Katie Holmes

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

William tapped his foot outside, calling Lestrade. "Have you seen Kaitlyn? She left about two hours ago and we haven't heard from her."

"No. Might check with Molly though."

"I've tried. She's been at home all night sick with the flu."

"Oh. I'll arrange a search party."

William hesitated. "I don't think that's necessary yet. If I don't call back in another few hours though, go ahead."

There was a pause. "What's Sherlock think about this?"

"Well he hasn't spoken since she left, so I don't know. And I'd be clueless to guess."

Sherlock was sitting with his hands clenched around the arms of his chair, a fixated look on his face. But his finger was tapping, clicking through things in his mind palace. He'd sent William outside while he thought. And thought. And tried to think. And saw flashes of things he couldn't care about then.

Kaitlyn speaking first at her mother's insistence. She was two, and her mother had said firmly, "I know you can talk, Kaitlyn." Kaitlyn had replied just as firmly, "Then why force me to do it?"

Kaitlyn on her first sled, deducing everything about it down to the forest the wood was cut from.

Kaitlyn seeing her first corpse at seven (while John was against it), deducing as perfectly as a child could.

Her first nightmares. The screaming, shouts for Sherlock to help her. She'd had to sleep with him for a week to keep him from having heart attacks every night.

Kaitlyn coming home from the lab at Bart's Hospital, excited to share what Molly had taught her, playing the violin as she spoke.

Every time Sherlock tried to focus on Moriarty, he saw more and more memories of his daughter.

Finally her explosion at him. He cringed. All he had wanted was to keep her safe.

Safe. His eyes popped open. How long had it been? A clock check showed two hours and fifty-seven minutes. She'd gotten mad before, and had always come home within the hour.

"William! Call John and tell him to meet us at Scotland Yard!" Sherlock shouted out the window.

William nodded and began walking back inside.

Sherlock paced the living room.

Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn!

Why couldn't he stop thinking about her?! He needed to focus on Moriarty to make sure she stayed safe, and worrying about her wasn't going to help anything.

But she'd never accused him of sluffing her off before. Because he never had. He valued her opinion as much as he did his own; it was just as valuable and logically correct. He had to keep her safe though. If that meant sidelining her, so be it.

The betrayal in her eyes made him mentally cringe. The fear, disgust. It was the same look most people gave him-right before they called him a freak. She had wanted to, he knew that. But she never would. She was too good for that.

Focus! Focus! What good would worrying do? He needed to focus!

William came in to Sherlock ripping his hair out and pacing across the table and couch. "I've done something wrong. Katie's upset with me."

"Of course she is."

"You know her well. What do you think I should do?"

"Find her first. I told Lestrade to keep off on the search party in case she was just taking a stroll. Dad's on his way over."

Sherlock nodded. "Good. You have tried calling her?"

"Duh. I'm not a complete moron."

"Never said you were."

And there was silence until John arrived. "What happened? I heard Kaitlyn left. You were supposed to be with her, William Scott."

William held his ground. "She was mad at me. I thought she was just stepping outside for a minute."

"She left because she was mad at you? Then why'd he let her go?" He gestured to Sherlock.

"She was mostly cross with me," Sherlock admitted. "She's never been gone over an hour without telling me where she'd be."

"And now she isn't answering. Great job. Whatever you did, you screwed up."

"I know, John. Just help me focus. We need to find Moriarty before sunset."

John nodded and began working, but William frowned. "Why sunset?"

"Because that's ten days exactly since we read the card."

"But wouldn't it be since he planted the card? Ten days to the second probably, since he planted it? When was that?"

Sherlock slowly turned to stare at him. "An hour and twenty minutes ago."

~

Kaitlyn didn't move. It wouldn't make any difference. He would've tied her properly and kept a guard at the door.

Cringing at the dank rotting smell, she tried to look around and figure out where she was. Her head was still banging from the drug he'd used to knock her out.

How long had she been out? She guessed about three hours by the amount she'd inhaled and how her head still hurt.

The door in the corner opened. "You're awake." He sounded surprised. "Unusual. Normally people are out for a day or more."

"I'm not a normal person." She didn't have to divulge that she'd basically built up an immunity to most drugs, since there had been some still laying around the flat. Small amounts over long periods of time while Sherlock was in his mind palace had made her not addicted, but immune.

"Apparently." He crouched in front of her and reached out. Kaitlyn glowered at him.

"Do not touch me."

He grabbed her chin forcefully and turned her head to the side. "Tsk, tsk, Kaitlyn. What happened here?" He took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her cheek.

"Someone hit me." She could feel where the blood had dried, and where the bruise was forming. Both pointed toward a fist. "I hope for your sake it wasn't you."

"Not yet. I'll let Sherlock stir for a bit longer. I need to show him that you're alright. Being mad with worry won't move anything along."

"Worry?" She laughed. "You don't know my father. He doesn't worry about me beyond desiring my safety. I've been shot before, Moriarty, and he didn't visit me in the hospital. Sherlock wants my mind, not me."

He laughed, putting the handkerchief away. "Then sweetheart, you don't know him either."

Once adjusting the lighting, he kneeled behind Kaitlyn's chair. "Turn your bad cheek away from the camera." She almost directly disobeyed, but didn't want William to think she was being abused already, so complied. Every fiber of her being was fighting against the motion.

"Good evening, Sherl. Hope you don't mind, but I've got little Katie here with me. She's been talking, and it isn't nice stuff." Kaitlyn closed her eyes and her jaw worked. "Let's have a little fun, now that I've kidnapped your queen. You're the pawn; just as you've always been. Time to dance."

Then he left her, her eyes burning. What was he going to do with her dad?