[Fic] Come Out (Wherever You Are): Chapter 5 - Calendar (bigbang_mixup, Sherlock (BBC))
Title: Come Out (Wherever You Are)
Chapter Title: Calendar
Rating: PG-13
Chapter Word Count: 2,186
Overall Word Count: 13,103
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for all of Sherlock.
Summary: John Watson is attempting to get on with his life until life is turned upside down - being kidnapped, being tortured - but the light at the end of the tunnel is worth it.
Author's Note: I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters.
Put another X on the calendar
Summer's on its deathbed
There is simply nothing worse
Than knowing how it ends
John woke up with a jolt when cold water was poured over his head. He tried to keep his breath short, so they couldn’t hear his fear, as he looked around at the room that he was in. It was dark, save for the spot of light that he was in. He was tied to a chair, which he wasn’t shocked about, and he looked around to figure out who else was in the room. He couldn’t see Moriarty, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t in the room watching. He turned his attention to the man who sat down in front of him - a tall, Afghan man who fit all the physical stereotypes.
“Doctor Watson.”
John closed his eyes and tried to think of the man’s name. His mind felt so muddled, like he was trying to look through cloudy water. The silence of the room helped him in focusing and getting the name that he wanted. “Mister Keleft.”
Keleft smiled. “I am glad that you remember me.”
“Well, it’s not every day that I got to meet a man who survived a bomb blast with no wounds at all,” John replied. “At least, I don’t think you - no, there was something with your eye.”
“Bit of something hit my eye and left a scar, nothing worse.”
“Considering it could have hit the eye and left you without it,” John said. “Where’s Moriarty?”
“Around.”
“Keleft, you don’t want to do this,” John said. “There’s nothing I can really do for you. It also doesn’t help that I still feel completely drugged, save for being able to talk and probably move.” He looked around again, thinking he saw something in the corner, before turning his attention back to the man in front of him who was moving.
“There’s only one thing I want to talk to you about and you don’t need to move for it.”
“And what is that?” John asked.
“Where’s my wife?”
John blinked. He did remember Keleft’s wife, if only because she was breathtakingly beautiful, as long as there weren’t any bruises on her. He found her once with a black eye and a big bruise on the cheek, giving her something for the eye and asking what happened before he was told by others in his unit that he shouldn’t be asking. After that first time, she started to seek him out and talked to him. About how she never did anything wrong, but that her husband’s temper got the better of him, with no better evidence when she came in with Keleft and her children when the youngest had a spiral fracture. Of course, Keleft was calm and nice back then.
“I asked you a question.”
“I know,” John said. “I don’t know where your wife is.”
Keleft nodded as he got up. He went over to a table, looking over what was on it. “She was a good woman until you and the rest came into our home.”
“Those were the orders from my superiors. I just did my job, as a soldier and as a doctor. I set your son’s arm when nobody else would be able to, not without a lot of questions. You knew how the other doctors hated kids being hurt, so you were happy when she mentioned me.” John swallowed as he saw Keleft turn with a metal bar in his hands. “And that’s not going to help.”
“It will because you are lying,” Keleft said as he moved over to John. He swung the metal bar hard against John’s leg.
John cried out as he felt the bone clearly break. He was going to make a mental contract not to cry out, but the action happened too quickly for him to think of anything.
“Where is she?!” Keleft asked.
“I don’t know!” John replied. He tried to take a deep breath instead of the gasps that he was doing instead. “She took the kids, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Keleft said. “She had no right to do that. According to our traditions, the children are mine, not hers!”
“In our word, children belong to the mother,” John said quietly. “At least, as long as it is best for the child. But nine times out of ten, that is what happened. I really don’t know where your wife is or your children. If I did, I would have told you right after you broke my leg.”
Keleft thought about that for a moment before putting down the metal bar.
John breathed a sigh of relief before his hand was taken and twisted the way that it was not meant to go. He heard the bone pop and felt it go out of place from the way that it should be. He managed not to cry out in pain this time, but it was bloody hard. “I don’t know!”
“But you know something! You know something or he would not have brought you here to me!”
John looked up at Keleft and debated what he was going to say next. Mostly because, if Moriarty clearly wasn’t here, he was going to die due to a snapped neck. On the other hand, he did tell her not to stay there too long and to never tell anyone where she was going to go afterwards. There was also the plus that the center closed down three months ago. “I sent her to the East End. There’s a friend of mine there, near Christ Church, that takes in battered women.”
Keleft put his hands up on John’s shoulders but there was a sound from behind them that made Keleft move his hands down to John’s hand. He popped the bone back into place. “Might not want to use that for a while, Doctor.”
Moriarty walked back over to them. “Good enough?”
“Yes,” Keleft said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Other way around, Keleft,” Moriarty said and looked at John. He moved over to the table, grabbing a bottle of something and putting some of it on a rag. He moved back over to John, chloroforming John and making sure that the doctor went back into unconsciousness.
*~*~*~*
Sherlock looked down at the body in the morgue. They had a name, place of work, and all of the little bit of information they needed. It turned out that the man was trying to pay off debts and the Russian mob gave the debt to Moriarty when he paid for it. Sherlock figured that out by the fact that the hands showed signs of healing - a punishment for gambling - and that the death was by a very nasty combination of chemicals. He didn’t want to think that would have happened if John hadn’t tried to escape. He had also pointed out that, due to the man’s hands and where the fingerprints were on the cane, that this would be their man for the start of the kidnapping. He looked over as the door to the morgue opened and it was Irene standing there. “Am I needed?”
“Not yet,” Irene said. She crossed over to Sherlock and looked down at the man. “I’m happy that’s not John.”
“You’re not the only one.” He sighed. “How do I tell him? When I see him again?”
“As I told you the first time, you already have the words for that,” she said. “What I think that you really need to do is show through your deeds than speak with your mouth.”
“Hrm.”
“What?” she asked.
“I already thought about doing that and it was the best course of action.”
“Then why were you asking me?” she asked.
“I wanted confirmation.” He looked to the cell phone as it buzzed. “Do you fancy a walk?”
“What did he text you?”
“An address,” he replied as he grabbed his coat and scarf. “You don’t want to come with?”
“No, I do. I’m just wondering how you’re going to get out of here without anyone noticing.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” He went out the door, turning down a hallway and went through what seemed like a maze of them before reaching a door. He took a card out of his pocket and swiped it, smiling as it beeped and the door opened for them. “I knew they wouldn’t turn off her key card for a while.”
“Whose key card is that?” She asked as she followed him out of the building and down an alley to the main street.
“Former Sergeant Donovan,” he replied. “She didn’t need it anymore, so I thought I would have it for a while.”
“Good move,” she said and hailed a taxi for them.
He opened the door for her when one stopped for them. She got in, moving over so he could get in as well. He gave the address to the driver and sat back in the seat. He took out a pair of gloves and gave them to Irene. “We’re going to the man’s home address.”
“Wouldn’t they have gone there already?”
“No,” he said. “For one, there was no connection from his work address to anywhere he lived. His address said that he was out in the Thames. However, I texted what was used on him to our boss for the moment and he gave me this address.”
“Sherlock?”
“What?” he answered. “Yes, I thought of that. No, I don’t care. I want clues and they’re being given out too slowly.”
“So you’re walking into a trap to get more knowledge.”
“Yes,” he said. “Still want to come?”
“Yes.”
He raised an eyebrow at hearing that.
“You work better when you have someone with you, admit it.”
He sighed and looked out the window. “No.”
“No you’re not going to admit it or no you don’t?”
“First one,” he said. “Can we not get into this now?”
“Of course,” she said and was quiet for about five minutes. “What do you think we’re going to fine?”
“I don’t know, which is why quiet would be best, so I can focus when we get there,” he said.
She nodded and was quiet for the rest of the trip. When the taxi came to a stop in front of a rundown building, she let him pay and got out with him. “Is this what you expected to find?”
“Yes,” he said as he walked up to the door and looked at the buzzer names. “Top flat.” He tried the door, not surprised when it opened, and let himself and Irene in. The two of them went up the stairs to the third floor, the top floor, and saw there was only one door on the level.
“Must be a big flat. Terrible thing about the neighborhood,” she said.
He was quiet and tried the door. He got out his lock picking tools, kneeling down and unlocking the door in just a few minutes. He got up when it opened into the apartment and went in, turning on a light as he did so. He looked to Irene, who put on the gloves. He could see she was about to ask about his when he held up his hands, which already had gloves on them.
The flat was a nice one, with a sizeable living room, a nice kitchen, and then a couple of bedrooms. He went into what looked like the most used bedroom and noticed the curtains were open. “That’s - “ he quickly ducked and a bullet hit the wall behind him. “Irene! Get out!” He crawled along the floor until he was out of sight and ignored his ringing cell phone. He got out of the apartment and looked around for Irene. His cell phone rang for the second time and he picked it up. “What?”
“Come across the street,” Irene replied.
“On my way,” he said and hung up the phone. He made his way across the street, where she was holding a man against the wall with most of her body. “Thank you. Even though I’m not sure how you saw that before me.”
“I’m not emotionally tied to the case. He said that he’s not saying anything.”
“I’m not,” the man said.
Sherlock looked over the man. He took one of the man’s hands and looked it over. “You’re a sailor.”
“I try to be, sometimes,” the man said.
“Place we’re looking for next is down by the docks,” he said as he called in to Lestrade. He was treated to a lecture when Lestrade actually got there but he was okay with that. When Lestrade left Sherlock to do something, Irene came over to him. “Your brother wanted me to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Moriarty is using John against Mycroft to get a clean slate,” she said.
He thought about that for a moment and nodded. “Makes sense to me. Are you coming with us to the docks?”
“Wouldn’t think of not doing so,” she replied. They waited a bit longer for Lestrade to finish up sealing off the area and left with him to the docks.
Chapter Title: Calendar
Rating: PG-13
Chapter Word Count: 2,186
Overall Word Count: 13,103
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for all of Sherlock.
Summary: John Watson is attempting to get on with his life until life is turned upside down - being kidnapped, being tortured - but the light at the end of the tunnel is worth it.
Author's Note: I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters.
Put another X on the calendar
Summer's on its deathbed
There is simply nothing worse
Than knowing how it ends
John woke up with a jolt when cold water was poured over his head. He tried to keep his breath short, so they couldn’t hear his fear, as he looked around at the room that he was in. It was dark, save for the spot of light that he was in. He was tied to a chair, which he wasn’t shocked about, and he looked around to figure out who else was in the room. He couldn’t see Moriarty, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t in the room watching. He turned his attention to the man who sat down in front of him - a tall, Afghan man who fit all the physical stereotypes.
“Doctor Watson.”
John closed his eyes and tried to think of the man’s name. His mind felt so muddled, like he was trying to look through cloudy water. The silence of the room helped him in focusing and getting the name that he wanted. “Mister Keleft.”
Keleft smiled. “I am glad that you remember me.”
“Well, it’s not every day that I got to meet a man who survived a bomb blast with no wounds at all,” John replied. “At least, I don’t think you - no, there was something with your eye.”
“Bit of something hit my eye and left a scar, nothing worse.”
“Considering it could have hit the eye and left you without it,” John said. “Where’s Moriarty?”
“Around.”
“Keleft, you don’t want to do this,” John said. “There’s nothing I can really do for you. It also doesn’t help that I still feel completely drugged, save for being able to talk and probably move.” He looked around again, thinking he saw something in the corner, before turning his attention back to the man in front of him who was moving.
“There’s only one thing I want to talk to you about and you don’t need to move for it.”
“And what is that?” John asked.
“Where’s my wife?”
John blinked. He did remember Keleft’s wife, if only because she was breathtakingly beautiful, as long as there weren’t any bruises on her. He found her once with a black eye and a big bruise on the cheek, giving her something for the eye and asking what happened before he was told by others in his unit that he shouldn’t be asking. After that first time, she started to seek him out and talked to him. About how she never did anything wrong, but that her husband’s temper got the better of him, with no better evidence when she came in with Keleft and her children when the youngest had a spiral fracture. Of course, Keleft was calm and nice back then.
“I asked you a question.”
“I know,” John said. “I don’t know where your wife is.”
Keleft nodded as he got up. He went over to a table, looking over what was on it. “She was a good woman until you and the rest came into our home.”
“Those were the orders from my superiors. I just did my job, as a soldier and as a doctor. I set your son’s arm when nobody else would be able to, not without a lot of questions. You knew how the other doctors hated kids being hurt, so you were happy when she mentioned me.” John swallowed as he saw Keleft turn with a metal bar in his hands. “And that’s not going to help.”
“It will because you are lying,” Keleft said as he moved over to John. He swung the metal bar hard against John’s leg.
John cried out as he felt the bone clearly break. He was going to make a mental contract not to cry out, but the action happened too quickly for him to think of anything.
“Where is she?!” Keleft asked.
“I don’t know!” John replied. He tried to take a deep breath instead of the gasps that he was doing instead. “She took the kids, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Keleft said. “She had no right to do that. According to our traditions, the children are mine, not hers!”
“In our word, children belong to the mother,” John said quietly. “At least, as long as it is best for the child. But nine times out of ten, that is what happened. I really don’t know where your wife is or your children. If I did, I would have told you right after you broke my leg.”
Keleft thought about that for a moment before putting down the metal bar.
John breathed a sigh of relief before his hand was taken and twisted the way that it was not meant to go. He heard the bone pop and felt it go out of place from the way that it should be. He managed not to cry out in pain this time, but it was bloody hard. “I don’t know!”
“But you know something! You know something or he would not have brought you here to me!”
John looked up at Keleft and debated what he was going to say next. Mostly because, if Moriarty clearly wasn’t here, he was going to die due to a snapped neck. On the other hand, he did tell her not to stay there too long and to never tell anyone where she was going to go afterwards. There was also the plus that the center closed down three months ago. “I sent her to the East End. There’s a friend of mine there, near Christ Church, that takes in battered women.”
Keleft put his hands up on John’s shoulders but there was a sound from behind them that made Keleft move his hands down to John’s hand. He popped the bone back into place. “Might not want to use that for a while, Doctor.”
Moriarty walked back over to them. “Good enough?”
“Yes,” Keleft said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Other way around, Keleft,” Moriarty said and looked at John. He moved over to the table, grabbing a bottle of something and putting some of it on a rag. He moved back over to John, chloroforming John and making sure that the doctor went back into unconsciousness.
*~*~*~*
Sherlock looked down at the body in the morgue. They had a name, place of work, and all of the little bit of information they needed. It turned out that the man was trying to pay off debts and the Russian mob gave the debt to Moriarty when he paid for it. Sherlock figured that out by the fact that the hands showed signs of healing - a punishment for gambling - and that the death was by a very nasty combination of chemicals. He didn’t want to think that would have happened if John hadn’t tried to escape. He had also pointed out that, due to the man’s hands and where the fingerprints were on the cane, that this would be their man for the start of the kidnapping. He looked over as the door to the morgue opened and it was Irene standing there. “Am I needed?”
“Not yet,” Irene said. She crossed over to Sherlock and looked down at the man. “I’m happy that’s not John.”
“You’re not the only one.” He sighed. “How do I tell him? When I see him again?”
“As I told you the first time, you already have the words for that,” she said. “What I think that you really need to do is show through your deeds than speak with your mouth.”
“Hrm.”
“What?” she asked.
“I already thought about doing that and it was the best course of action.”
“Then why were you asking me?” she asked.
“I wanted confirmation.” He looked to the cell phone as it buzzed. “Do you fancy a walk?”
“What did he text you?”
“An address,” he replied as he grabbed his coat and scarf. “You don’t want to come with?”
“No, I do. I’m just wondering how you’re going to get out of here without anyone noticing.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” He went out the door, turning down a hallway and went through what seemed like a maze of them before reaching a door. He took a card out of his pocket and swiped it, smiling as it beeped and the door opened for them. “I knew they wouldn’t turn off her key card for a while.”
“Whose key card is that?” She asked as she followed him out of the building and down an alley to the main street.
“Former Sergeant Donovan,” he replied. “She didn’t need it anymore, so I thought I would have it for a while.”
“Good move,” she said and hailed a taxi for them.
He opened the door for her when one stopped for them. She got in, moving over so he could get in as well. He gave the address to the driver and sat back in the seat. He took out a pair of gloves and gave them to Irene. “We’re going to the man’s home address.”
“Wouldn’t they have gone there already?”
“No,” he said. “For one, there was no connection from his work address to anywhere he lived. His address said that he was out in the Thames. However, I texted what was used on him to our boss for the moment and he gave me this address.”
“Sherlock?”
“What?” he answered. “Yes, I thought of that. No, I don’t care. I want clues and they’re being given out too slowly.”
“So you’re walking into a trap to get more knowledge.”
“Yes,” he said. “Still want to come?”
“Yes.”
He raised an eyebrow at hearing that.
“You work better when you have someone with you, admit it.”
He sighed and looked out the window. “No.”
“No you’re not going to admit it or no you don’t?”
“First one,” he said. “Can we not get into this now?”
“Of course,” she said and was quiet for about five minutes. “What do you think we’re going to fine?”
“I don’t know, which is why quiet would be best, so I can focus when we get there,” he said.
She nodded and was quiet for the rest of the trip. When the taxi came to a stop in front of a rundown building, she let him pay and got out with him. “Is this what you expected to find?”
“Yes,” he said as he walked up to the door and looked at the buzzer names. “Top flat.” He tried the door, not surprised when it opened, and let himself and Irene in. The two of them went up the stairs to the third floor, the top floor, and saw there was only one door on the level.
“Must be a big flat. Terrible thing about the neighborhood,” she said.
He was quiet and tried the door. He got out his lock picking tools, kneeling down and unlocking the door in just a few minutes. He got up when it opened into the apartment and went in, turning on a light as he did so. He looked to Irene, who put on the gloves. He could see she was about to ask about his when he held up his hands, which already had gloves on them.
The flat was a nice one, with a sizeable living room, a nice kitchen, and then a couple of bedrooms. He went into what looked like the most used bedroom and noticed the curtains were open. “That’s - “ he quickly ducked and a bullet hit the wall behind him. “Irene! Get out!” He crawled along the floor until he was out of sight and ignored his ringing cell phone. He got out of the apartment and looked around for Irene. His cell phone rang for the second time and he picked it up. “What?”
“Come across the street,” Irene replied.
“On my way,” he said and hung up the phone. He made his way across the street, where she was holding a man against the wall with most of her body. “Thank you. Even though I’m not sure how you saw that before me.”
“I’m not emotionally tied to the case. He said that he’s not saying anything.”
“I’m not,” the man said.
Sherlock looked over the man. He took one of the man’s hands and looked it over. “You’re a sailor.”
“I try to be, sometimes,” the man said.
“Place we’re looking for next is down by the docks,” he said as he called in to Lestrade. He was treated to a lecture when Lestrade actually got there but he was okay with that. When Lestrade left Sherlock to do something, Irene came over to him. “Your brother wanted me to tell you something.”
“What?”
“Moriarty is using John against Mycroft to get a clean slate,” she said.
He thought about that for a moment and nodded. “Makes sense to me. Are you coming with us to the docks?”
“Wouldn’t think of not doing so,” she replied. They waited a bit longer for Lestrade to finish up sealing off the area and left with him to the docks.