I'm so sorry I let you wait so long! I just knew what I wanted to write but I didn't know how and it was so horrible. I'm really, really sorry :( so here's another chapter I have written. I hope you all will like it and that Sherlock or anybody else is not too much OOC. It took me so long to write this, so if anything doesn't make sense, I'm sorry again :(
Story: (Un)hidden Love
Chapter 8: Doctor in distress
By: Mischel
He knew he had to stay calm, but in all honesty that wasn't what he was able to do in this situation. John was God knows where and he was alone. Once he found John's room empty, he ran into their bathroom, but John wasn't there either.
He went back to John's room and tried to focus at it as if it was just another case. A kidnap. Because that was the best option right now. He took a few deep breaths and looked at the bed.
No blood
Good, so at least he isn't hurt or the blood wasn't able to drop on the bed, meaning it can't be any deep injure or any injure at all.
He placed a hand on the bed.
It's not warm anymore. The bed is cold now, so he has to be gone some time already. Two hours, maybe?
Sherlock quickly went into his mind palace and started to calculate how far would anyone get in two hours from their flat, by a car, cab, subway or just walk. He travelled to any place in his mind that would be perfect to hide someone. Old factories, abandoned houses, farms, anything. Then he paused for a moment.
If they would just grab John, he would probably wake up and scream or something, and that would probably wake me. How come I didn't wake up or hear anything?
Sherlock didn't sleep much and when he was sleeping, anything could easily wake him up again. So he was supposed to wake up when John was taken away. But why did he stay asleep? Maybe John didn't wake up, but why would he not wake up when he was being kidnapped.
Sherlock's eyes wandered around the whole room and then he stopped, looking on John's almost eaten cake on his table. He came closer and took the plate in his hands. Then he smelled it carefully. His eyes widened immediately.
sedatives
He got angry. How come he didn't notice this earlier? He was supposed to know it, to smell it. But he was too distracted by his and John's problems so he just ate the cake too. Not all of it, but the sedatives did their work quite well. That was the reason why he overslept. But the cake was by Mrs Hudson, wasn't it? Probably she bought it somewhere. That's bad. Whoever sold it to her wanted John and him sleeping, oblivious to anything around them.
He quickly ran out of their flat and to Mrs Hudson. She was awake already when he came to her flat. She was smiling, drinking her tea and reading the papers.
"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock yelled and she almost choked in the tea when he ran in front of her. He startled her.
"Sherlock?" she smiled at him. "Are you here to tell me the wedding date?"
"John's gone!" he blurted quickly and went closer to her, looking straight into her eyes. "I need to know where did you buy the cake yesterday, now!"
Mrs Hudson yelped when she realized what was Sherlock saying. John was gone? Gone like... gone? Just gone? Why? When? What? "John is gone?" she asked, her old eyes quickly widening.
"Yes, now answer the question, please Mrs Hudson!" he said, waiting for his answer.
"Erm..." she tried to remember. "I don't know, I asked for a cake and he just suggested that chocolate one. He said it was the best cake for me and that it was special, the best choice in their shop-"
"How did he look like?" Sherlock asked, his hands tightening into fists.
"Erm, he was... erm, tall, young handsome man, short black hair-"
"Moriarty." Sherlock said through gritted teeth. "We must find him." he said and ran out of her flat, muttering quick thanks. He returned to John's room, and started to look for any signs of kidnap. He layed on the ground, smelling all the way from John's bed to the window. He took his little magnifying glass and searched for anything and finally, he found something.
He found slight footprints. It wasn't much, but he could at least deduce something from it. He smelled it. It smelled like...
loam
grass
forest
trees...
spruce tree!
He took his phone and sent a text to his homeless network. In less than a minute he got countless of pictures of forests and nature and most importantly the place where he thought John might be being held as a captive.
He quickly sent a text to Lestrade with the address of a place where he thought John would be.
John's been kidnapped.
SH
xoXOXox
In less than 15 minutes, Sherlock was going through the street with Lestrade in tow. They were going to take a cab, because they didn't want Moriarty to notice them. If they wanted to rescue John, then they needed to do it as secretly and quietly as they possibly could. And that meant no helicopters or any other big things. Lestrade had a briefcase in hands. It was full of guns and other handy stuff.
Suddenly, a phone box rang across the street, but they both ignored it. A few seconds later, another phone box rang this time much closer to them. Sherlock stopped for a second, looking at the box, but then continued in his hurried walk. And then a third phone box rang, right next to him. And this time, he came to answer it.
"Hello?" asked he, uncertain if it was Mycroft or someone who would be able to find him like that.
"Hi!" was the answer from the other side. Sherlock's eyes widened and his blood started to boil in his veins.
"Moriarty," he said through his gritted teeth. Lestrade came closer to hear him.
"It's Jim, if you don't mind, I think we know each other well enough now," came Moriarty's reply. Sherlock could hear that he was smiling.
"Let John go! Where are you hiding!?" Sherlock said furiously.
"Whoa," Moriarty laughed "Someone's really desparate here, right?" Sherlock took a deep breath "Anyway, I just wanted to inform you that John will suffer and die reeeally slowly," he said "And where I am? Well, somewhere where you can't find me. Or," he exclaimed and paused for a few seconds to add the drama moment "somewhere, where you can find me, and maybe, maybe that's exactly what I want! Remember - maybe, bye!"
"No, wait!" Sherlock shouted to the phone, but the Moriarty was already gone. Sherlock frowned. How much he hated that guy. He thought he was being funny, but he wasn't. And he thought he was clever, which, on the other hand, was true, and that made him very dangerous. And John was at his mercy now.
"We need to hurry and find him, Garth," said Sherlock and hurried to stop the nearest cab he saw. Lestrade knew it was pointless to say that it wasn't his name. It didn't matter when John was in danger.
They were on their way already about 10 minutes, but they were both quiet. Sherlock was thinking about how will they rescue John, but as much as he tried, his mind always wandered back to their arguing yesterday. He regretted his silence now. He should have told John that he loves him. It would be all so much easier.
Greg suddenly shook Sherlock's shoulder and Sherlock realized that he was asking something, probably for second time already. "Sherlock," Lestrade said "Are you with me?" he asked.
Sherlock looked at him "Yeah, er ye-yeah I-" he stuttered, so Greg just repeated his question from earlier.
"How did it happen?" he asked, curious.
"Moriarty was threatening us, John was arguing with me, then he ate a cake with sedatives and fell asleep. I ate it too, so I didn't notice anything." Sherlock answered in monotone voice and turned back to stare out of the window.
And then, yet again, silence fell.
xoXOXox
John's POV
Everything was dark.
The first thing he noticed was that someone was whistling. He tried to open his eyes, but they were so heavy. Eventually he managed to open them enough to see something.
Everything was blurry. He blinked a few times so he could see better.
The next thing he noticed was that he was sitting in a chair and that his hands were tied behind his back. He stirred a little and realized that his legs were tied too - to the legs of the chair he was sitting on. It wasn't very comfortable.
He took a deep breath, and immediately regretted it, because the air was awful. He started to cough. When he stopped, he was conscious enough to look around him. He was in some kind of a warehouse. It was empty, except for him. He was sitting in the middle on his chair. He didn't even have a gag as he supposed he would have.
The warehouse he was in, was pretty large. And high. There were even stairs that lead somewhere upstairs. But he could see the ceiling that was above his head. It looked like an old roof made of metal. As far as he could tell, the warehouse was long ago abandoned. At least he really didn't see any reason why would anyone go here when it looked like it looked like now. Nasty, dirty, full of dust. Terrible air. And why would they (whoever they were) take him to a warehouse that was still in service anyway. Of course it had to be some old, empty, stinky one.
As he realized, the whistling stopped. He looked around, but he couldn't see anybody.
"Well, well, well," a voice echoed suddenly from behind him. That someone went slowly right in front of John, stared close into his face and smiled widely "Our sleeping Beauty is awake," he said.
"...Moriarty." John breathed with his eyes already wide.
Moriarty looked down for a second, and then back at John with his smile even wider this time, and said:
"Hi!"
Hope you enjoyed! :)
