AN:Hey guys so here's the next chapter, i do hope you like it, leave me a comment after you've read to tell me what you liked about this chapter and i'll see you guys in the next chapter! I'm so glad that my school term will be coming to a close in about a month and then i'll have two months off! So you guys can expect more stories then! :)

Chapter 12: The Webbed Void

The next day, Sherlock and John headed down to the Webbed Void, a pawnshop that was about three streets away from where Lestrade's place was. The bell rang as the two entered the shop and the owner looked up from a catalogue that he had been reading.

"Can I help you?" he asked, rather annoyed that someone had disturbed his otherwise quiet morning.

"My name is Sherlock and this is John," Sherlock introduced as he let his eyes scan the interior of the shop. Shelves filled with the trinkets and oddities that only could be found in a pawnshop. Strewn around the interior were other things, an old gramophone, a pinball machine and even a pacman arcade game. Everything looked normal enough for a pawnshop, no signs of anything out of place. The owner himself was an ordinary human, uninterested in life, the kind of person that just moved through day to day life without really living.

"I'm Anderson, how can I help?" the man, Anderson, asked his eyes studying the new customers, not letting on if he knew that Sherlock was a vampire or not. It would be best if he just got them whatever they wanted and get back to his job.

"We're here about this cane," Sherlock said as he laid the cane down on the counter, "we found this somewhere in our house when cleaning you know. It seemed sort of valuable so we asked around and a relative of mine said that it linked is back to this place. It was bought from this store. Tell me where did you get it from?"

Anderson examined the cane, he hadn't seen such a thing before, "I've never seen this in the shop before," he murmured as he pulled out the logbook, scanning through the descriptions in the past few days there was no cane with a gold eagle, "there's no record about this here. It looks old, the design. Maybe you can search the rest of the books in the back room?"

"Alright," Sherlock said, following as Anderson led them behind the counter and into the room in the back.

He turned on the lights for them and showed them the shelves, that were stacked high with books and other trinkets that were to be put on display, "You can find everything in the books over there," he said indicating the red binding of the book's spine, "They're all archived by year. The description of the item is on the inside along with the name of the person who bought it. I hope you find what you're looking for then," he muttered as he left the two alone, going back to the front of the shop to tend to it.

"Well I guess we're going to be here for awhile…" Sherlock muttered as he took out a few books at once, moving over to the table on the other side of the room. John took another small stack of logbooks from the shelf and took them over to the table, sitting down opposite Sherlock as they began their tedious search for a small piece of information.

They spent the whole of lunch in the small room, Anderson dropping by to say that he'd bought lunch for them. Neither of them talked as they sat there, each too engrossed in looking for either Mycroft's name or for a description on the cane, that and also the fact that John was still contemplating his feelings for Sherlock.

"Hey, you guys, um…I'm getting off from work now, when you guys finish later just help to lock up the place and all," Anderson said as he popped his head around the corner looking into the back room, seeing the two hunched over a logbook each, scanning through the different writings, looking for something to do with the cane. They only nodded to acknowledge that they had heard him, with a sigh Anderson left the two there and went home for the day.

It was getting late when Sherlock's eyes caught the name printed right at the bottom of the page. Mycroft Holmes, his brother's scrawl of a signature and right there in the description column were the words, 'black cane, gold eagle handle'. Scanning further, Sherlock found that the item had indeed been pawned but under the seller's column was a dash. Anonymous. He leaned in closer. '-' was all that was written under the seller column. A dash. A line.

"A bloody dead end!" Sherlock growls as he throws the book right across the room, losing his temper. He couldn't believe that they had done this all for nothing!

Startled by the sudden outburst John immediately tries to comfort Sherlock, "At least we know it isn't your brother's for sure. We know that he bought it from here a long time ago," John says, looking to the vampire. He knows it had been a long day and they were both tired physically and mentally.

"That's not the point…" Sherlock said as he closed his eyes, stretching and then leaning back in the chair, "Whoever put me in there sure as hell doesn't want me to find him!" he mutters his temper easing at John's words.

"Lestrade's still working on the other end to find out about Irene's case," John reminded Sherlock, wondering still who the woman was and what connection did she have in all this, "Maybe we'll get a lead there?" he says trying to be a little helpful.

Sherlock opens his eyes now looking to John who is giving him such a kind look, the vampire had noticed the slight change in John since the day before and he was somehow inclined to share his story with John seeing the other treating him with kindness. John deserved to know. He was sure that the human was just as curious about his life and his past. Sherlock smiled a little, "Maybe we will," he says as he stands now, "Let's get back to your place John, I need to talk with you and I think you've got questions you want me to answer.

John is a little startled, his little bit of kindness had gotten Sherlock to open up to him this much…he swore he was only going to fall deeper and deeper with that one act of kindness. It was only a matter of time now.

Across the street from the Webbed Void was a small café, a woman sat at the window seat on her own, sipping coffee from a china cup as she kept an eye on the pawnshop. She was just about to stand and leave, her daily routine as it was, when she spotted them. Sherlock and John coming out of the pawnshop together.

They were alive.

She needed to tell him.

She needed to inform the Father.