Chapter Text
Sherlock insulted Anderson one last time on his way out of the Yard. Donovan just directed a disgusted look at him, before looking back at one of the kids she was comforting in her arms. She blamed it on him, that it took them two days to find the abducted twins. She accused him of not working hard enough, because apparently a simple abduction wasn’t interesting enough for a sociopath.
He silently entered Baker Street to avoid the inquisitive Mrs. Hudson. He couldn’t stand answering anyone just now. Upstairs he slumped on his chair, face in hand. Could he have done anything faster? Did he miss something, which would have saved the kids in a shorter amount of time? Donovan was right, he wasn’t at his best at this case. His mind didn’t seem to function correctly, when it were kids who were in danger. He loved kids, kids were honest and direct and curious about anything in life. Only when they get older they become boring, annoying and narrow minded adults. Why was it so fucking hard to do this right, he had done everything to find them as fast as possible. But it was never enough. He sighed, he really longed for a fix. What would it matter if he shoot up again? It’s not as if anybody would care. As he was thinking on where to get some drugs in the middle of the afternoon, the telephone rang.
“Dear Brother mine”
“What do you want Mycroft?”
“I know this look on your face. I’d like to recommend you to call the number I gave you last month. If you follow your previous intention I can assure you, this time rehab will not be so pleasant.”
Sherlock threw the phone at the wall. Fuck Mycroft and his bloody cams. Then after a short amount of rethinking his actions, he went over to the fireplace and picked up the card that lay besides the skull. He read the name on the card again. “John Watson”, could anybody think of a more common and more boring name? Despite his thoughts he called the number on it.
Sherlock went up the stairs to the third floor, and stood in front of a wooden door. After ringing, he heard a few steps, before the door was opened. John Watson was nothing like he expected. He was short for a man with a compact build and dirty blond hair. But it was mainly the jumper, the beige jumper of an old men, which seemed to be at odds with his profession. Why the hell was Mycroft sending him to this man, was this a joke at his costs?
“Hello, you have to be Sherlock. Please come in. Do you want a cup of tea?” Sherlock entered the flat, and looked around suspiciously. A short nod of Sherlock and the man went to the kitchen where a pot was already prepared. While sipping his cup of tea, Sherlock observed the man, who had sat down in an opposite chair. Ohhh, probably I have to correct some of my first impressions, there is a hidden strength in this man and yes, definitely something caring. How interesting. Sherlock grinned slightly. “You are a soldier and a doctor!” “Brilliant, just like your brother said” exclaimed John with an open smile on his face. Sherlocks head snapped up. That was going to be really interesting. “Have you ever done this before or visited one of my colleagues? “, asked John. Sherlock looked down at his hands and spoke silently: “No”. “Okay, then let’s start with what we discussed over the phone. Should you become uncomfortable with anything, safeword me. If you tell me `Vatican cameos`, I will stop immediately. Are you Ok with that?” “Yes”, answered Sherlock quietly.