Summary: John appears at a crime scene at an unexpected moment.
Sherlock is surprised but needs John's help.
Revised: Part 1 (6/11/17)
Chapter Four: Invisible Witness
John stared off as Sherlock left the room, this was it.
He's done the impossible, he's met his long lost child, and the feeling of accomplishment was overwhelming, but now what?
John suddenly jumped when his pocket vibrated. He shoved his hand in his pocket finding a phone, he was surprised he hadn't noticed it. The smart phone was a emergency communication device for some spirits.
The caller ID said Harry.
With nine missed calls.
John panicked as he pressed answer.
"John! Now you answer your phone, we're having a meeting. I know you just transferred, so why didn't you pick up?"
"I-" John slapped a hand over his mouth, remembering that his voice was now a lot deeper.
"Johnny? Answer me, is everything alright?"
'Whispering's fine right?' John nodded his head with confidence. That was a lie, John was actually cold-sweating as he exited the restaurant into the night's cool air.
"Hey Harry," he tried his best to keep his tone flat, "Sorry. The child I was with couldn't sleep."
"You... sound weird."
John quickly replied in a shrill voice, "Yup, just got into a dispute nothin' else."
Another flat-out lie, John felt like choking himself, he was definitely never going to try lying to anyone ever again.
"Wait- what? You have a newborn, how can you get in a fight-" John could hear the eye-roll, "Never mind, just hurry up! It's not that hard to travel here."
After Harry hanged up, John let out his breathe he didn't notice he was holding in. He stared at his phone, wondering can he even teleport in his current form. Looking around checking for any people in sight, John slid into the nearest alleyway.
He sighed and lifted two fingers in a circular motion across his other hand, then vanished.
John found himself standing outside a small flickering building with police cars surrounding the block. Great, he was a positively visible being so there was no way sneaking in past the police or detective inspector. Since he still seemed to be able to use his powers, probably the other spirits had already sensed him. He decided to knock on the door.
It was either fate or misfortune to see the Donovan person opening the door.
"Hello."
"You again, don't tell me Sherlock sent you," Donovan glared at John, he shifted rubbing his shoulder absently. Just go with the flow.
"I need to get information from the kid," John said. This was probably another large case, since Sherlock was participating.
"Sure go ahead, I'm sure they won't utter a single word in our direction. Let alone to an insane acquaintance of Sherlock Holmes. They don't even act like normal kids hiding around the corners, if you ask me I think they need a mental hospital."
More than one child, this was serious.
John felt anger boiling within him, the energy was trying to escape. "Can I go in or not? If these children contain valuable information, it's not my fault you're not getting it," he bit back bitterly made Donovan flinch and step aside.
"Thank you," John barged into the house letting his instincts pick up the surroundings and which room was which.
The kid's room was shared with three children and one older, a bit obvious since there were toddler shoes outside the door. There was probably no child that takes their shoes off other than a person who order them, and the adults were in the living room so that meant an older child who decided to reign over these kids. John smiled remembering Sherlock's first brilliant deductions.
The door suddenly banged open to a fluster Harry Watson, John raised his hands in defence brain rushing to find an explanation for his current form. Harry frowned and ran back into the room while the older child was staring at his door like he just saw a ghost.
Right, she probably thought that John was some normal human being who couldn't see imaginary friends. She already broke the most important rule, don't let people know you're there.
The kids were staring intensely at the new intruder, making John feel bad. He should at least gain their trust in order to get information, that's why he was able to get in here through alibi.
"Did you see that?" The older child muttered under his breath, falling on his pillow, "I knew this house had ghosts."
"No that was Harry," one of the kids glared at the older, small blue eyes shining. John decided to take the opportunity, he walked toward the small huddle. He noticed his fellow partners Bill Murray and Mike Stamford focused on their own children.
"Who's Harry, kiddo?"
The tiny toddler pointed in Harriet's direction, "Her. She's my best friend." Normal people would see a wall.
"Can I talk to her? Talk to all of you?" Patience. Harriet rolled her eyes, "Daniel, tell him he can't see me. Or talk to anybody else."
Daniel was about to reply when John cut in, staring directly at Harriet Watson, "For God's sake Harriet, you called me here what do you want?"
"Oh my God." Harriet stared wide-eyed, "John? What in the world happened to you?"
"No wonder we all felt your presence."
"So now you're a human," Bill Murray snorted. Murray was John's partner during the war, only Murray's child left because she was too sick.
"It is not funny!" John flushed at his imaginative partner, "I'm not sure why I'm like this anyway, it's not my fault!"
Mike Stamford grinned at John's direction, "It's because he fell in love."
John's face was burning up, "SHUT UP!"
"JOHN!" The spirits hissed in unison. The kids, John never felt more embarrassed in his life. All the spirits had already commanded their child to go to sleep and forced the older one also.
"What do you mean fall in love?" John sputtered.
Mike shrugged, "I heard this happened once, when this one spirit decided he just couldn't split with his child. He went missing only others to find him as a human."
"Stop sprouting utter nonsense," Harry interrupted, "We're holding a meeting here because of a family incident." John straightened from his bed post, "Death?" Harry shook her head, looking at all the members.
"Oh, murder." Murder was taken seriously in any meetings, some spirits could be witnesses but they can't tell anybody.
"They thought it was suicide, all of a sudden the police come again thinking murder," Bill frowned, "But I think I saw something. Maybe you can help tell them. Their Mum just came home, someone was with her. Vic needed the toilet and I travelled upstairs where the adults were, but it was darker than a closed closet. I could only make out the pill bottles and the man had a cap."
"That's it?", John scowled at the little information.
"All that I could see. But the man also had on glasses and he also arrived on a cab. No more."
"End of meeting. The children have to go to their proper beds and John, go help the police. We have to go, you know the rules." Harry Watson sighed, "Find a place to stay, I'm worried about you." John stood up nodding, time limits were up.
Before he could open the door, it opened itself smacking his left hand.
Only to find Sherlock standing in front of him.
John was clenching his left hand trying to rid of the pain, What was it with doors hitting him today?
"I could hear you all the way down the street in a cab, you must have really gave Donovan a headache haven't you?" Sherlock glanced at John while surveying the room and gave a satisfied hum.
"I enjoyed talking to the kids."
Sherlock raised his brows, "Enough to make them fall asleep for a while. Don't lie to me John, they have obviously slept for over ten minutes straight with you yelling in thin air." John noticed Harry crossing her arms in the corner of his eye.
"What is it?" Sherlock turned around also.
"Nothing. Why don't we go outside?" John panicked brushing his trinket, "I got some information." John noticed Sherlock was staring at the trinket with a confused expression.
Shoot.
John quickly spun around and exited the room, pulse ticking like a bomb. It really was not a good idea for Sherlock to find out who he is or was. He hurried past Donovan, rushed outside the house waiting for Sherlock to catch up.
"Can we find a private place?" John shoved his hands in his pockets.
Angelo's.
His left hand stopped trembling.
A Mini Fic
John: Why do doors hit me?
W_H: I like to see you injured.
Sherlock: Pedestrian. Can I injure him?
John & W_H: No. Yes.
"Watson_Holmes continues to drink his tea while Sherlock chases after John." ~fin.