John Watson the slave, Sherlock Holmes the master.

Chapter 4

When we arrived back at the apartment the first thing Sherlock did was go and lie down on the sofa hands together under his chin in his thinking position; at least that is what I assumed it was considering that he does it all the time. He didn't give me any orders so I started cleaning, not that there was much to clean, knowing the other option was to kneel on the floor next to Sherlock.

The whole time I couldn't get the murder off my mind, I got so distracted by it that I lost track of time, the only thing that snapped me out of my thoughts was Sherlock's voice from the sofa.

"I won't be having dinner so feel free to get yourself something." Sherlock said.

I looked over at him, his eyes were still shut and it looked like he hadn't moved. I looked over at the clock and was taken aback by the time. It was already 8 o'clock, why won't Sherlock eat? In the end I decided it wasn't my place to ask and went into the kitchen to make myself some food but before I could Sherlock's phone went of. I turned to look at Sherlock who hadn't moved.

"John, my phone." Sherlock demanded.

I looked around, "Where..."

"My pocket," Sherlock said without moving. Sighing I walked over, got it out his breast pocket and put it in his hand.

"Molly," Sherlock said answering the phone, "Okay I will be right there," then he hung up the phone. He stood up and grabbed his coat, "John, come with me."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

We arrived at Bart's about 10 minuets later.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"John, pain setting 1," Sherlock said looking at me annoyed.

I wasn't expecting the pain so when it hit me it almost knocked me off my feet. I doubled over in pain as it consumed my every thought. My head in my hands I tried to control it remembering my military training. Deep breaths and I tried to think of Harry, I was doing this for Harry.

"Pain off," I heard Sherlock say before the torture stopped. I stood up straight but kept my head down, I couldn't stop shaking. I can't believe I let that happen, I had actually started to believe Sherlock was my friend.

"You keep forgetting the rules John, don't do it again. Follow me." He said emotionless.

"Yes Master," I quietly replied chastised then followed him inside.

We walked along a few corridors then entered a mortuary where a short mousy haired woman was stood next to the body of Jeffrey Carmichael.

"Hello Sherlock," She said smiling walking over to us, "How are you?" She asked but didn't get a reply.

"What have you found out Molly?" Sherlock asked blanking her completely. Molly looked slightly upset but walked back over to the body.

"It was the knife that killed him but I ran a few tests anyway and they show he was unconscious when he was killed, there wasn't as much blood loss as there should have been so I looked to see what he had eaten or drank and found nothing so I checked around his face. I found traces of chloroform around his mouth and nose which would explain why this wound made by the knife is very clean, there wasn't any fight because our victim was unconscious. Oh and I worked out the time of death was at about 12 o'clock, give or take an hour."

"Thank you Molly, do you mind if I run a few tests myself?" Sherlock asked but I knew it was rhetorical because Sherlock was already getting started.

"Sure," Molly said quietly. It was only then she seemed to notice me, "Hello, I'm Molly, are you a friend of Sherlock's or something?" She asked.

I looked to Sherlock unsure what to say but he seemed to be to preoccupied with his work to notice. In the end I decided on the truth seeing as Sherlock hadn't told me to hide my collar this time and Molly wasn't the police. I lifted my hand and pointed to my collar so it was unmistakable and looked at Molly to see her reaction.