Sherlock was bored. Very bored. John had been gone for such a long time, probably taking care of patients and doing surgeries and flirting with Sarah- ugh. When will he learn the women will never again be attracted to him when Sherlock is still around.

He was pacing the flat anxiously with the phone to his ear, finally Lestrade picked up, "Do you have a case? Anything?" The voice on the other end of the phone didn't sound amused and in fact sounded tired and irriated,

"Always getting straight to the point- Sherlock you've called me three times this past hour. No, I don't have a case for you. I've sent you all my cold cases and I can't send you anymore. You know I almost got fired after you pulled that whole "faking your death" act. If I continue to let you consult on cases it has to be at a reasonable rate...You can't just always expect me to let you in on everything." The DI was exasperated.

"Lestrade, I know you are currently working on a case. Five weeks running, not solved yet...Are you sure you don't need my assistance?"

The sigh on the other line could be heard from miles away.

"No Sherlock." The line went dead.

Sherlock looked at the phone and after glaring at it for over ten seconds through it at the wall with a aggravated yell. John should be back by now. How many people could possibly need help from him at the hospital.

No, in fact, how many people could John treat before he got bored. The answer is not many.

Walking over the wall he through his phone at he bent down and picked up the cellular. He had gotten rid of the Blackberry a while ago as well as the IPhone in substitute he got a Nokia...Or more accurately John had gotten him a Nokia. The phone was virtually indestructable which allowed him to throw it at walls, objects, and people. The detective let his fingers fly across the keyboard,

Bored. Come back to the flat at once. SH

SEND


"Oh, it looks like your little boyfriend is texting you." The man laughed to himself and in a mock Sherlock voice said, "Bored. Come back to the flat at once!"

John glared at the man. He came to the conclusion after speaking for a while that the man wouldn't give him any information, instead it seemed like it was a lost cause, the doctor was continuously mocked every time he spoke and there was no reason to continue talking now...it had already been what John thought to be several hours. Not including the amount of time that he was unconscious.

"Please don't look at me like that Dr. Watson. It's cute, he likes you back. You don't need to be ashamed of a crush, is it because he's a man? Maybe." John didn't waver, "What's wrong? Are you afraid he won't notice you?"

John wavered.

"You are, aren't you? Is it because he left for three years?" The army doctor failed to keep a straight face yet again, "It is, isn't it? And he failed too. I told you this was about Moriarty. Not all of Moriarty's organization is dead, in fact my boss brought it back more powerful then ever before." John couldn't take the drolled out cliché suspense anymore,

"Who is your boss! For godssake you keep talking about him. I thought he was Moriarty but you've told me he's not- then again though, you do have me tied up to a chair, so I wouldn't put it pass you to lie to me." John sighed, "You haven't even told me your name, or any name. I'm obviously going to be here for a while...What should I call you?" The man smiled and leaned back on the metal table,

"I guess you should call me something...hm. How about- David? I like the name David. You can call me that." David cheekily smiled.

"Yeah sure, David."

John turned his head away from David and silently berated himself. Really? Did you think he would actually give you his name? At least he tried. Who knows, maybe David is a name related to him somehow. Someway he could figure out who this man is when Sherlock gets him out of here.

Every detail helps, even if the detail is affected by a variable.

John heard a loud buzzing again that reverberated against the metal table.

David picked up the phone and smiled,

"Well Dr. Watson, you don't need to worry about Sherlock not knowing you've been taken. He'll find out soon. "

David turned the phone to John, the bright light showed a new text from Sherlock

Respond in five minutes or I'm coming to the hospital SH


This was getting tedious. Sherlock had just finished texting John and was drumming his fingers against the coffee table. Lining the old sword scratch from when he was attacked, it was almost nostalgic.

Almost.

Recently Sherlock had noticed that almost all his entertainment had come from John. Everything. Not even cases really interested him anymore, because of how interesting John is. After coming back, things had been in a sort of limbo. It wasn't really the same as before...although they had stepped back into a routine- there was still something missing. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, because everything was the same. He was treated the same. He acted the same. It was all so unrealistic.

He glanced at his phone. It had only been one minute. However, when had Sherlock ever followed what he was told. Even if he told himself.

Getting up from his chair he swiped his mobile from the table and headed into the main room. Gathering his coat and scarf, he trotted downstairs and headed out of 221B. Maybe he could discover a case with John. He used to do it when he was younger. He would simply walk around London and look for anything suspicious, there are vague memories of him follow drug-lords, thieves and murderers. All types of criminals are around London and they weren't very hard to find.

He hailed a cab,

"St. Bart's."

"Yeh, sure mate."

He looked out of the window of the cab and nearly sighed to himself. Moriarty was the ultimate match, he was the most difficult thing Sherlock had faced but now everything was rather boring. The spider had been crushed, and his web had been dusted. What was the exterminator to do?

He watched as the other cars passed by, and soon enough they were at St. Bart's. As he got out of the cab he started to walk towards the hospital.

"Hey- mate. Ya need to give me the money."

Sherlock turned and ruffled through his pockets, shoving some ungodly amount of money in the mans face. He swept is coat behind him and turned around finally making it to the doors of the hospital. He bursted inside and went heading to John's sector. He swiftly went around and went to John's office. Not there. Patient rooms. Not there. Check-up rooms. Not there.

He must have gone out, however there was no evidence of him being anywhere.

Perhaps he could find Sarah if she was working, although the women hated him he knew that she wouldn't lie to him either.

Finding her office, he walks inside, she's looking at her computer and typing vigorously. Probably writing up a patients medical history.

"Where's John."

Sarah looks up,

"Straight to point I see. I haven't seen him, haven't signed him in."

Without a word, Sherlock headed out of the office and down the hospital until he made it out of St. Bart's. So John hadn't been there, he could have assumed he simply hadn't signed in, but John isn't that type of person. He wouldn't have lied to Sherlock either about going to the hospital. Perhaps he got taken by his brother? No. He would have responded to Sherlock's text. Or perhaps not- maybe he didn't notice. He quickly pulls out his phone and texts Mycroft,

Where's John. Give him back. SH

SEND

While stands in the middle of the pavement he looks up at a CCTV camera that was now suddenly turned to him and glares. He then gets a text back.

I don't have John, Sherlock. MH

"You liar." He says to the camera.

There's a buzz in his hands.

CCTV does not have audio, Sherlock. I am not lying. Perhaps I can help you find him. MH

Sherlock glares at the CCTV again, puts up his middle finger, shoves it in the air, and leaves

Childish. MH


Mycroft looks as his brother walks away and follows him with the camera. He's obviously off to find John without him. Mycroft however was going to find him anyway.

He hadn't checked up on John's surveillance because he found no need to. After his brother had faked his death John's surveillance had massively gone down, when Sherlock had come back he never bothered to raise it again.

He calls Anthea,

"Hello Anthea, please send me Doctor Watson's surveillance file from the last 24 hours. Thank you." he hangs up without letting her get a word in. He's not as rude as his brother, who wouldn't say thank you, but he'd rather avoid the most words possible. His emails bleeps and he opens it up. He plays it from the afternoon on fast forward. There is little video, because all he has is CCTV, so it didn't take long until he saw John get in a cab heading to St. Bart's. He puts it on normal speed and watches as John gets out and heads to the hospital. Mycroft immediately notices the white van (how original) parked by the side and every other detail led him to not be surprised when he sees a man come out and plunge a needle into John Watson's neck. He sees as John passes out and is dragged into the van.

Mycroft takes a deep sigh. He supposes he'll have to deal with this now.

He calls Anthea again,

"Hello Anthea, please contact Detective Inspector Lestrade and tell him to file a report on the kidnapping of John Watson. I'll send you the video now."

"Yes sir, would you like me to contact your brother for you?"

"No, I believe I'll simply wait until the Detective Inspector contacts him."

"Alright, sir."

"Thank you."


Sherlock was currently yelling at a clerk at a market.

"He comes in here all the time how could you have not seen him! You idiot."

Sherlock had already texted John twice and was now becoming more and more frustrated. As well as worried, though he wouldn't allow himself to acknowledge it.

"Sir I- can you please leave the store. I'm going to call security."

Sherlock growled loudly and was about to speak again when his phone rang. He takes it viciously in his hand -DI LESTRADE- he reads, and then answers it as dramatically and aggressively as you can answer a phone,

"What?"

"Woah Sherlock calm down-"

"I don't have time for this, unless you have a case I will hang up right now."

"Sherlock you need to come to the station John's been kidnapped."

"Oh."

"Yeah, your brother contacted me with someth-"

Sherlock ended the call and immediately headed outside. He had to get the Yard immediately. Obviously they had acquired some video, he wouldn't ask his brother for it, and he couldn't get it himself. Luckily, he saw a cab heading away and called it with urgency.

He was worried.