The older Holmes brother sat in his office area of the Diogenes Gentlemen's Club, glancing over a newspaper with a cup of tea on the table beside his armchair. There was an old landline phone on the same little table, and it began to ring abruptly. He sighed in exasperation at having to answer the phone before putting down the paper and reaching for the phone.
Mycroft cleared his throat, "Hello?"
"When was the last time you checked your step-daughter's whereabouts?" His younger brother's voice asked.
"The last time you saw me. Then she went to a friend's house. Why must you know?"
"Nothing serious, just her life depending on it."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"It's for a case. Goodbye!" Sherlock fake-cheerfully closed the call and placed his mobile phone into his coat pocket.
He had taken a cab to where he knew that Mycroft's family lived with John to accompany him. They burst through the doors the minute that the housekeeping lady opened them, startling her with their sudden appearance. It took her a few moments to recognize the men since they had only ever been to the house a few times. The pair continued to fast-walk around the vastly decorated home and checked in on wherever they could predict for Lorelin to be or if any of her things had been taken- especially her cell phone.
Just as Sherlock had suspected, the girl was nowhere to be seen and her phone had been left on top of a table in her bedroom. This seemingly meaningless detail signalled that Lorelin had either been taken, forcedly rushed away, or told to leave it at home (since her location could be identified that way). The detective hacked into her phone and checked her messages along with recent calls she had received. Using information he gathered, Sherlock discovered the place where Lorelin would most likely be.
"The game is on." He simply stated to John before hopping back into a different cab and heading to a certain place in the city.
"Moriarty's tricked you earlier, are you sure this isn't a trick?" The blogger asked through the duration of the ride.
"Of course it isn't." His partner responded.
"How do you know?"
"Probability, John."
"And what if he's that smaller percentage that decides to fool you to prove a point again?"
"Let's not play the 'What If...' game. It wastes time and usually isn't worthwhile."
"Sherlock, I don't want you to be wrong about this. There are actual people's lives at stake, here."
"I'm aware of that."
"Drop me off at the flat."
"What? Why?" Sherlock furrowed his brows and turned his head in pure surprise.
"I want to stay back and see if there's anything else we can do to work out on this case for the better."
"Fine, John. But if I need you, please come as soon as possible."
"I promise, Sherlock. Just stop acting like either a know-it-all or a clingy child."
"I don't do that."
"Yes you do. Bye!" John waved as he exited the cab and went up to his front door.
The detective's eyes remained trained on the doctor until he was inside of the flat, still paranoid that someone would try to hurt him. It would be too hard for him to move on from a massive loss like that. He had only ever had one true close friend- John Hamish Watson, and could never deal with losing him.
Meanwhile, the doctor had noticed that Mrs. Hudson had gone out, probably for groceries as she had mentioned several times. He went up the stairs to the main room and Maire leaped around his feet, leaving short red furs on his pants. As she lead him over towards the side of the room, he discovered a very strange sight. Something, indeed, incredibly odd.
>>>>
Lorelin's dark brown hair covered parts of her face as she hung her head. Her fingers slowly pressed keys and typed away at a computer, each word exactly as instructed from her given earpiece. Her distressed look and sad face should've made the people around her concerned. Sadly, everyone was too focused on their own tasks to bother with one upset teenage girl. Even the tears welling up in her emerald-coloured eyes that fell down her pale cheeks.
She knew she shouldn't have reacted so timidly to typing up a passage, but the strict standards forced upon her were terrifying to a young girl. One incorrect spelling or typo would result in her losing someone she cared for- namely, her closest friend would be first, then her mother, her step-father, and so on until her life was the only one left. Like any regular person, Lorelin feared the unknown of death and didn't wish it upon any one of the people that were listed off to her.
She blamed herself for the enforced code of conduct. If she hadn't had a night of weakness that brought her down to desperation, she wouldn't have been in contact with the criminal. Lorelin's depression left an empty void in her, causing for her to want to run away from the life she had known. The young girl had run into the, not-as-infamous, Sebastian Moran who recognized her at once. He pretended to assist her while actually leading her right into the hands of Moriarty, who messed around with Lorelin as he pleased. The gifted criminal was proud of Moran for bringing him the perfect bait to use against both Mycroft and Sherlock, two men he had been getting at for eternity.
Lorelin's thoughts caused her silent crying to turn closer to a fit as bystanders began to give her strange looks and scoot away. One man pushed through the few clumps of people gathered around the building and spotted his brother's step-daughter. His eyes unwillingly softened at the sight of her in a moment of weakness and he approached her in a more peaceful manner.
"Finish the last sentence and run away with me, don't worry about it- you'll be safe." The man reassured, his voice immediately tagged as being familiar by Lorelin.
She nodded while frowning and pressed the "Publish" button, running into her step-uncle for protection. He grabbed the 13-year old's wrist to guide her quickly between the throngs of (irritating) people conversing with each other. She winced at the contact, scars not completely healed yet as her depressed state had not gotten much better than before and occasionally harmed herself to let out pent-up enotion. Sherlock had noticed and easily deduced what she had done to herself and reminded himself to talk to her about it after they were safe.
The two ran around a block to catch a cab back to Baker Street and went inside the first one that stopped. The girl was breathless and an emotional wreck over her normally unresponsive step-relative being so caring towards her along with the increasing panic over her life. She hadn't finished with what Moriarty had been telling her to write and left the earpiece to scream inside of the public library for someone else to discover.
"Are we in the clear yet?" Lorelin asked, looking up at Sherlock.
He nodded, still thinking of what to say about her cuts.
"Good." She sighed, sitting back with a relaxed exhale and some dark hair falling back into her face.
