Chapter Text
“And I want them all taken down and the holes fixed before I come back” Joan's voice a bit more upset than normal. It was completely understandable that she'd be upset over having to go to dinner with her family. Ohren had just gotten a promotion and new suv that suggest that his little family of two might be turning into a family of three. Thus making Joan, the disappointment.
Not to mention the fact that she was also a little upset that he had set up a 1910’s style intercom throughout the brownstone to solve the “ yelling” complaints they received from the neighbors.
“It is the most efficient way to communicate throughout our home.” Sherlock's voice traveled from the basement to the metal stout that was jetting from the foryar wall.
“If you mean the most efficient way to hear everything everyone is doing at all times of the day threw out the house yes.” Joan stressed as she zipped up the back of her boot.
“ We are both adults and know what sounds to expect from the bathroom and late at night in the bedrooms, there is no need to be modest Watson we are but human.” Joan's teeth were clenched with aggravation. Sherlock round the corner of the stairway banister. seeing her face twisted with frustration quickly added.
“They will be taken down by the time you get home” he helped her put her jacket on as she headed out the door.
Joan was at the restaurant first. she was picking at the white tablecloth, waiting for her family to arrive when she received a text from Sherlock showing a pile of metal tubes and the message
“1fl dwn 2 2go”
“Thank you” she replied, though thanking him for something he shouldn’t have done in the first place was probably a mistake
Before she could press the display button on her phone she received another text, this time from her mother.
“ Where are you we are all at the Serafina on w 77th, what kind of pizza do you want?”
“I thought we agreed to go out for steak, I must have read it wrong I will meet you shortly” Of course they would change their minds and forget to inform her. Joan quickly left to catch the closest cab. Canceling the reservation on the way out.
Clyde has highly inadequate aim. Sherlock repositioned the tortoise with a small flashlight taped to its back so the light would hit the space in the ancient floorboards now he can see the screw that was causing him so much difficulty.
It had only been about an hour from when Joan left and he was only partly done with two floors. “I have estimated that it normally takes about three hours for joan to eat and talk with her family. two hours to eat and talk and 15min to take a long ride over to the gelato shop where she will spend 45 mins trying to unwind. then depending on if she takes -”*Bing*
Sherlock glared at clyde as though he was the perpetrator that made the offending noise interrupting his thought. A message from Mary Watson.
“Is joan not coming, we are waiting for her and she has not answered our calls?”
Sherlock called Joan's phone, It rang twice before a man answered.
“Hello?”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Noah I’m with the Westside steakhouse off a 10th ave. This phone was just found outside the door. If you know the owner could you have them come pick it up please.”
“Did anyone see the owner, she is short, dark hair, Asian, wearing boots and a jacket?”
“Ya know what yea there was a lady who was sitting here waiting but she left saying she made the wrong reservation. But now that I think the rest of her reservation showed up about 5 minutes after she left. they left already though, could you have one of them pick up the phone?”
“I will come get it.”
Sherlock hit end on his phone then placed Clyde, without a flashlight on him, back into his home.
His heart skipped a beat.His hands were shaking from the memory of when his brother had come to visit last year and Joan had been kidnapped. Not knowing where she was and if he could help her. If she was safe. It was happening all over again.
“mmmmm” sherlock took a deep breath and let it out. dont overthink sherlock it only distracts.
He rushed outside and whistled for a cab. his anxiety was slowly creeping back up his chest. they pulled up to the steakhouse and Sherlock received the phone.
5 missed calls from Mary and a couple of text from Ohren.
Where are you Joan mom’s getting impatient.
Hurry up we already ordered
Srsly Joan where are you I hate having dinner with just mom you need to be here
she won't stop talking about me starting a family
hlp me joan
Sherlock smirked from the way Ohrens text sounded like he was being tourchered. He notice she had received one text from her mom. Stating she was at the wrong restaurant. Odd considering they ate here anyway. sherlock called Mary from his phone
“Hello? Sherlock, did you find out where Joan went?”
“Hello Mary, not yet, did you tell Joan that you were eating somewhere other than the steak house?
No I-”
Sherlock disconnected the call as he rushed back to the door man Noah. “I will need to see the footage from that camera there from the last two hours.” Sherlock pointed to the camera showing the entrance to the restaurant and most of the street out front.
“Sorry sir we need a warrant or a badge to hand over footage. “
“A young woman was taken from your restaurant and you want to play procedure?!”
“Sir I get paid eight dollars an hour and am looking to be promoted to pay off my student loan, yes I will always play procedures.”
Sherlock's brow twitched in frustration. He called up Bell saying to come at once.
“Sherlock, what's going on?” Bell had shown up in record time. He looks around for a sec before asking. “Wheres Joan?”
“That detective is why I have called you, I have reason to believe that Watson was taken from the front of this restaurant, “Sherlock's voice got expediently louder as he started to shout, “And that young baffoon will not pull the footage for me without your badge!” sherlock begun to bounce from heel to heel. Marcus had never seen Holmes so upset.The pale face, anxiety so high you could feel it, his body is physically unable to not stop moving
Bell showed his badge and asked for the footage before Sherlock vibrated into nonexistence. Noah brought them to the security room where they could watch the film.
While waiting for them to get the film pulled up Sherlock, now calmed down filled Bell in on what was happening.
“Sherlock she has only been missing for a few hours, maybe she had an emergency come up and left in a hurry?”
“What kind of emergency would she have where she did not receive a text or call and that didn't involve either me or her family? hmmm detective” He knows that detective Bell is just trying to help. But Bell doesn't know. He doesn't know about Watson's kidnapping, or how she was almost killed twice that night. How he wanted to kill his brother for putting her in the situation. How much it hurt that he couldn’t protect her.
“Ok here we go detective it's all yours” Noah left the room after passing Marcus the controls
“Ok here's Joan” Bell pointed her out in the video as she is texting
“Great, thank you I would never had known without your keen detective eyes.” Sherlock worked his jaw.
“Listen I know you’re upset, but I am just trying to help so a little less sarcasm would be appreciated” Marcus raised his eyebrows at Sherlock. They both watched as she gets up and speaks to the doorman before stepping out. In the reflection of the glass of the door there is a faint black town car and two men that step out. they are out of frame but you can see Joan take a step back dropping her hand bag. One of the men swoop it up as her phone drops out.
His eyes dart around the monitor as he takes the controls from Bell and slows the video down several times and is adjusting the zoom. His mind absorbing everything in the screen. The man's hand that grabs her purse is marked. There is a slight discoloration on the ends of his phalanges. The man is wearing a sports jacket but not a full suit. On his feet are old construction boots. If only that blasted bar wasn’t on the door he would have been able to see the kidnappers face as he bent down to pick up the purse. He took in the gate of Joan stance. She was taken by surprise, she is not even in a defensive stand. If only he had gone with Watson when she had offered for him to join them. If he could just find a clue something anything to get to Joan. She is out there, albeit well versed in self defence but still two large men most likely armed against shorty mcfightback.
Marcus placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder causing him to jump. “What.” Sherlock shot at him. Still focused on the film. Oddly out of breath.
“Sherlock you were hyperventilating. Listen maybe you should go home and I will check the street cams to see if we can get any footage of what happened” Bell took the controls from Sherlock , searching his face for an agreement.
“I suppose I have other calls to make, thank you detective” He noticed his heart rate was irregularly fast. He wiped some sweat from his forehead and headed for the door, making sure he pocketed Joan’s phone before ducking out.
Back at the brownstone he popped online hoping that everyone is willing to help. Last time he asked for help they made him dress as the little mermaid and sit on a rock at the top of Bear Mountain and let people splash cups of water at him. Embarrassment of that kind is no problem, in all honesty for Joan he would be willing to do anything even run around town in the buff.
The request was being discussed in a chat room with three members. one named ZeroCool posted that they will source the number that the text from Watson's mom really came from. The catch was that he must compose a rap song to the beat of a mr Jon and the eastside boyz “Get low” only using lines from Dr. Suess books.
ShrlckHlms: Deal
Halfway threw his second take of the recording of what he titled Lorax and the Sneetches on Beaches oh the places you’ll get low. There is a ping at the computer. The number that was used to send the text was actually from a computer located at a verizon store in queens
“Both Watson and I have a plethora of enemies out there” he was in the kitchen looking at newspapers for any mention of a black town car while addressing Clyde “But who would take just Watson, and why.” Clyde had begun to scoot off the table when Sherlock picked him up and brought him to eye level. Now nose to nose “ What would Watson have that these people would want? Do they know who we are or are they just kidnappers? or are they trying to get to me?” Clyde had receded back into his shell. “Same” Sherlock said as he set the tortoise back in his terrain.
4am. Waiting. pacing. waiting. checking his phone. waiting. picking at the wallpaper. waiting. move to the next room. Lock room.pacing. Striping down to just chinos . Looking over footage. waiting. doing push ups. pacing. Recaffinate. pacing urination. Squats. Waiting.4:07 am. Damnit.
There were stills from the footage that they had gone over before but there was nothing to see there. Detective Bell had sent over footage of the car going into a tunnel but the car never left. It was found abandoned next to the emergency exit. He had a squad going down there but they both thought it best for sherlock to stay home just in case someone tries to contact him for a ransom or something of the sort.
Mycroft was right. He was rubbing the back of his neck with his hands. She is the person he love the most. She was there for him. After Irene, well Moriarty. She was there after Alistair. She was there when his Best friend other than her Alfredo had be kidnaped. But she was there for his relapse. She seen him fall, his demons, all his self doubt. And helped him back up. But most importantly she stuck around.
Rearranging the library should take up enough time for Bell to restup and come back to the precinct.
He has taken apart all of marcus’s metal mind puzzles that were sitting on his desk as well as finished his whole sudoku book and broke into vacationing Gregson's office. Borde. Anxious. Worried. stressed. you know what would stop all these feelings. Heroin. just a hit. smooth simple small shot. Sherlock had his sleeve turned up.eyes fixed at his veins. rubbing his thumb over old track marks. What would Watson say. Maybe if she were still his sober companion she would take him to a meeting immediately. But Joan, his Watson she would grab his arms, slowly. Look him in the eyes and tell him that she doesn't want him to, that he is a better person now and would not want to throw his sobriety away because of her.
“Sherlock, you doin ok?” Marcus tone was light. Sherlock's relapse was difficult on him. His brothers friends were often drug addicts and would be violent towards him when they were strung out. They always creeped him out. But to see his friend in that state.
“Yes, fine.” he rolled his sleeve back down and cleared his throat. “I have tracked where the misleading text came from and wanted to see if you would like to join”
They show up at the verizon and Marcus’s squad takes over the computers. Sherlock takes a look at the staff as they are being question. most 20 something year olds almost all holding a coffee. one man stuck out.
“Hello there,” Sherlock squinted to read his name tag “Byron”
“Hi sir sorry we aren't taking any customers at this time but the online verizon help is still available and there is another verizon two blocks down if it is an emergency.”
“I'm not interested in your mobiles Byron, I’m interested in the fact that you seem to be wearing long sleeve shirt when it is 95 degrees outside. Its also very interesting that you are shivering, as if you were cold but you are sweating like you should be. You are freshly showered but smell of toilet, tell me Byron when was the last time you shot up?” before Byron could respond Sherlock grabbed his arm and yanked up the sleeve.
“Sherlock?! What are you doing, I know you're stressed but you can't assault random people!” Bell pulled Sherlock off of Byron.
“No look, look at his boots. Look at his fingertips. Ask to see his jacket and you will surely recognize it as well he is the man who took Watson.” Sherlock was swaying from foot to foot. tapping out the tempo to fella from fortune. Marcus could have sworn that Sherlock was making a quiet clicking sound with his mouth.
“Byron could you please show me your coat” Bell made sure Sherlock was behind him. Byron reached behind the desk and pulled out an old sports coat.
“I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the precinct with us we have a few questions for you.”
Sherlock stood on the other side of the mirror watching Byron's movements, looking for lies. To make sure there would be no lawsuits Bell instructed Sherlock to stay in that room till the interview was over.
“Well we have a confession that he was the person who sent the text, but he was at work during the time of the abduction.” Bell peeked up from his notes to see if Sherlock was following. “He said that he was paid to send that message then told to wear the boots and jacket. Said the guy who payed him to do so looked like a bum, and that he hasn’t seen him after he got paid yesterday.”
Sherlock’s gaze had not left Byron during the whole of the interview and during the view over with Marcus. “Thank you detective, but it sounds like we are at a dead end.”
“we’ll find her Sherlock” Marcus spoke softly.
Sherlock, still staring at Byron nodded. When he turned his head to leave Marcus noticed tears in Sherlock's eyes.
It had been six more days without any word from Joan or any new leads. Sherlock has been sent home from the precinct everyday for causing problems.He enlisted everyone of his associates to help find her, from Hudson to the NSA. Though some were more willing to help than others. He went as far as to even ask his father for help. He often found himself sitting in Watson’s room on her bed. Pressing his tear soaked face into her pillow. Clyde has been a good outlet for his ramblings that seem to have grown shorter and quieter with each passing day without his Watson.
Marcus has been showing up at the brownstone every other night to go through the case over and over with Sherlock as well as making sure he eats and at least changes clothes. He also asked Alfredo to go on days he could not. Marry has tried to stop by but Sherlock would not unlock or answer the door.
Sherlock has started to go over old case files to see if there would be anyone that wasn't put away that would want to take out vengeance on Watson. But no one dare mess with her not after what Moriarty did to the last person to mess with her.
There was a small knock at the door, Sherlock rushed over and peered through the peephole. He could only see the top of a small hat.
“Who is it?” sherlock shouted through the door, wiping his face clean.
“Wiggins sent me.” the voice was small, probably belong to someone of about the age of ten.
Sherlock opened the door and the young girl handed him an envelope that contained an sd card and a letter.Sherlock gave her a few dollars for her time and rushed to a computer where he entered the sd card.
Dear Mr. Holmes
I think I may have found your friend. But it was hard for me to be sure. What with the state she looked to be in. I took a couple of pictures with my phone and pocketed the sd card before these two guys jumped me. they smashed my phone other wise I would have texted them to you. I took these over by fresh creek park.
Wiggins
The pictures showed of a dirty man with army boots trench coat and his arm in a sling along with stitches going up the side of his swollen face. He had his arm around an equally dirty shorter person. they were wearing an old beat up hoodie that was about three times to big for them and old baggy cargo pants. their shoes also seem to be too large for their tiny owner. The short person's hair was matted and sweat made it stick to their face so it was to hard to see the details. But those cheekbones could be recognized anywhere. That dirty bum was his Watson.
His heart pounded with fury as he raced to get his shoes on. He started to call detective Bell when there was another knock at the door. though this knock was just one hard loud clack as though whomever was the perpetrator of the knock had thrown a rock at the door instead of using their fist.
Sherlock yanked the door opened to have Watson slumped over on his stoop. Along with the thick stench of heroin.