Lost and Found 3/10
Summary: AU. Sherlock and John were childhood friends, and as they got older they only got closer. They got engaged just before John went to Afghanistan, still having joined the army to cover med school. Sherlock is still a consulting detective. John is declared MIA, but it becomes clear that that there's more going on than that when Sherlock gets a message in the form of a dead body. Major John!Whumpage, but no character death.
Warnings: Rated T because there's no sex, but there are torture themes, kidnapping, Moriarty (obvs), etc. Nothing you haven't seen before i'm sure but should be mentioned. Also apologies for very unimaginative title.
Pairing: Sherlock/John and a bit of Mystrade pre-slash later on.
Length: ~12'000 in total
Rating: T
Previous Chapter
As soon as he got home he added another nicotine patch. He didn't even want to think about what John would say to him if he saw him with five patches... but John wasn't here. Which made it a five patch problem. He could already feel his hands starting to shake from the excess nicotine.
He texted Mycroft; 'What do you know?' The reply he got simply said that this person seems to be trying to get to him personally he probably operates mainly in Britain, so that's probably where John is at the moment, though he hadn't yet found any evidence of any unauthorised planes or other modes of transport in the area at the time of the disappearance. Sherlock agreed with this but ignored any more texts. Useless. He already knew all of that.
Sherlock was on the sofa for he didn't know how long, simply trying to figure out who had John. Along with the fact that there had never been any clear link shared between all of the crimes, he has only ever solved two crimes by the same person, and solved them he has, with the criminal now rotting in jail, which supported the view that whoever he had aggravated was not personally involved, merely directing the crimes; but he was still spoiling their business.
He thought briefly that perhaps he should tell Lestrade, but he would only slow things down with his 'proper channels.' If Mycroft hadn't told him already.
As if he heard Sherlock thinking about him, Lestrade stomped up the stairs and into the flat, followed moments later by what seemed like an army of 'very keen' police. He hadn't even heard them coming up the stairs.
"There's no point Lestrade. I don't have any evidence, but I do know-"
"Sir!" Donovan calls from the desk where he'd left his laptop open. 'Damn.'
"He's got an email from John Watson. Dated last Friday." She was looking at Lestrade but he knew that she was thinking about him again. No doubt she thought the reason he had acted strange this afternoon was because it was his murder.
"You knew the victim?" Lestrade asked in surprise as he made his way over to look at the email.
"Of course I don't!" He threw them a disgusted look. "It' a... different John Watson."
"Why's he emailing you? Telling you when he's getting back? Don't tell me you actually have a friend!" Anderson called incredulously.
"Not exactly." Seeing Anderson's answering smirk he added; "He's my fiance." That should shut him up for a bit.
Several mouths are hung wide open at that, but it was Lestrade who eventually managed to choke out a reply.
"You- you... you're engaged? But- We all thought... asexual... never had sex... You've never shown the slightest interest in anyone the whole time we've known you. Nearly three years! Why have we never seen him? ...Is he real?"
"Of course he's real! He emailed me didn't he?" Out of exasperation he clarified; "Yes I have had sex, no I haven't looked at anyone since you've known me. I'm engaged you cretins, not 'playing the field.' Why would I be? You haven't seen him because two and a half years ago he was sent to Afghanistan. He's a soldier. RAMC."
"So you haven't seen him in three years? Christ how do you wait so long?" Anderson grumbled.
"Because he's John. Unlike I can wait, rather than jumping on the next thing I see just because my wife left for the weekend." Sherlock shot back.
"You were on drugs three years ago. Did he know?" Lestrade asked him incredulously.
"The drugs were only after he left. You don't even know what I had to do to stop Mycroft from telling him so if any of you even hint at it to him then I will personally destroy you." He glared at them each in turn to emphasise that he wasn't joking.
"You started taking A-class drugs just because your boyfriend left you?"
"He didn't leave me!" Sherlock was getting angry by then. It wasn't any of their business! He still didn't want people to think that John didn't love him though, though he refused to accept that it was due to the reflection of his own fears. "Since you read the email, you should know that he was COMING BACK." He spat at them.
"He went to a war zone to get away from you freak, why would he come back?"
Sherlock tried to keep his face expressionless, but couldn't quite manage it when the tracherous voice in his head whispered that John might not come back.
"Ha! So he has left you." Anderson said sardonically.
"He was reported MIA on Friday, he was supposed to be coming home soon."
The room went dead quiet. No one quite knew what to say to that. Even when it was Sherlock, you couldn't really make fun of him for that.
Eventually Sally tensed her jaw, decided to ignore the whole MIA thing and asked, "So you're telling us it's just coincidence that our Vic and your boyfriend have the same name?"
"No of course it isn't. Same approximate age, height, hair colour and build, and a nurse, when John is a doctor?
"It's obvious that someone is trying to send a message. To me. Personally. I've done something that they don't like and now John is suffering for it. Judging from the body you found I'm presuming that he has been shot in the shoulder. It's also very possible that that is not where it has ended." He didn't allow his voice to break on the last part.
"The mastermind behind this is a consulting criminal, and I've been solving all his crimes for you. A dangerous one, with the kind of resources that mean that he can kidnap a capable soldier from the middle of a war zone."
Again there was silence at this, they all looked pretty lost. It wasn't exactly hard to follow.
Suddenly, a young PC was bounding up the stairs holding a small, fat envelope.
"Sir, a man just dropped this off for him." He addressed Lestrade and pointed at Sherlock.
"Pass it to me. Who gave it to you?"
"I don't remember, he was a UPS guy."
Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes purely because he was now concentrating on the package in his hands. A UPS guy, really, that was all he could tell them? Even Donovan would have done better than that... perhaps.
A thick, hand made envelope. His name written down in expensive ink. Feminine handwriting. Feminine, but not a woman. There is nothing on the envelope with his address, and there was no outer envelope either, confirming his suspicions that it wasn't a real UPS employee, though he knew it would be pointless to question the PC anymore. He wouldn't be able to remember anything useful.
"It must be from them," he knew.
Having learned everything he could from the envelope he quickly tore it open and tipped the contents out onto his hand. It was an iphone. A pink iphone, like the one that belonged to that woman from the serial suicide case. Before the cabbie had been taken away by the police, Sherlock had managed to get a name out of him. He had been working with a man named Moriarty. That must be him. It had to be.
The phone suddenly began to ring. Instantly he pressed the green phone to answer the call, and at a look from Lestrade he turned it onto speaker phone.
"Moriarty." He says. It was an educated guess, but he made it sound like a fact.
Lestrade gave him another look but he didn't even notice, as that is the moment, when, staring intently at the phone, he heard the voice.
There is a a mocking tone to the words, but not in the voice. The voice sounded tired, sad, and pained.
"Ooh aren't you clever?"
"John."
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Next Chapter
Warnings: Rated T because there's no sex, but there are torture themes, kidnapping, Moriarty (obvs), etc. Nothing you haven't seen before i'm sure but should be mentioned. Also apologies for very unimaginative title.
Pairing: Sherlock/John and a bit of Mystrade pre-slash later on.
Length: ~12'000 in total
Rating: T
Previous Chapter
As soon as he got home he added another nicotine patch. He didn't even want to think about what John would say to him if he saw him with five patches... but John wasn't here. Which made it a five patch problem. He could already feel his hands starting to shake from the excess nicotine.
He texted Mycroft; 'What do you know?' The reply he got simply said that this person seems to be trying to get to him personally he probably operates mainly in Britain, so that's probably where John is at the moment, though he hadn't yet found any evidence of any unauthorised planes or other modes of transport in the area at the time of the disappearance. Sherlock agreed with this but ignored any more texts. Useless. He already knew all of that.
Sherlock was on the sofa for he didn't know how long, simply trying to figure out who had John. Along with the fact that there had never been any clear link shared between all of the crimes, he has only ever solved two crimes by the same person, and solved them he has, with the criminal now rotting in jail, which supported the view that whoever he had aggravated was not personally involved, merely directing the crimes; but he was still spoiling their business.
He thought briefly that perhaps he should tell Lestrade, but he would only slow things down with his 'proper channels.' If Mycroft hadn't told him already.
As if he heard Sherlock thinking about him, Lestrade stomped up the stairs and into the flat, followed moments later by what seemed like an army of 'very keen' police. He hadn't even heard them coming up the stairs.
"There's no point Lestrade. I don't have any evidence, but I do know-"
"Sir!" Donovan calls from the desk where he'd left his laptop open. 'Damn.'
"He's got an email from John Watson. Dated last Friday." She was looking at Lestrade but he knew that she was thinking about him again. No doubt she thought the reason he had acted strange this afternoon was because it was his murder.
"You knew the victim?" Lestrade asked in surprise as he made his way over to look at the email.
"Of course I don't!" He threw them a disgusted look. "It' a... different John Watson."
"Why's he emailing you? Telling you when he's getting back? Don't tell me you actually have a friend!" Anderson called incredulously.
"Not exactly." Seeing Anderson's answering smirk he added; "He's my fiance." That should shut him up for a bit.
Several mouths are hung wide open at that, but it was Lestrade who eventually managed to choke out a reply.
"You- you... you're engaged? But- We all thought... asexual... never had sex... You've never shown the slightest interest in anyone the whole time we've known you. Nearly three years! Why have we never seen him? ...Is he real?"
"Of course he's real! He emailed me didn't he?" Out of exasperation he clarified; "Yes I have had sex, no I haven't looked at anyone since you've known me. I'm engaged you cretins, not 'playing the field.' Why would I be? You haven't seen him because two and a half years ago he was sent to Afghanistan. He's a soldier. RAMC."
"So you haven't seen him in three years? Christ how do you wait so long?" Anderson grumbled.
"Because he's John. Unlike I can wait, rather than jumping on the next thing I see just because my wife left for the weekend." Sherlock shot back.
"You were on drugs three years ago. Did he know?" Lestrade asked him incredulously.
"The drugs were only after he left. You don't even know what I had to do to stop Mycroft from telling him so if any of you even hint at it to him then I will personally destroy you." He glared at them each in turn to emphasise that he wasn't joking.
"You started taking A-class drugs just because your boyfriend left you?"
"He didn't leave me!" Sherlock was getting angry by then. It wasn't any of their business! He still didn't want people to think that John didn't love him though, though he refused to accept that it was due to the reflection of his own fears. "Since you read the email, you should know that he was COMING BACK." He spat at them.
"He went to a war zone to get away from you freak, why would he come back?"
Sherlock tried to keep his face expressionless, but couldn't quite manage it when the tracherous voice in his head whispered that John might not come back.
"Ha! So he has left you." Anderson said sardonically.
"He was reported MIA on Friday, he was supposed to be coming home soon."
The room went dead quiet. No one quite knew what to say to that. Even when it was Sherlock, you couldn't really make fun of him for that.
Eventually Sally tensed her jaw, decided to ignore the whole MIA thing and asked, "So you're telling us it's just coincidence that our Vic and your boyfriend have the same name?"
"No of course it isn't. Same approximate age, height, hair colour and build, and a nurse, when John is a doctor?
"It's obvious that someone is trying to send a message. To me. Personally. I've done something that they don't like and now John is suffering for it. Judging from the body you found I'm presuming that he has been shot in the shoulder. It's also very possible that that is not where it has ended." He didn't allow his voice to break on the last part.
"The mastermind behind this is a consulting criminal, and I've been solving all his crimes for you. A dangerous one, with the kind of resources that mean that he can kidnap a capable soldier from the middle of a war zone."
Again there was silence at this, they all looked pretty lost. It wasn't exactly hard to follow.
Suddenly, a young PC was bounding up the stairs holding a small, fat envelope.
"Sir, a man just dropped this off for him." He addressed Lestrade and pointed at Sherlock.
"Pass it to me. Who gave it to you?"
"I don't remember, he was a UPS guy."
Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes purely because he was now concentrating on the package in his hands. A UPS guy, really, that was all he could tell them? Even Donovan would have done better than that... perhaps.
A thick, hand made envelope. His name written down in expensive ink. Feminine handwriting. Feminine, but not a woman. There is nothing on the envelope with his address, and there was no outer envelope either, confirming his suspicions that it wasn't a real UPS employee, though he knew it would be pointless to question the PC anymore. He wouldn't be able to remember anything useful.
"It must be from them," he knew.
Having learned everything he could from the envelope he quickly tore it open and tipped the contents out onto his hand. It was an iphone. A pink iphone, like the one that belonged to that woman from the serial suicide case. Before the cabbie had been taken away by the police, Sherlock had managed to get a name out of him. He had been working with a man named Moriarty. That must be him. It had to be.
The phone suddenly began to ring. Instantly he pressed the green phone to answer the call, and at a look from Lestrade he turned it onto speaker phone.
"Moriarty." He says. It was an educated guess, but he made it sound like a fact.
Lestrade gave him another look but he didn't even notice, as that is the moment, when, staring intently at the phone, he heard the voice.
There is a a mocking tone to the words, but not in the voice. The voice sounded tired, sad, and pained.
"Ooh aren't you clever?"
"John."
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Next Chapter