Consulting Detective and the Genius Orphan?

Chapter 10: The Start

Sherlock silently snatched the radio and started to make his way out of the hospital, knowing John would stay behind to make sure Molly was taken care of. He did his best to keep his mind clear as he got into a cab. Sherlock couldn't afford getting sidetracked by unnecessary emotional thoughts. Caring is not an advantage.

As Sherlock approached the flat nothing looked out of place. Even as he unlocked the front door and started to make his way up the stairs he didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

It wasn't until Sherlock was able to peer into his bedroom when he noticed that the flat had been visited. There was only one thing that told Sherlock that the flat had been broken in to and it wasn't the usual microscopic detail. The clue was something left on purpose, or someone really.

Laying unconscious in Sherlock's bed was little Amy.

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John tried to focus on what the doctor was saying about Molly, he really was. But his mind was elsewhere, or more specifically, with Amy. He felt terrible for letting Moriarty get to her. The girl was his responsibility and now she was at the hands of a criminal mastermind. Great job, Watson.

Finally Molly was one hundred percent settled. John wasn't going to stay at the hospital a moment longer.

John's mind was a blur the during the short cab ride home. He knew that Moriarty wouldn't think twice over killing Amy, and they couldn't call the police to save Amy without losing her to the orphanage. The cab pulled to a stop and John absentmindedly paid the driver.

John made his way up the stairs and into the flat, his eyes immediately shot towards the relaxed Sherlock sitting on the couch, "What are we going to do?"

"Nothing, John. Everything is okay." Sherlock murmured, not even opening his eyes for John.

John opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but he couldn't find the words to say. Silent rage boiled up inside of him. Moriarty had Amy and Sherlock didn't even care.

"Look in my room." Sherlock then said slowly, interrupting John's anger.

John clenched his fist and did what the man told him.

Sleeping in Sherlock's familiar bed was a scratched and bruised Amy.

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Sherlock smiled at John's silence. He was expecting the doctor to be relieved and his lack words only certified that.

"Was she here the whole time, Sherlock?" John asked, still angry.

Sherlock's smug smile fell as he replied, "I thought you would be relieved to know that..."

"Just answer the bloody question." John interrupted, "Did you come home to Amy being in the flat?"

"Yes." Sherlock answered.

John hung his head back before saying, "Then of course I'm angry Sherlock! You could have called, or texted. Anything to let me know she's not dead."

Sherlock rose up off of the couch and walked over towards his violin, "My phone was in my coat. You were going to see her when you got home."

Sherlock ignored John as he went to go check on Amy with clenched fists. Swiftly picking up his violin he began to play a small piece he was working on. Composing helped clear his mind, and at the moment a clear mind was a necessity.

Sherlock didn't know what to think about Moriarty's return. He didn't want Amy to be in danger, of course, but there was really nothing he could do. He didn't have much power over Moriarty. The man was cunning, fast, and he had plenty of people on his side. Sherlock only had his mind and a weak spot. Moriarty might have given Amy back, but this wasn't the end.

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John paused nursing Amy's wounds just in time to hear Sherlock stop playing and boom, "This is the beginning!"

John sighed and continued to look after Amy and Sherlock quickly left the flat. He was still slightly annoyed at Sherlock's inconsiderateness, but there was no use holding a grudge. Sherlock didn't understand emotions, and if he did then he didn't show them.

John, satisfied with his medical help, got up off the edge of Sherlock's bed and started to silently make his way out the room. He took one last, protective glance back at Amy. She had plenty of scratches and bruises. The biggest bruise stretching from her collarbone up her neck. Moriarty obviously didn't treat her 'first class' during the short amount of time he had her. John didn't understand how someone could be harsh to someone so frail. But then again, John didn't understand most of the things Moriarty did.

Amy stirred slightly, but then fell asleep again. John quietly shut the bedroom door behind him and started to make a cup of tea. It was only then did he notice how late it was and how exhausted he felt. Not wanting to stray to far from Amy, John settled on the couch. He tried to fight off sleep, but soon enough his eyes started to droop.

The flat was peaceful. The cup of tea resting on his chest was warm. And soon enough, John Watson was sleeping on the couch.

((Sorry for the short update. Continue commenting and voting!))