Cold Obsidian Eyes

by johnsarmylady

London, after Moriarty's attempt to take over the country, is left in the hands of ruthless and power hungry gangs. Sherlock Holmes, scientist, found himself kidnapped, rescued, and dragged into the fight by a stranger and his unusual band of followers. But Sherlock has a secret that could spell death for all of them. An AU told in 221B format. Rated M for later themes.

49. Lost Treasure

Sherlock's eyes lit up like a child at Christmas, and just as quickly that light died.

"What about equipment? Mine was destroyed." He ruffled his fingers through his hair. "And chemicals, I'll need to replace the chemicals."

"What else?"

"Nothing else, Mike has the notes, and also a number of the items that I was experimenting on."

"No, that's not it." John frowned. "It's your voice. You sounded sad when you mentioned your equipment being destroyed. What else?"

"My violin," Sherlock replied softly. "My grandfather left me his Stradivarius; it was my relaxation, my means of stilling the rush of thoughts that would keep me awake for days on end." He sighed. "Playing my violin was as natural to me as breathing. I daren't hope that they ignored it."

John his hand across his forehead, nodding in understanding.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry about that. I hate Barrymore's destructive nature, but that won't fix the damage he's caused." He moved closer, his hand unerringly finding its way to Sherlock's shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. "Mrs Hudson is making arrangements for some equipment for you, let me know if you need anything else once that's in. Meanwhile, we need to collect your notes from Mike."

"You're right," Sherlock said, shaking off his melancholy. "The sooner we get them, the sooner I can begin."