John keeps trying to unlock the door, cursing loudly when it doesn't open. He calls someone, receiving no answer. I tug on his sleeve, making him sit down, and start doing what I do to Sherlock. He lies down, letting me lie on top of his chest. I dont move until he has calmed down, snuggling against his side instead. He wraps his arms around me, burrying his face in my fur. His mobile goes off a while later, startling us both.
"Sherlock?...yes I'm still here...we're bloody stuck Sherlock...me and your dog...yes he's okay...no, this is the first time my mobile has worked since you left us here...fine, but hurry."
He sits back down, letting me curl up in his lap. I go back to sleep, lifting my head when the door opens.
"John?"
Sherlock walks over, gently touching Johns shoulder.
"Dont touch me."
"I'm sorry. I...I had to. I couldnt let you come with me."
"What the hell did you do?"
"I cant tell you that."
John stands quickly, walking quickly out of the room."
"John wait! Please, come back."
"No Sherlock."
I whine, barking softly when the door closes behind them. It opens a few minutes later, Sherlock close to tears. I run over to him, licking his hand until he responds to me.
"He's gone."
He sits down, pulling me against his chest. Sherlock burries his face against my fur, breath shaking and uneven. I tug on his sleeve, making him lie down so I can lie on his chest. It takes a while, but I am eventualy able to calm him down. He pulls out his mobile, fingers unsteady as he types in a number.
"Mycroft?"
He starts crying again, barely able to continue speaking.
"Come get me. Please...No, I can't stay. Please Mycroft...."
Sherlock stands up suddenly, yelling loudly and throwing his mobile. I jump, growling softly at his display of anger.
"Shut up!"
He leaves the room again, letting the door close behind him. I start barking, stopping when his mobile rings. It doesnt stop, receiving a call every few minutes until the battery goes dead. The door opens suddenly, a worried John stepping through with Mycroft close behind.
"Damn it!"
"Where would he have gone? He left his dog. Mycroft..."
"Shut up! He left his dog and his mobile, so hes gone."
"Gone where?"
"He'll come home on his own in a few days, I may be able to find him on my own though."
John kneels down, grabbing Sherlocks cell and whistling for me to follow him. I do, standing and walking out of the room behind him.
"Go outside, to my car. Call you parents, let them know you're going to be late getting home."
We run out to the car, John and I hopping into the back. Mycroft starts the car, speeding down the streets. The car stops in front of a rundown old warehouse, both boys hopping out.
"Find Sherlock. Go get him."
John unclips my leash, opening the door and following me through the dark rooms. Something moves, somewhere off to our left, and I dart off through a stack of crates too thin for the boys to go through.
"Redbeard! Come back."
I ignore John, finally picking up Sherlocks scent and following it to a set of stairs. John has found me, waving at Mycroft to hurry up. Their shoes are loud on the metal stairs, my paws clicking quietly on the cement floor at the top. There is a locked door at the end of the fourth floor hallway, a sharp smoky smell coming under the crack. Mycroft picks the lock, using a technique similar to the one Sherlock uses. He flings the door open, instantly honing in on the limp figure on the floor.
