Little Consulting Detective

6

Sherlock was losing track of how long he's been at Moriarty hideout. The e criminal was so good at keeping him on a sleep schedule that even when he was awake, he was out of it. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to think he wouldn't escape ever.

"Good morning, Sherlock. How's my baby doing today?" Moriarty cooed when he walked into the nursery. He picked Sherlock up and patted his back as he laid him on the changing table. Sherlock started squirming and whining behind his dummy. He didn't need a nappy change, did he.

"Calm down, little one. You need a change. Daddy will be done in a minute." Moriarty soothed. Sherlock frowned but let the criminal change him. He hadn't felt himself lose control of his bladder, but he didn't know he wet himself. This was getting serious.

When Sherlock was in a fresh nappy and onesie, Moriarty picked him up and carried him downstairs for breakfast.

"We're gonna try something new today, little one." The criminal cooed, walking to the cabinet. He pulled out a jar of baby food and carried it over to the high chair. The label read "sweet potatoes and pears", so it wouldn't be too bad, right?

Moriarty tied a bib around sherlocks neck and grabbed a baby spoon before opening the jar and feeding Sherlock the first bite. It wasn't a strong flavor, but Sherlock was hungry, so he ate it. Moriarty smiled and cooed at Sherlock, pleased that his baby was eating.

When breakfast was over, Moriarty wiped sherlock's face off with the bib and picked him up, carrying him into the living room. The criminal laid the detective on his playmat and went to make a cup of tea.

Sherlock looked up and watched as Moriarty walked about the kitchen, too busy to watch over him. Sherlock sat up and quietly got to his feet before falling on his padded bum. He winced and his lip trembled. It seemed to have been a while since he's walked. His only options were to crawl or do nothing, but both of those were a lose for him. He pouted and laid back down, cursing in his head.

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Mycroft was sat with John in 221B, his face buried in his hands. John patted his shoulder reassuringly, but knowing perfectly well how Mycroft felt.

"It's been a week already, John, and we've no idea where Sherlock is. What shall we do?" Mycroft muttered, having issues keeping his composure.

"I don't know. Sherlock's clever, for sure... but he's not especially good with keeping his mouth shut, is he? Depending on where he is, that could end very badly for him." John said. Mycroft nodded grimly.

"Little brother, how much trouble are you in?" Mycroft asked softly, watching out the window as dark clouds rolled in, the makings of a nasty storm under way.

The two men sat in silence for a moment before their phones pinged, a text alert making itself known.

"My god..." John said under his breath, looking at his phone. He was horrified at the picture that greeted him. It was Sherlock, unconscious and pale. The room was too dark to make out any small details, but John could've sworn he saw bars...

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Moriarty was getting Sherlock ready for his nap when a loud crackle of thunder struck. Sherlock flinched and gripped moriarty's arm. Moriarty looked down at the detective and smoother out his hair.

"It's okay kiddo, it's just thunder." Moriarty said, picking Sherlock up. He carried him to his crib and put him down when another clap of thunder came. Sherlock screamed and started sobbing, making grabby hands at Moriarty. The criminal picked him back up and carried him to the rocking chair, sitting down and cradling Sherlock.

Sherlock was inconsolable, shaking and gripping moriarty's shirt like his life depended on it. Moriarty rocked and shushed him, rubbing his back soothingly. "Don't worry Sherlock, daddy will keep you safe. You're okay, little one." Moriarty cooed, trying to keep Sherlock calm.

After a few minutes, Sherlock finally stopped crying, and he leaned against Moriarty. "See? You're perfectly safe." The criminal soothed, wiping the tears off sherlock's cheeks. The detective cuddled against him. Moriarty popped a soother in his mouth and sherlock's eyes started to droop. Moriarty stood up and went to  put Sherlock down, but the detective fussed.

"Daddy." He called out, reaching out for Moriarty. The criminal hugged him tightly and kissed his head.

"Alright baby boy, daddy won't put you down. I know, that was so scary, wasn't it?" Moriarty said. He brought Sherlock into the master bedroom and sat down in his armchair, cradling Sherlock. The detective smiled and closed his eyes, knowing he was safe with his daddy.