." Lucy just nodded, thinking to herself that she should be used to the Holmes' strange ways by now.
Once John had brought Sherlock and Lucy their tea, he too sat down and listened as Sherlock proceeded to briefly inform Mycroft and catch him up to what was happening with the murders. He showed him the note that was left for them in the Harry Potter film case. The consulting detective also gave Mycroft his theory on the fact that the killer could be the same person that killed Lucy's parents, and that if the warehouse was the same one in which her parents were found- then there was a possibility that the teenager was in danger considering the fact that a murderer was playing a rather sadistic game with her.
"This could get very dangerous, very quickly Sherlock." Mycroft raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, I know. Which is why I'm asking that you keep a few of your people near us at all times tonight."
"I can do that. What else is it you need?"
"Surveillance. We need as much surveillance as possible around the area. I wouldn't usually do this, but it's getting personal with Lucy." Sherlock told him, glancing at the teenager once.
"Very well. I don't know how many cameras will be stationed there at the moment. But if you like I can get some of my people down there right now to set up some in and around the warehouses." Mycroft suggested.
"Yes, that would be great." Sherlock agreed. "That's all we'll need."
"I'll give them a call in a moment. But Sherlock, for goodness sake, be careful. If you need anything, if you get either yourself or John or Lucy into trouble go to one of the cars and call me. I'll have three cars near you at all times, one for each of you should you get split up." This had to have been the most caring thing John had ever heard Mycroft say.
"Thank you," Sherlock thanked his brother with kindness that surprised his brother, John and Lucy.
"Well I best be off," Mycroft announced, setting his cup of finished tea on the table as he stood up, "I have some people to call and a country to run. Be careful tonight. Goodbye Sherlock, John, Lucy." He smiled at them in his usual way before taking his leave.
"Bye Mycroft," John and Lucy said, whereas Sherlock just nodded at him.
"John, where's your gun?" Sherlock asked.
"In my room," he replied.
"You have a gun?" Lucy frowned.
"Have to be able to protect myself when around this thing here," John teased as he poked Sherlock, who glared at him in protest.
"Each of us should take a gun tonight," Sherlock thought aloud as he paced around the room, "Like Mycroft said, we need to be careful."
"You can't give Lucy a gun!" John exclaimed.
"She has no other way to protect herself from a killer." Sherlock shot back. "I have a couple in my room that I pinched from the police at Scotland Yard."
"And what if I get kidnapped anyways? What if they sneak up behind me?" Lucy sighed.
"Then you only have to hope that one of us is with you and that it doesn't happen." Sherlock said.
It was about five in the evening when Sherlock started getting ready, he was slightly on edge, like he was just waiting for something to happen. He'd already shown Lucy how to use a gun, much to John's annoyance. But because Lucy didn't want to kill anyone, the ex army doctor advised her how to shoot the legs and feet so that they would be unable to chase after her. Every now and then, Sherlock either glanced at his phone or checked his watch, anxiously counting down the minutes until they would leave at nine o'clock. John and Lucy had gone out to grab something to eat with Mrs Hudson downstairs. Sherlock, of course, refused to eat anything; he was on a case and he couldn't let something as trivial as digestion slow him down.
Not long after his friends went downstairs, did Sherlock's phone beep with a text message. He frowned at it as it interrupted the peaceful quiet of the flat. With caution, he picked up his phone and opened the message:
I like this little game of ours, and Lucy is such a good player. Unless she breaks down. Warehouse thirteen... it's an unlucky number after all.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the text. Another beep broke through the silence, this time it was a picture message. With a frustrated huff, Sherlock downloaded the image before looking at it.
The picture was based in what Sherlock assumed was the abandoned warehouse, it didn't look like much. It was deserted and left void of pretty much anything, not that you could see much due to the fact that it was pitch black. But Sherlock noted, with growing anticipation, that in the middle of the room it looked like two bodies had been placed there. If they were bodies, then it would be safe to presume that this was the warehouse in which Lucy's parents were found. With a spring in his step he raced downstairs to find John and Lucy, when another text came through. Sherlock looked at the phone in confusion; he never received that many texts or clues from the killer. The message read:
Leave now. I can't wait.
Sherlock stopped in his steps in shock, before swiftly barging into Mrs Hudson's flat. John, Lucy and his landlady turned to look at him in surprise.
"John, Lucy, we're leaving now," he announced, "I just got a couple of texts." He went to go out the room back up to the flat, but realised that they were still sat there in confusion and shock. "There's no time to explain. We need to leave now!"
As they hurriedly got ready for the hours that lay ahead of them, Sherlock had to wonder whether they would all come back in one piece. With a glance at Lucy, he knew that the killer was out to break her, and that nothing would stop him from hurting her until she could no longer cope. Maybe that was his plan. A cut to the neck and wrists. Maybe that was a taunt at her self harm. Either way, he had to protect Lucy. She was far too vulnerable; and John knew this too. If things went badly wrong, it may be Lucy who would be lying on the morgue table with a cut to her neck and wrists. But no. Just no. He was the great consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes. And he would be damned if he let some stupid killer get the better of him.
Author's note- So I leave you on a teensy cliff hanger that will hopefully leave you wanting more. But as I said, I'm off on holiday and I can't take this laptop (as it's my mum's...) So leave a review if you like it, and if I get enough, I'll do my best to get another chapter up as quickly as possible ;)