Disclaimer: Do not own.
Title: Waking Up
Chapter 2 - Percipience
The car didn't move from Baker Street like John had expected. Mycroft talked and he listened. The concern in the elder's voice was thick. He stared out the window as he talked. 'He was doing fine until you…' He dropped off when John jerked his attention to the Holmes. 'Until I what?' Mycroft's grip tightened on his ever present umbrella but he didn't say anything. 'That was not… not my fault.' He blinked at him before turning back to the window. Of course Sherlock could do no wrong. He choked out a laugh and got out of the car. 'He's not a child,' he mumbled before shutting the door. He looked at the reflective glass and then down Baker St. with a groan he turned back to the flat. He needed to confirm… for himself, if all that Mycroft said was true. He stood at the door and looked around the room. It wasn't in the living room. He knew that. He had searched everywhere for his phone the other day, and nothing odd had turned up. Sherlock never went into his room, unless he was dressing. He settled for the kitchen and started searching. He pulled a chair to him and started looking at the top cabinets. He ran his hands along the smooth surfaces, he knew Sherlock would be too clever to hide something in plain sight, even if he said it was the best place to hide something. He glanced at the skull for a second pondering if his logic was wrong and it was right there. He shook his head and moved to get down when his finger ran across something and a spring shot up. He pulled what he had been looking for out and threw it to the counter.
The rage at having to be told by Mycroft, being blamed by him more like, and just the fact that Sherlock was that stupid, had blanked out his entire journey to Lestrade's office. The voice he had woke wanting to hear now just annoyed him. He looked over the papers after his outburst before commenting. His eyes caught a confused, and slightly worried Lestrade before he left the room. He knew Sherlock would follow soon after, just out of curiosity on what had caused the outburst. When he got to the elevator he held the close button, it never closed when you wanted it to, even with that button the doors barely closed before the detective got to them. He walked out of the building and one of Mycroft's cars were waiting. He slid in and his assistant sat in silence her fingers sliding over the phone like she always did. He didn't bother asking anything. They slid to a stop in front of the flat and he moved to climb out. A manicured hand pulled on his elbow. 'Does he need to step in?' John shot her a dark look. He pulled his arm away and shrugged. 'No. I'll deal with it.'
He turned on the lights, the day was darkening with clouds and he wanted to see everything that was about to happen. He thought about taking his jacket off, but decided against it instead he just stood in the middle of the room with the item he hated now stuck in his jacket pocket. He heard the footsteps and pulled the lid down on his anger. He settled for disapproving when the door opened. Sherlock paused and John waved for him to shut the door. He didn't want Mrs. Hudson hearing anything just yet. The door closed slowly and Sherlock started his search for clues. He ground his teeth together and pulled out the bag. He was sure that the detective thought he had covered his shock, but it was clear on his face. John ignored the impressed expression that had settled. His eyes narrowed and Sherlock spoke. He wanted to see something, regret or guilt, anything but he saw nothing but that same idiotic expression that said John surprised and impressed him at the most random moments. He barked out a laugh and threw the bag at him. He felt the edges of Sherlock's coat chase after him as he rushed past. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he couldn't stay there with Sherlock.
He walked around until his leg started to ache. His stomach was burning with hunger and he settled for a little food. He stared at the empty chair across from him and wondered if he went back right now the bag would be empty. He shoved that thought from his mind and set to figuring out what he was going to do for the rest of the day. He walked around until he saw a theater and smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a movie without it being criticized. He managed to watch the first few minutes before his mind started to wander.
He couldn't help but worry about Sherlock. He sighed. There was the case. So he would be consumed by that. He knew Sherlock hadn't looked at it in Lestrade's office, but it felt like one of those cases. One that he would later write up and everyone would love. It would probably always be his least favorite. It never failed that the cases where they had the largest personal issues were always everyone's favorites. He hated them. One time he had typed up everything, it had suspiciously disappeared before he could post it. Sherlock hadn't talked to him for a week after that. He knew the detective had found it and hadn't liked what he'd written. A shout brought his attention back to the screen. For a few moments he was drawn in before his mind dragged him back to the conversation he'd had with Mycroft. It had not been his fault… It hadn't. He had been kidnapped. How had Mycroft thought it was his fault? Did he walk around saying 'kidnap me I have a fragile flat mate that will go bonkers if you do'? No. One day he would punch Mycroft. Just to do it. He could see the various expressions that would cross his face. Maybe he'd steal his safety umbrella and whack him with that. He laughed at one of his imaginings and glanced around to see if anyone looked at his sudden outburst. The movie sucked him in again for just a few minutes before he started to drift again.
He blinked a few times when he realized that people around him were getting up. He looked to the screen and realized he had missed the whole movie. The credits were rolling up the screen with a depressing song filling the room. It didn't help his mood. He found his phone and sent out a text to a few of his friends. The streets pulled him along while he waited for any response. Only one reply came, a rejection. He sighed and walked in the first pub he found. It was still early, but he had nothing else to do. He nursed a pint in the corner, watching the various people coming in. He tried not to see the little details, but failed. He downed the rest of his drink and ordered another. The pub was starting to fill up. He moved from the table when a group of girls shuffled awkwardly around him. They wanted it, but didn't want to ask. He set up at the end of the bar. He could still see the whole room.
Hours passed, he had lost count on what drink this was. He had started up a conversation with one of the bartenders, it was sporadic cause he couldn't just sit and talk, but had to work. Another of the customers came and sat next to him, they talked for a while, occasionally with the bartender who seemed a little wary about the new man. He placed a shot in front of the pair. 'Courtesy of the lady at the end.' They took the shots and downed them. He immediately felt the burn and fought to hold a smile on his face. He washed it down with his own drink and his head felt fuzzy. He took a few deep breaths and his mind settled. He excused himself and walked to the restroom. His bladder was screaming at him, and had been for a while, but he'd been too content to move. He held himself up on the wall while he did his business. 'You want something to make this night interesting.' He turned from the sink and blinked. It was his companion. He shook his head. 'Nah.' He knew what he was talking about. 'I think you should.' He felt the prick of a needle and stumbled away. 'What the fuck?' Laughter was surrounding him. 'Have a good night.' He heard the door shut behind him, but he was still trying to figure out what he'd just been injected with. He found his phone and pulled it out. He found what he hoped was the right number and hit send. 'Hello?' He leaned against the door to a stall in relief that someone had picked up. 'Someone just drugged me.'
A/N: Bear with me. This chapter sucks. I know. I had no idea where I was going after the first one and this kind of was BLAH! to get me started up again. Good news is I know where I'm heading with it now. Please review. I need them. :(