Sherlock lay next to Jayden on the futon. The voice had started calling his name once again, after only a brief absence.
Not Real. Not real. Not real!
I-I have a... fever? Right. Yes.
Lestrade said my mind was making it up.
He wouldn't lie to me, and he's slightly more intelligent than most idiots so...
Lestrade is right.
Not real. Not real. Not real...
Sherlock repeated this in his mind over and over, trying to convince himself of it.
He was met with yet another sleepless night.
Lestrade awoke in the morning and walked into the living room. He saw Sherlock laying next to Jayden, his eyes closed, but knew better than to suspect that the detective was asleep.
Lestrade stepped closer to the futon and Sherlock's lids slid open, revealing the spidery red veins that laced the white of his eyes. Exhaustion was clear.
"You never fell asleep, did you?" Lestrade's words were more statement than question.
"No."
Sherlock slid himself from beneath the blankets, and sat up, the lower half of his left arm positioned horizontally on top of his legs, his right elbow rooted in the upward palm. His right hand massaged his forehead.
"Sherlock..."
"Don't worry." Sherlock answered the unspoken question. "It stopped."
"When?"
Sherlock shrugged. "I didn't think to check the clock."
Lestrade noticed Sherlock flinch slightly as he pressed his palm to his forehead, but he didn't move away.
"Your fever hasn't broken." Lestrade said, withdrawing his hand.
"Would you have expected it to?" Sherlock asked, a slight bitterness in his sarcasm.
"Not really." Lestrade answered, walking over to flick the light on in the kitchen. After a moment's hesitance, Sherlock followed.
Sherlock glanced distastefully at the cereal box Lestrade was holding.
"Sherlock, I can see your ribs." Lestrade sighed. "At least try an apple."
Sherlock stood, and plucked an apple from the counter. After careful consideration, he bit into it, the crispness filling, and over powering his mouth. He fought the instinct to gag.
This is food.
Food is good.
I need food to think.
No, no- stop gagging!
What's the matter with you?!
It's just an apple!
Lestrade watched sadly as Sherlock struggled, struggled through a few bites of the apple. This was a testament to Sherlock's poor mental state, if nothing else. Sherlock was hungry, Lestrade could tell, but even the sight of food seemed to nauseate him slightly.
We have to find John soon.
After one more bite, Sherlock sighed, and sat the apple on the counter.
"Coffee, maybe?" Lestrade suggested.
Sherlock shook his head.
"I drink to much, and I start wishing for something a little stronger than caffeine."
A look of understanding dawned on the Inspector's face,which was slowly replaced by the same of suspicion.
"Still get cravings then, do you?"
"Sometimes, not often." Sherlock said. "Never very strong, easy to ignore. I'd just rather avoid having them all together."
"That's it?"
Sherlock nodded.
"Good." Lestrade said. "Tea, then?"
"Probably a good idea." Sherlock nodded hesitantly.
"You'll need the energy if nothing else." Lestrade muttered.
They sat at the table, Sherlock drinking his tea, Lestrade his coffee.
Awhile later, Jayden entered, his eyes still half closed with sleep. Sherlock watched as he walked directly to the cereal box, pouring himself a large bowl, the sloshing milk into it. He grabbed a spoon then sat down next to Sherlock at the table.
He's got a good memory, Sherlock reflected, a barely noticeable smile drifted onto his face. For a moment, Sherlock debated on touching him, ruffling his hair maybe, but quickly dismissed the idea for a reason unknown to even himself. He withdrew his hand, which had been creeping toward Jayden until this point. Even half asleep, he knew exactly where everything was. John's not that good even when we're at the flat. Sherlock's smile fell flat.
"Let me GO!"
John struggled against the ropes tying his wrists together behind him.
"You can't do this!" He yelled in rage. "This is kidnapping! I could have you arrested!"
"Name one person that you think would be stupid enough to arrest me." Mycroft smirked.
After a moment's thought, John responded in a confident, even voice.
"Greg Lestrade." he said. "Possibly Sally Donovan as well."
"Lestrade does seem to be quite loyal to you and Sherlock. Alright, I'll give you that one." Mycroft inclined his head. "Now name a judge that would dare prosecute me, and a jury that I couldn't... eh... persuade."
John looked up at Mycroft with surprising calm considering he hadn't come up with anyone.
"I don't know." He admitted. "But you know what I do know?"
I suppose it would be entertaining to humor him. Mycroft thought.
"What?" He asked.
The look of calm on the doctor's face suddenly changed to wrath beyond what Mycroft had ever seen on a human being.
"One way or another," John growled, looking Mycroft directly in the eyes.
"You. Will. Pay."
"Why should I?" Mycroft responded. "It wasn't my idea."
Lestrade pressed the end button on his phone.
"Anything?" Sherlock asked.
"Nothing." Lestrade shook his head.
"Alright Jayden, your time to shine." Sherlock said, taking a seat behind Jayden who was currently exploring Lestrade's laptop.
"Give me something to work off of." Jayden said.
"Temporarily closed train depot. Corrugated metal roof. Not huge, but decent in size. Within a... hundred and fifty mile radius or so." Sherlock said, subconsiously leaning forwards so that his chin rested on top of Jayden's head.
"Have you accounted for the storm?" Lestrade asked after a moment.
"Uh... Yeah." Jayden said, his focus still primarily on the computer.
Sherlock glanced towards the top of the screen.
"You're using the MI5 data base." Sherlock said. "How-"
"Mycroft left his laptop sitting in the dining room on one of his many, pleasant visits." There was no way anyone could miss the sarcasm in Jayden's voice. "I happened to be bored. You know, for being a high up government official, he sure has pathetic passwords."
"That he does." Sherlock agreed.
After a few minutes, the computer beeped, and Jayden pulled up a picture, then slapped his hand down on the desk.
"There's our location."
They've found him.- A
Mycroft slid his phone back into his pocket, and turned to look at John, who was once again, positively fuming.
"My brother's smart." Mycroft said. "He's found your 'location' earlier than I expected. I figured it would be at least another day or two."
John just glared at him.
"Just a temporary inconvenience, a simple adjustment of plans. No matter." Mycroft smirked. "The fun begins."
John yelled through his recently placed gag, seething with anger.
He. Will. Pay.
A/N: Sorry I left you waiting so long, but I had a great time at camp. I ended up writing a song afterwards so that's what held me up. I realize this is sort of a filler chapter, but I had to get a few details in here that I felt hadn't been dealt with enough before. That's and I was really, really, really wanting that last scene. So just stick with me. In the next chapter, the excitement begins.