Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 147
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*Congratulations to Benedict Cumberbatch for winning best actor at the Broadcasting Press Guild Awards. Sherlock and Parade's End.
A disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss; along with the amazing Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch. No money was made. The story, however, is my original thought and comes out of my overactive imagination. Other characters introduced are also mine.
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*****. *** Warning for violence, drug reference T rated ****. ****
"… Always think twice before the pawn move, pawns do not go back."
… The Fall… Part III…
"A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for."~ William Shedd
Three Hours Before.
The Homeless Network
He was strong, a leader from the beginning. He looked out for everyone on this corner of London. Each area had a watcher, as they called themselves. And Mum, the oldest among them, was the leader of everyone.
He spotted the lone figure. Milty's mind wandered as he watched his brother walk up to him. He was not his brother by blood, but everyone in the network was family. They had no one that they could trust, or count on but themselves. There were a few exceptions. Mr. Sherlock was an exception, more recently, and so was Doctor Watson.
Milty watched as the older youth walked. His dark-gray hood was on, his head was down, and his hands were in his pocket. The light foot traffic made it easy for him to see him from afar. Something was wrong. If his shoulders were held any tighter, they would snap. He also noticed that Buzz's steps were quick, a little too quick. It lacked his normal, slow pace.
Milty's frown deepened as he waited. His own body stiffened in anticipation.
Buzz walked up to Milty and looked.
"What?" Milty asked as he leaned against the wall.
Buzz eyes peeked through long hair that covered his face "I heard some-im about Mr. Sherlock."
Milty said nothing, but gave a nod to encourage him to continue.
Buzz fingers moved the dirty blond hair that had fallen in front of his eyes again. "It's bad. We gotta give Doctor Watson a ring."
Milty nodded. "Jen's coming later to…"
"Nah." The normally quiet youth spoke up. Buzz looked at Milty, determined. "We need to give-im a ring, now."
Current Day
Two Hours Earlier.
John sat back and laid his head against the seat of the taxicab. He ran two slightly calloused fingers distractedly over the slight stubble on his chin. He exhaled a breath. It sounded too loud in the enclosed space.
He felt his body shift from left to right as the automobile gently bumped and rocked while being driven. He attempted to rest his body, but his mind was alert. He thought deeply. He did not have much time. He had to reach Scotland Yard before Sherlock became bored and popped out on his own.
John glanced out the window. The buildings looked more neglected. The cab turned onto a new street. It continued to drive slowly in the current area. He had asked Sherlock's homeless network to keep an ear open, to any news of anything that sounded like it might concern Sherlock. John sighed again more dramatically now. He did not notice that his left hand was tapping his thigh rhythmically.
John's mind wandered, as he thought deeply.
Several persons from the homeless network had contacted him with troubling news. Jazz had informed him, that there have been two men who were unknown to the network, who was asking about information concerning Sherlock.
Everyone had pretended not to know him; a few had given nonspecific false information. The most troubling report from the network came today. He just left a meeting with Milty, and Buzz. They told him about those same men inquiring about Sherlock's past drug addiction.
John's mind wandered.
Sherlock had been clean for so long that the younger ones had never seen him high. A few of the older once knew him during his Uni days. During Uni, he had a six month period where he used regularly. He would even spend days with the homeless. During his worst period, a few of the older homeless, along with an older woman, whom many of the homeless referred to as 'Mum', took pity on the clueless kid, as they referred to him back then. They protected him from harm, and abuse. Several weeks later, several men, including one man who identified himself as his brother, found him. They carried the drugged, and sleeping young man away.
The homeless had not seen Sherlock again for five months. When they did, it was not drugs that he was seeking, he was giving out food, water, and blankets to those homeless who lived on the streets of London.
John turned to look out the window as his mind returned to the present.
John thought back to an earlier phone call from Sherlock. It had been cryptic. Sherlock had informed him that he would talk to him later at the flat. John had agreed with relief. Tonight when Mycroft came to the flat, they would have a talk with Sherlock. It was time to expose the secrets.
The ringing of his mobile interrupted his thoughts. John did not hide his surprise. He frowned as he picked his mobile phone up, "Yes Donovan?"
John listened for a moment in silence. He pursed his lips together. "I understand." John sighed. "Thank you, Donovan."
John thought for a moment and called Mycroft. He waited impatiently for the elder Holmes to pick up the mobile. When Mycroft did answer, John's voice was rushed and breathy. "Mycroft." John paused slightly, "I think we need to activate the tracker. How long will it take to activate it?"
Mycroft voice came on the other line. "It's a global tracker, John. It will take a little over an hour. I can only activate it once. You know that Sherlock will never agree to another insertion. John I must ask you, are you sure? What has happened? We could simply trace his mobile."
"The last time we traced his mobile. It was taken away from him, and used as a decoy. I have to be sure." John was unyielding. Something inside of him told him that time was something Sherlock did not have.
Mycroft did not agree, comment, or disagree. John heard him giving commands in the background. John knew that Mycroft was taking his request seriously.
John exhaled relieved.
"I have a bad felling Mycroft. Within the last three hours, I've had several people tell me that some men have been asking around about Sherlock among the homeless population." John knew he sounded paranoid. He did not care.
"There is something else, John."
"Donovan just gave me a ring. She has been keeping an eye on Sherlock today. During Lestrade's press conference, she noticed him leaving in a hurry." John hesitated again. "Anderson left directly before him."
A caller ID warned John that Sherlock was trying to reach him.
John frowned. "Wait, Sherlock is ringing me." John pushed a button and put Mycroft on hold while he answered the call.
"Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock's voice came in a broken pattern. Wherever he was, the mobile signal was weak. "Sherlock!" John tried again louder. Sherlock seemed to not be able to hear him. The line disconnected. He ignored the look of the cabby in the rearview mirror.
Sherlock had only said one word.
John.
The one word was enough. The tone of Sherlock's voice convinced him of one thing. Sherlock was in trouble.
John would try to call Sherlock back, but the mobile signal was weak, he seemed to be unable to connect. He was determined to try again, but first he reconnected to Mycroft.
"Activate the tracker." John looked grim.