A/N: I found this amusing towards the end of this chapter but it seems in this chapter and in chapter 21 of my other fanfic I have John being knocked unconscious. Not intentionally, might I say, but I still find it a little interesting. I don't know, I really enjoy having John getting hurt which is contradictory to me wanting to hug him in situations such as Reichenbach.

Hm... Well, whatever the case may be, here is the chapter! I passed out early yesterday so I couldn't post it then, but I'm posting it now and I will strive to get the other chapter out today when I finish it.

With that said, read/follow/fav/review. Enjoy the chapter!

Ciao~

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

Chapter 8: Hue

"Is this it then?" I whispered beside Sherlock, peering around a few crates at a building that was languidly guarded. The structure itself was a warehouse with a few little compartments attached to it. I couldn't see any light within the heavily tinted windows but didn't attempt to get any closer than I was. No doubt I would be spotted by even those idle protectors. Every so often a man or women would pass by the entrance of the enigmatic building with a bored expression.

Scattered around the entrance were multiple piles of crates, one of which Sherlock and I were currently hiding behind. Everything was eerily quiet without any breeze to change it. It was like an atmosphere of waiting.

Curiosity was burning in my veins and adrenaline was following neck in neck. We must have been a quarter of a mile from the building but my feet were itching to get closer. I wanted to see what this secret society was of and if I should attempt to exploit it. I couldn't deny the rush that came with it was exhilarating.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was completely calm beside me. He was looking everywhere but the warehouse, specifically at the shrubs and trees dotting the walls. I couldn't see what he was aiming with those sort of aspects, but he was an odd one. No doubt he had some plan in his head that was extremely dangerous, stupid, and genius.

"Sherlock!" I hissed and he jerked out of his reverie, glancing at me.

"Hm? Oh, yes. This is it. I didn't think you would need clarification. You're pulse and heart beat certainly didn't need one." He smirked at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, Mr. Smart Alec, so while we are here awaiting for an opportunity, might I ask what The Sepia Order does?" That was the one piece of information he never gave me and couldn't piece myself no matter how much I stressed my brain. I have wondered if it is because he didn't know it or if he was keeping information out. Either way, the question seemed to have left him speechless and reserved. I began to have my doubts when he responded.

"That is what I am here to find out," he confirmed after a moment of awkward silence. "Like I said before, I have been monitoring them since the string of murders, but I have yet to distinguish why they are here and what their objective is."

I was about to open my mouth again to ask another question when he shook his head.

"We can't sit here asking questions about what we don't know. It's pointless and it will waste any valuable time we have to figure it out ourselves. We have to start with action and that is where you will come in specifically."

"Me?" I rose my brow at him, "When did I happen to get pulled into your plan? As far as I am concerned, I never expressed much need before to hint at my coming with you?"

Sherlock looked and me and he mirrored me, "If we are to be flat mates you should know the worst of me, I suppose. For one, I tend to generate multiple scenarios to one case. Therefore when you said you would come with me that fulfilled one them and the plan can go accordingly without pause. It limits the amount of frays and miscalculations in a case."

"So he is like a computer so to speak, a machine even," I thought amused, "Or he is too smart for his own good. More than likely the latter."

Sherlock took a deep breath, sparing a sidelong glimpse at the traversing guards.

"But that is beside the point. I need you to go up to the guards and knock them unconscious. There are only two and they seem rather inattentive."

"Are you sure there are only two?" I received a look that could have been acidic and I chuckled, "Okay got it. Don't get all angry now."

Crouching along the edge of the shadow the crates made, I awaited the guard to turn before quickly moving behind the next pile of crates, this one a few meters from one of the guards. Now that I was this close I could clearly see both guards. One was a female of average height and she seemed to be patrolling the extensions more than the building, in which was being secured by a male about Sherlock's height.

The male would probably be the easiest to go after. The female, although seemingly weak, had something off about her. Maybe it was her spacey expression or the fact her eyes weren't necessarily seeing anything. It was like she was blind but why would someone place a blind woman to guard an important location?

Peering over at her a moment longer, I waited for her to cross one of the hanging lamps. When I could see her clearly I was tempted to cringe, but steeled against it.

Her scleras were yellow but red strings of red blood cells streamed in rivers from the pupil to the outer boundaries of the eye. It was a more severe version of bloodshot eyes. Her mouth seemed to be stitched shut though I couldn't fathom why. Nails were yellow, bitten, or gone and she had splotches of hair on her scalp.

It was like some twisted experiment gone wrong. Then again, wasn't that what Sherlock assumed The Sepia Order did?

"Reminds me of old times in Afghanistan, specifically the Faded Resistance," I thought solemnly, thankful when the woman turned around to walk the other direction. "But at least they didn't leave their experiments in this cursed torture."

Shaking my head, I took a shaky breath, closed my eyes, and opened them. Pushing my worries and concerns to the back of my head, I attempted to shadow them so the more ideal qualities could come through, particularly stealth and agility. Slowly my mind became clearer and my past remained as so.

By this time she was gone, back in the shadows to the area she guarded. The other male also had his back turned. This was my chance.

"It shouldn't take too much to knock out this bloke. Perhaps the usual military basics? No, probably not. Something quieter where it won't attract the woman. Then strangulation would have to work."

I grimaced at the method. I know several methods to knock someone out but strangulation is normally a fool's proof way of obtaining it. It may be a tad difficult since he is taller than me. No doubt I will get some bruising and scrapes from his hands trying to claw at me.

A sigh escaped my lips. All for this detective. Damn it.

No time to regret it now.

Crouching, I crept to the shadow the warehouse provided and slowly made my way to the man. When he stood still, I held my breath and counted to three before jumping behind him. Swinging my arm around his neck, I stuck his head in the crook of my elbow and wrapped my other hand around his mouth and nose to restrict nose and breathing. As we scuffled, he managed to kick me in the knee and I winced before fixing my hold.

Multiple scratches and more than enough bruises later he was unconscious. Dragging his body, I leaned him against the side of the warehouse in the shadows.

Testing my knee, I flinched. He had definitely done some damage to it. I was going to have to check it out after this. Right now wasn't the time to worry about my injuries. Leaning my weight on my other leg, I leaned against the building and prepared to turn around the corner.

Now for the female.

When I turned around, however, I came face to face with her. She must have been two or three meters away from my form. When had she heard me? Sure there was noise but it was so minimal that she shouldn't have been able to hear it.

Her eyes bore into my own with a dead expression while her mouth attempted to speak through her stitched lips. Something resembling a whisper left her lips but I couldn't tell words from air. It all sounded the same and she couldn't make it any more pronounced or louder.

When she looked at me, she saw I didn't understand and released a small sigh through her laced lips. She had given up conversing and brought out a Swiss army knife instead.

"Wonderful," I thought sarcastically while slowly bringing my fists out in front of me. I was at a disadvantage. Hopefully she wasn't too good with the blade. Then again, I highly doubt it judging by the way she was holding it. Perhaps if I side step her first blow I can smack her wrist so she can drop it and go from there with-

Suddenly, the woman's eyes went wide. I watched her carefully, unsure on what just happened. Finally her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she fell to the floor, Sherlock behind her with a wooden board in his hands.

"You did a mediocre job, John, but perhaps next time you should take note that since she is blind, as I am sure you noticed, her other senses will be significantly heightened. Taking out the female would have been the best choice of the two." Huffing at his criticism, I took the board from his hands and placed it against the warehouse as well.

"Yeah? I didn't see you trying to knock both of them out," I countered.

Sherlock shrugged, "I had more important matters to attend to. That being our entrance into this supposedly vacant building." His eyes fell on the tree once more and I followed his gaze to see one of the branches leading to a window. The glass had shattered long ago leaving a few jagged edges here and there and a perfect entrance to boot.

"Fine. I'll accept it this time, Sherlock. Only this time since you figured out a way to get us in. Now, what do we do from here?"

I could see the faint traces of a grin on the detective's face, "I was under the influence that you didn't wish to follow me in this disposition. What has changed your mind, doctor?"

I imitated his grin with more vigor, "Maybe I have found something interesting about your line of work. Maybe. Don't get your hopes up."

"Oh, of course not." Sherlock walked up to the tree and I trailed after. When we were at the trunk, I noticed that it wasn't too tall. I was certain that even I could have climbed it if necessary.

"You will stay here."

"I will what?" I breathed, disbelief in my eyes. Did he just say I was to stay here? No. Absolutely not. Not only was Sherlock injured, but he was a danger magnet. I didn't know this man long, but I knew enough to not trust him on his own. Sherlock seemed to follow my train of thought with a frown.

"I will be fine. I just need you to stay out here for now. If we both went in at the same time no doubt anyone in there would hear us. Also, the kick you sustained from that young man seems to be affecting your steps and one step is heavier from the other. Therefore, it is only logical that I go in. I will motion for you if I need you."

I couldn't believe it. "So I am supposed to stay out here?"

Sherlock was already climbing up the tree, "Didn't I make that clear? Oh, and I assumed you brought your pistol with you, correct?"

I nodded, wondering in my mind how he knew about it.

"If I motion for you, then I am in immediate need of your service. Be sure to have your pistol ready because I am sure we will need it." I looked down and shook my head, agitation inkling in slowly. After a second I glanced back up and saw Sherlock making his way across the branch. He was elegant and each step was never faulty.

"Why do I have this feeling that you would never do such a thing, Sherlock?"

Sherlock turned to me and grinned, "I said flat mates should know the worst of each other, did I not?" With that he hopped into the window and silence fell like a thick curtain.

Leaning against the tree the detective was climbing not too long ago, I released a sigh I never realized I had been holding.

"Look what you have gotten yourself into, John," My morality chastised me, "You are a doctor. A respected citizen and now, for the man who you think is your mate, you are rummaging the streets for criminals!"

Yeah. Just for Sherlock Holmes.

That's a lie. Maybe it was my past beckoning the adrenaline antics or perhaps it was that this was definitely unorthodox to my everyday life; no matter the reason, I found this part of Sherlock's profession strangely thrilling and addicting. Damn this man to find something that would attract me so.

"Well, he is your mate."

He might. He might be my mate.

I was still trying to understand that and I was finding it difficult without any help from someone of Iridescence value. Not to mention I haven't had the time to completely come to terms with it, this mating.

My mind was in a debate. Part of my wished for a mating since I have spent quite a bit looking for mine. It wanted to see color and all that nonsense the Iridescence seem to gloat about.

But at the same time, I didn't want him to be my mate. I didn't want that phrase to be hanging above every reason that I enjoyed this man's company, prat or not. He was definitely someone that I probably needed in my life, someone to define what I missed in my previous occupation, but for every reason I would give why, it would be countered with soul mating.

Which was absolutely absurd.

A shuffle in the distance brought me out of my contemplation with tense muscles and itching fingers. My gun felt heavier than lead in the back of my pockets. The atmosphere thickened with the sudden change in mood.

A few more noises followed and I found my eyes averting to every shadow around this tree. Taking a step back, I sunk into to midnight shade of the tree and tried to make as little noise as I could.

Gradually, the noises came to a stop. I knew somebody was there. Perhaps multiple people considering the varied direction I heard the shuffles in. They were waiting. Waiting for me to make my move; to make a mistake.

I was about to begin climbing up the tree to get a better view when a twig snapped behind me.

Pulling a one-eighty, I came face to face with a brute. I didn't have a chance to make a sound before something came down on my head. Everything went in circles before fading to black.