Missing. (Johnlock) (Teenlock)

Chapter five

Hi, I'd like to thank you for getting this far with my story, it means so much to know that someone has actually read it, although writing it is very fun. I just want to warn you about this chapter, there is a bit of drug use and overdose which may not be so pleasant. Otherwise I hope you enjoy!

Charlotte xoxo

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It had been three days and three very lonely nights with no news from Mycroft. John lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, the light off, just wondering what had happened. Why were Sherlock's parents so horrible to him? Such a perfect seeming boy had so many problems. John sighed and rolled over so that he lay on his side. Normally this wouldn't have affected him so much but... well it did. It was something about Sherlock that made John want to know more, want to explore that amazing mind. It wasn't just his looks that were attractive, it seemed that Sherlock's very being was calling out to John for love, who wanted to give it so desperately. 

The boy sighed, maybe he'd never see Sherlock again. Even if Mycroft found him it was unlikely that he would want to see Johh after how he had responded to the kiss. It made John sad to see that he had caused Sherlock so much grief and pain. However, what kept John awake at night wasn't the guilt. It was the look that Sherlock had given him before running away. The look of 'but I like you anyway'. It made John's stomach flip with nerves to know that Sherlock could have thought that.

Somewhere in the dark depths of London's darkest allyways, a boy lay, his eyes half closed as he felt the drug running throught his veins. He sighed, relaxed and free from the stresses of his usual life. From deep within him, the boy whispered a word, "John."

A loud beeping sound startled John from his sleep and he sat up. The boy glanced towards the clock, '4:30'. He groaned and looked down to his phone, though his eyes shot open at the message,

"We've found him.

MH."

John jumped out of bed and threw on any clothes he could find before dashing downstairs. He pushed the door open and, as expected, Mycroft's car pulled up. John climbed in, a grin on his face at the thought of seeing Sherlock, though this faded when he saw the concerned look on Mycroft's face,

"What is it?" John asked, beginning to panic.

Mycroft shook his head, "I can only guess."

And with that the car began to drive, carrying John closer to Sherlock.

Soon, John and Mycroft climbed out of the car and was greeted by a homeless man,

"He's down there." The man said, pointing towards a darkened allyway. John found himself running in the direction pointed. At the end of the ally, John could see a body. His heart raced,

"No no no no no!" He hissed, dreading the thought of losing Sherlock. He sped up and crouched by the boy,

"Sherlock? It's me, John, I'm here."

Though he soon saw that the boy was calm. Sherlock lay on the floor, his eyes almost closed and a sense of content about him, it was almost eery. John felt tears heat his eyes, "M-Mycroft!" He yelled, willing the man along.

Soon Mycroft also knelt over Sherlock, looking over his brother's body, 

"Heroin." He said, soon finding syringe laying next to Sherlock.

John blinked, "He had cocaine last time... but said it was for an experiment..." He trailed off. With a sudden rush of horror, John realised that this was the experiment. Sherlock was seeing which drug worked best to relieve his mind of the horrible memories which tortured him. He looked towards Mycroft, 

"What do we do?"

The pair bundled Sherlock into the back of the car and sat either side of him, keeping the drugged boy upright. Soon, Sherlock opened his eyes and looked around the car, eyes soon landing on a worried looking John. He smiled and lazily placed his hand on John's cheek,

"You're here." Sherlock whispered, seeming happy to see the boy. John sighed and shook his head,

"Yes... I am here." John said, reaching up and took Sherlock's hand and held it within his own. He sighed, "You... you could have spoken to me... you didn't have to do this." John looked down at their hands, though soon realised that Sherlock wouldn't have opened up to him, it took Mycroft to tell John the truth.

Sherlock frowned, "But I did have to do this." He said as if it were fact, though the look on Mycroft's face told him to 'shut up'.

"I'm taking both of you back to my house, I'm not risking leaving Sherlock at home, not like this." Mycroft said, turning his head to look out of the window. 

John nodded, he would house Sherlock himself if Mycroft had wanted to send Sherlock home, and there was no way that John would leave the poor boy, he intended to be there for him and prove that he could be trusted. When John looked up at Sherlock, he was surprised to see that the boy had fallen asleep on Mycroft's shoulder. The look in the older man's eyes told John everything he needed to know - Sherlock was extremely important to him, perhaps the most important thing, and this close relationship was extremely rare. John sighed and lay his head against the door, deciding sleep would do him good too.