(Major editing) It wouldn't take a consulting detective to see that I love you.

Chapter 33.

AUTHOR NOTE
Hey guys, hope your still out there and that you don't hate me. It's all good. Well it is for now /.\ love yas, vote comment etc, 'specially since I'm sick!! BYEE

Still Sherlock's POV.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit" I mumbled under my breath as I ran out the door towards the library. I slammed the door open, giving people shocks. I ignored the death glares I got from the librarians as I shuffled down the aisle that stored the medical books.

I called his name few times before giving up and walking back to the librarians. "Excuse me but have either of you seen John Watson, he's about this high and has blond scruffy hair and blue eyes?" I asked as I held my hand up to my shoulder. "Yes, he left about two minutes ago with two other boys, one had black hair and the other had blond hair. They all seemed very chummy, the one with black hair had his arm around Johns shoulder." She said starting to ramble.

She continued to talk as I shot out of the room and sprinted down the hall. I didn't know what to do as I ran aimlessly in circles. I decided I would go and ask Mycroft for help although I hated the idea of it. I ran into his room when I came up to the door. Gavin was sat on a desk chair, leaning over a table that was covered in books. "Where is he?!" I shouted at him, making him jump. "Who, Mycroft?" He asked, swivelling around to face me. "Obviously!" I shouted, feeling the anger boil up inside of me. "Oh, he's in the shower." He told me with a smirk before turning back around in his chair.

I jumped over to the bathroom door and began banging on it furiously. "Mycroft, come out here now. It's an emergency!" I yelled, pressing my forehead against the door, trying to suppress tears. "What is it brother dear?" He asked in a monotone voice as he stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel loosely draped around his waist. "It's John," I told him, hearing Gavin swivel around to face us. "Some- someone took him Myc and-and I don't know what to do" I told him, my voice starting to quaver, I brought my hands up to my face as silent tears started to spill.

I looked up to his after a moments silence to see that he was stood still, staring into space with an innocent look plastered on his face. That's when I realised that I'd called him Myc instead of Mycroft, I hadn't called him Myc since I was a child. I still remember the last time I called him that, I was 12 and he was 15. He was leaving home for boarding school, but most of all, he was leaving me. Ever since we've been drifting more and more apart.

"Mycroft ?" I asked, snapping my fingers in front of his face. When he finally snapped back into reality, his eyes were wide for a brief minute before turning to their normal piercing gaze. "Okay, I will check the security cameras to see if there is and sign of John, do you have any information on the people that took him?" He asked, making as little eye contact as possible with me. "Uh, yeah. He was last seen in the library by the librarians, the said that two boys were with him, one had black hair and the other had blond, I don't know if that's any help but I could go as them if the could describe them any better if you want" I asked wanting to help.

"Yes, go, now" he mumbled as turned to grab some clothes off his bed. I ran out the door, leaving it open, and made my way back to the library. When I got there, the librarians were sitting drinking tea and gossiping. "Sorry, but could two tell me about the people that John left here with." I asked, slamming my hands down on the counter to get their attention.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" One of them asked putting down her cup of tea. "Everything, tell me everything you know about them, the both of them." I demanded. "Em, okay. The one that had his arm around John's shoulder had black hair. It was slicked back. He was short, but slightly taller than John. He was skinny. He wore a suit, looked like Westwood. He had quite a squeaky voice. The other one was tall, maybe a bit smaller than you though. He had dirty blond hair that was stuck up all over the place. The was in a black jumper and track suit bottoms. He didn't say a word. That's it ." She told me as I wrote down every word.

I brought the notes back to Mycroft. He was sat on the edge if his bed with his head in his hands. "Mycroft" I called out making it sound like a question. He looked up at me, his eyes were bloodshot. "Mycroft, what is it?" I asked as I shut the door behind me. "I'm-I'm sorry Sherlock, but I don't think we'll be able to get him back."