Distant Minds {{Sherlock Rp with Circledude5}}

[Circledude5]

Sherlock had just reached the bottom of the stairs when he thought heard Ciera begin to stir. He stood stock still, listening. She indeed seemed to be coming round. He switched direction, going back up to the guest room and throwing open the door.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Sherlock had thrown open the door.


"What the Hell." She said simply as she sat up, pinching the bridge of her nose as the pounding in her skull intensified. She took a moment regardless to survey herself.


"Shaky hands, headache, dry mouth. Narcotics? Yeah, definitely narcotics. Did someone drug me?" She asked as she finally looked up at Sherlock.

 

[Circledude5]

"That appears to be the case," Sherlock said. He didn't prevent the prescription pad from putting itself on the shelf; he kept careful records of when and how the people around him were drugged.


He gave her a few seconds to survey her surroundings, and then he pounced. He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look directly at him, and spoke extremely fast.


"Who did you meet? Why? Who was threatened? Where did you go? Who else was there? Come now, think! What did they say?"

 

[Shadow Cat]

"I-I dont... I don't remember." Ciera responded slowly, as she was trying to pull the groggy memories back from wherever they had gone. She was at the hospital with Sherlock and John, there was an incoming text, and then it just went blank. And she told him exactly that.


"The last thing I remember is getting a text." She paused for a moment as she looked around. "Where is my phone?"

 

[Circledude5]

"You don't have it on you?" Sherlock scanned her person, but couldn't spot the telltale rectangular lump in any of her pockets. "You're sure you don't remember anything?"


He knew what Moriarty was doing, sure. But...arrggg. He needed to know.


With one last disappointed look, Sherlock went downstairs to recreate his evidence board on the wall behind the sofa.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera raised an eyebrow as he left before standing up. The standing part was difficult due to the strong sensation of vertigo. She put a hand on a nearby night stand and used it to hold herself in place for a moment before shakily walking out. She kept a hand gripped tightly around the railing as she slowly walked down the stairs, stopping at the landing and watching as Sherlock recreated his crime wall.

 

[Circledude5]

John was smiling slightly, but not the happy smile. It was the angry/disapproving smile. Sherlock did his best to ignore John's eyes burning a hole into his back as he scrambled around the living room, collecting his materials.


After several minutes, however, the Detective no longer could disregard his flatmate.


"It's not entirely my fault, you know, John."

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera raised an eyebrow at John. "It isn't his fault at all, actually." She hadn't found any ligature marks on her wrists or ankles, and there hadn't been any bruising, so she had obviously went where ever it was that she had been taken willingly.

 

[Circledude5]

She'd gone willingly, yes, but...it wouldn't have happened if she's associated herself with him, anyways.


He took a look at his watch (John had bought and forced him to wear it) and saw it was nearly twelve thirty. To distract John from a retort incriminating him further, Sherlock said "Isn't it almost time for you to start badgering me about lunch around now?"


"Oh," John said, "So you do know when it's time to eat."

 

[Shadow Cat]

The effects of the narcotics were all but gone now. She smiled a small smile at John and Sherlock's bickering. It seemed so... normal in comparison to everything else. Especially when nothing ever seemed normal.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock ignored John's comment and then went to the desk to open his email on John's laptop. He always took the care of backing up at least some of the files online. He'd have to text Molly to get her to send him the reports though.


He knew she thought he always disregarded her, but she was useful. And helpful. And always kind. He hadn't met too many people like that.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera turned as Sherlock opened a laptop. She ascended the stairs and turned the corner to walk into the small bathroom that was just beside the spare bedroom. She stood for a moment and put a finger to the small puncture wound in her neck where a needle had likely been inserted. She started as a memory surface. She was stepping into a cab, closing the door as Sherlock ran out of the hospital after her.


Blinking in surprise, she closed her eyes and tried to remember something else. She had been driven somewhere. Definitely near the hospital. The amount of time between when she had left the lab and when she had awoken wasn't that great. A large building flashed in her memory, walls ruined and charred by a fire.


Turning, she ran out of the bathroom and back into the spare bedroom, pulling her laptop out f her bag. Time to find out where she had been taken. Maybe seeing it again would refresh her memory.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock had just sent the couple-few pages of victim information to their printer on the shelf next to the fireplace when he heard thumping footsteps upstairs. John had surrendered his laptop to him for once to make Ciera, he assumed, a cup of tea. He wondered what the hurry was for.


Perhaps she was feeling faint, or dizzy, or nauseous. Given the direction of the steps, the timing, and the layout of the second floor, he concluded that she must have felt dizzy. If she'd felt nauseous, she'd have been going towards the bathroom, instead of away from it.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera quickly ran an area search of any abandoned buildings within 5 miles of the hospital. She then cross-searched that list with any that had been destroyed in fires. Bingo, only one. That had to be it.


She stood quickly with a smile and grabbed her coat and scarf off of the doorknob where she had placed them, quickly throwing them on and running downstairs, quickly turning to begin descending the second set of stairs that would lead her to the door.

 

[Circledude5]

Okay...evidently not dizziness since she was running down the stairs. The realisation of where she was going hit, and then Sherlock was grabbing his coat too.


"Ciera, Sherlock! Ahoooowwww..." John, in the effort to follow, had hit the heating kettle into himself. His exclamation of pain was followed by a very long string of curse words, but Sherlock had only heard the passionate "DAMN IT!" Before he'd burst out the door right behind Ciera.


"Where are you going?" Sherlock already knew the answer of course, but still asked it.

 

[Shadow Cat]

"583 Drew Rd." Ciera answered simply as she ran out and hailed the nearest cab, jumping into it quickly and giving the cab driver the address. She drummed her fingers impatiently as she waited on Sherlock to get into the cab.

 

[Circledude5]

[completely disregarding that's actually pretty far from both Barts and 221 Baker St ]


Sherlock considered. Yeah, he was going. Without a glance back at the first floor window of his flat, Sherlock slid into the seat next to John's cousin, shutting the door behind him.

 

[Shadow Cat]

((Lol I just made up a street, Idk where the fuck that is xD ))


The cab sped off as John ran outside. With a string of curses, he turned to go back inside and finish the tea, figuring they would be back eventually.


They pulled up moments later outside the large, fire ravaged house. She jumped out, running over to the door. Locked, of course. It looked like someone had very recently replaced the lock from the original. Ciera backed up for a moment before striking out a foot and opening the door by force. The neglected door frame gave way easily.

 

[Circledude5]

[oh haha. Yeah it's by the airport so it's pretty far]


Sherlock was not accustomed to being left behind in a cab. Usually he was the one leaving someone behind. So, when he tried to follow, he was stopped rather rudely by the cabbie.


"Hey mate, you gotta pay!" The man said. Sherlock rolled his eyes and handed the driver a couple of bills. He didn't bother to go stay for the change, so he could follow Ciera, who had just kicked down the door.


"Made sure to kick it by the lock?" Sherlock asked, looking at the kicked-in door.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera listened to Sherlock as she stepped over the threshold. "I'm not an idiot." She replied with a small smile as she walked in. As soon as she was far enough into the room to see the staircase, she saw the small pink case laying near it. So that was where her phone had gone.


Walking over to pick it up, she briefly remembered a snip of conversation.


"Call me Moriarty."





"Moriarty." She mumbled to herself as she picked up the phone and the battery laying near it.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock heard her mumble the name. Knew it.





The black skulled tie appeared, wrapped around a paintbrush on Ciera's shelf; his assumption confirmed.


"What did he say?" Sherlock said quietly, but still emanating his get-to-the-freaking-point attitude.

 

[Shadow Cat]

"I can't remember." Ciera mumbled, almost sorry that she couldn't explain exactly what had happened. She looked up and saw the hole in the floor above her, something telling her to go up.


She walked back to the stairs, still clutching her phone. She glanced around, watching her step as she made it to the landing as a strange sense of deja vu settling over her. She walked into the nearest room and another snip of conversation came to mind.


'Why would you want to warn me of what I'm getting into?'


'The same reason a feline plays with it's prey. Fun.'





She didn't realize that she had mumbled that last part out loud.

 

[Circledude5]

He was getting impatient, but knew he couldn't force it and therefore had to wait. He'd always hated waiting. But he also knew that pestering would only slow the person down. And yet he couldn't help but let "Context?" Slip out.


He didn't look at her, for fear that she would tell him off and further delay the delicate process.

 

[Shadow Cat]

Ciera looked around and said, "I asked him why we would want to warn me of what I was getting into, and he said that it was the same reason a feline plays with it's prey. Fun." Ciera replied without looking back before taking a few more steps into the room.

 

[Circledude5]

Sherlock didn't respond, but followed at an appropriate distance.


Though it had already been verified, Sherlock thought that that definitely sounded like Moriarty. The thing with Moriarty was, as much as he wanted to hate the man with all he could, the fact remained that Moriarty understood - really, nearly completely understood - Sherlock's motives. And that was something he'd never experienced before. Even his own mother, caring, kind, comprehending as she was, could never really 'get' why Sherlock did the things he did. So, while the great detective knew that Moriarty couldn't be trusted, Moriarty liked to toy with his friend, Moriarty was trying to get to the Ice Man behind the British government, he could not help being drawn.


Of course, he couldn't tell anyone this. If he did, there was the chance that Moriarty would find out the true reason why Sherlock was still challenging him, playing his games. And the consulting criminal had been trying to recruit him as King of the Dark Side for ages.