"Are you positive this is a good idea?" John asked Mycroft for the umpteenth time.
"Yes, John." Mycroft sighed. "Just do as I say. Everything has to go exactly according to my plan."
John swallowed, then nodded.
I thought it was my plan...
Sherlock and Jayden sat side by side in the face of the clock tower.
"So..." Jayden started out awkwardly. "You come here often?"
Sherlock shook his head.
"Just when I need to cool down a bit; it's a good spot to think."
"Oh." Jayden said, swinging his feet beneath him.
"I have a spot like this, well, I say have, it's back in California." Jayden said, staring at his feet. "I always liked to sit on top the roof of the children's home."
"Hope you were careful." Sherlock said, "Roofs are dangerous... One fall can change everything."
"So I've heard." Jayden looked back up at Sherlock. "What did you do while you were gone?"
"A lot of things I wish I didn't have to." Sherlock sighed.
There was a moment of silence.
"Does John know about this place?" Jayden asked.
"I think so, yes." Sherlock said.
"You think?"
"He's walked beneath it and looked at it while I was up here." Sherlock said. "But we've never actually discussed it."
They sat in comfortable silence for over an hour, before Sherlock decided they ought to leave.
Mycroft saw Sherlock and Jayden coming towards the flat on the screen.
Show time. He thought, a twisted smile coming to his face.
The moment Sherlock saw the flat, he knew something was off.
The door was closed, but showed signs of a forced entry.
"Stay close." Sherlock muttered, pulling Jayden behind him.
"What's going on?" Jayden whispered.
"I think there's someone in the flat." Sherlock answered, his eyebrows coming together in suspicion. "Someone who's not supposed to be there."
"Stay behind me, we're going in." Sherlock said. "Try to find something to arm yourself with."
Jayden nodded.
Sherlock turned the knob, then pushed open the door. As he did, a small smear of blood on the handle caught his attention.
Intruder bleeding before he entered?
Why?
Might have cut himself as he forced the door open...
Sherlock walked farther into the hall, before pausing at the stairs.
Blood on the stairs.
Someone must have been drug either up or down the stairs...
Both.
First up, then back down again...
Why?
A voice broke through his thoughts.
"Sh-Sherlock?" Only Jayden's voice betrayed his fear, as his face had remained neutral. Jayden cleared his throat, having heard the slight shake himself. Then he spoke again, in a voice that told nothing.
"Is that John's blood?" he asked.
Why did he have to say that?
Why did Jayden have to state the fact that I've worked so diligently to ignore?
"Possibly," Sherlock answered, "But let's not jump to conclusions just yet."
Sherlock worked to free his mind of any sentimental bias.
Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on... Focus!
Sherlock forced himself to continue walking up the stairs, despite the fact that for the first time he could remember the sight of blood churned his stomach.
It's probably John's. His mind supplied.
Shut up! I- I- No jumping to conclusions! His conscious thought responded.
Sherlock heard a sudden rush of breath, Jayden's, he realized. Sherlock looked up to the door in front of him to see that there were bloody hand prints on it, along with a swipe of blood, as though someone had been pushed against it, then slid down.
Something triggered in Sherlock's mind, a short clip of memory depicting a similar scene to that which was in front of him. Even after dwelling on it for a few moments, he still couldn't place it. But he had seen something similar before.
Old case?
Careful not to disturb any evidence that might come in handy, Sherlock advanced.
The flat was in utter disarray, and a struggle had obviously occurred.
"Don't touch anything." Sherlock said.
Jayden looked at the wall where more blood smears were present.
"Wasn't planning on it." He answered.
As they walked through the flat, Sherlock found himself hoping more and more to find John around the next corner. But he never did.
After making a thorough search, Sherlock determined that John wasn't here.
He's gone.
Sherlock felt a cold sweep over him as he struggled to believe the fact. In his mind, he ran over every place he had searched. He hadn't missed anywhere.
The chill persisted as he slipped his hand into his pocket. He felt a bit light headed as he dialed the familiar phone number.
Sherlock listened as the phone rang.
Lestrade frowned at the stack of paper work on his desk. He'd already been working on it for three hours, and he fairly certain that the height of the stack hadn't changed one bit.
If anything, he thought, it's grown.
His mobile rung and he immediately answered it, thankful for the short break it presented.
"Lestrade-"
Sherlock. He sounds... lost. Unsure.
Something is wrong.
"What is it Sherlock? Where are you?" Lestrade said.
Lestrade snapped his fingers for Donovan's attention. She looked over from her desk and nodded, signaling that she was ready for orders.
"Sherlock, tell me what's wrong." Lestrade prompted with urgency.
Lestrade listened as Sherlock explained the situation.
"Okay," Lestrade said, "Don't go anywhere, I'm on my way."
Lestrade hung up the phone and stood immediately.
"What's happening?" Donovan asked.
"I need three cars at Baker St. now. One with me in it." Lestrade said, as he put on his coat. "Try to get people Sherlock recognizes."
"Why?" Sally asked.
"John's been kidnapped." Lestrade said. "And from what I gather, the scene isn't pretty."
A/N: Alright, there was previously a sentence that said "and he became dead" I apologize for that, my little brother got a hold of my computer and added that. I had already proof read it by then, and didn't read it again after that, so I didn't catch it. So if you've already read this, that was not intended. Again, sorry.