For John Watson

[howdull]

[Sherlock is still finding pieces of the melted laptop in the carpet.

It had actually been quite an ingenious booby trap to be devised by a fourteen year old boy with only household chemicals to work with but, as Sherlock surmised, rather overkill to keep his mother from finding his extensive porn collection. Not one of their more illustrious cases, but it had been quite entertaining to watch both the boy and mother's faces as he revealed that he did know the how and why. He lost interest after the mother started shouting and John started shouting and the whole thing turned tedious.

He rather thinks John won't actually be doing a full write-up of this one on his blog.

It's been two days since their last case and he's beginning to get more than a little antsy. Lestrade has sent him nothing, just a boring hit and run that he refused to even leave the flat for, and nobody interesting has appeared through the blog. Said blog he is currently scrolling through on John's laptop, having borrowed it again.

He did ask, it's not his fault John hadn't been in the room at the time.]

Bored, John.

[He doesn't even know if his flatmate is even in, but that's hardly a necessity for him to actually speak to John. Frustrated, he throws the laptop across the room to hit the wall, where it summarily breaks. Which is where he can be found whenever John appears, sulking amidst pieces of laptop, both from the melted one of their last case and John's poor broken one.]

Comments

[howdull]

[Interesting, though not exactly surprising information given John's mannerisms and personality, all of which have clearly been shaped by a difficult and likely abusive home life.]

Your parents or Harry, could be either, which do you think is more likely?

[He assumes they went to different morgues and funeral parlours. It could even be the grave, if they're buried rather than cremated.]

[jumpthegun]

[He glances to the side.]

She's already used Harry. Dunno if she's the sort to do repeats. Jim doesn't seem like the type. Parents, probably? Harry ID'd their bodies at Royal London Hospital after the crash. [He clarifies after a moment.] Car crash. I'm, uh... d'you think they'd have forgotten me by now if we go back there? I sort of had to break out after they dragged me over there along with the kid Caroline shot.

[howdull]

Soundly deduced.

[He's not entirely sure it'll be the hospital, but it's their best lead for now and so he leans forwards to instruct the cab driver to change course and take them to the Royal London Hospital.]

I doubt they'll remember each patient, and we shouldn't be going anywhere near the same ward.

[jumpthegun]

[John nods.]

You really think he could hide Molly with a bomb down in their morgue without any problems?

[He's not incredulous, just confused as to how that would be possible. Hospitals might not be-]

Her credentials and vest. Bloody hell.

[Jim could easily turn Molly into a suicide bomber. She has precisely the sort of ID that would get her into any hospital motuary in London, minimal questions asked.]

How much d'you know about defusing bombs?

[howdull]

Nothing.

[Sherlock never likes to admit when he has gaps in his knowledge, but even he's not egotistical enough to put Molly's life in danger by pretending otherwise.]

But we can't risk drawing the police down onto the hospital unless there's no other choice, it could be that he would automatically detonate should they get involved.

[jumpthegun]

[This is going to be a problem. John tries to think.]

You've got a smartphone. I suggest you study up on the drive over. Probably some sort of suicide bomber vest. Jim seems like he has the resources for something higher end, not your typical IED.

[howdull]

[It's a little chastening that the suggestion for the obvious had to come from John, before Sherlock pulls his phone out and immediately begins trawling the web for everything he can find on diffusing bombs.]

Do you have your gun, still?

[It's low, for John's ears only. He hadn't paid attention to if it had been saved from Baker Street or not.]

[jumpthegun]

No. They're looking for it in the wreck at Baker Street. The investigators at the base knew about it.

[He doesn't even have a pocket knife at the moment, which he is sorely regretting.]

I can improvise if we need to.

[John's very good at improvising weapons, for better or worse.]

[howdull]

[Not ideal, but as long as he knows then he can work it into any potential scenario outcomes that he devises in his head.]

The number Molly called you from, was it hers? Was it unlisted? It's possible we may be able to track the phone itself.

[jumpthegun]

Unlisted. It's not either of the numbers from Jim's business card. Might just be a burner.

[He's probably watched too many crime scene procedurals with his mind going there, but when your life becomes one...]

I can try calling it back?

[howdull]

No.

[That's immediate and firm.]

The mobile might be in some way linked to the detonation device, or might even trigger the bomb itself. We can't possibly risk that... here. [He thrusts his phone at John and holds his hand out for John's phone in return.] You keep researching the diffusing of bombs, I need to call Mycroft.

[Much as it galls him to have to ask for big brother's help after things went so sour before, he's not going to risk Molly for the sake of pride. He's actually a little curious where his brother is, he's surprised no calls have been made regarding his fit on camera last night. Mycroft never goes anywhere, where could he be?]

Agh! I ask you about this and then I lose the tag. /o\

[jumpthegun]

[John hands over the phone Molly bought and takes Sherlock's to begin searching the web. He tries to think of anyone he can remember from the bombs squad over in Afghanistan that they could call, but he's been terrible about keeping in touch with people. He'd just kept an eye on the lists for wounded and checked in with Bill now and again to see who might have gone missing. If he'd just known about Matthews, maybe some of this could have been avoided.

When Sherlock calls Mycroft, he'll actually find it rings through to voicemail on the first attempt.]

<3

[howdull]

[Irritating.

Where is Mycroft? His brother never goes anywhere except work, home, and the Diogenes club. Even if he's in this stupid silent room, he would never have his phone off or out of his sight in case an important notification came in. If it were anyone else, he might actually be worried.

As it is, he's more concerned for whatever country Mycroft is probably currently invading.

He hangs up and tries again, if he gets no answer this time then he'll leave a voicemail.]

[brotheryours]

Am I allowed to speak to you once more? I thought I was banished, brother mine. What is it? I'm in the middle of something.

[howdull]

Then stop whatever poor country you're bullying, this is more important.

[Urgh, he's irritated already, how does Mycroft manage to rile him up so easily?]

I need a trace on a phone, and a bomb disposal expert discretely available for an imminent video conference call.

[brotheryours]

[Mycroft glances over at the Governor of Sherrinford and smiles at him, holding the phone away for a moment.]

I'll be a moment. Thank you.

[It's a dismissal if ever there was one. The man gets up to leave and Mycroft returns the phone to his ear.]

And were you imagining these requests would come free of charge?

[howdull]

I'm not stupid, Mycroft.

[Of course he knew they wouldn't be free, but this is Molly. He can't let her be hurt or killed, even if it means making a deal with the devil.]

I'm willing to negotiate, but this is time sensitive so do try to think faster than you can walk.

[brotheryours]

You and the good doctor will wear tracking devices for the inevitable moment that you're captured once more and I'm forced to rescue you. A sub-dermal tracking device might work best. [You think you like dogs, right, Sherlock?] You will also stay at the accommodations of my choosing.

[howdull]

No.

[He scoffs, surely Mycroft knew that would never be an acceptable term.]

We might stay in accommodations provided to us, but neither of us will be having tracking devices planted in our skin. I offer not obscuring or removing your "hidden" cameras for a month.

I need to track this properly with my Watson account because I keep missing this... /facepalm

[brotheryours]

You will stay at the accommodations. The remaining terms are acceptable.

[He hadn't thought it would work, certainly, but negotiation is the art of asking for things beyond the goal and working back to it.]

[howdull]

Done.

[He could argue more, but it's not worth the risk. Now that Mycroft is back within range of contact again, it means he'll likely be reviewing his spy footage and discover Sherlock's seizure, something that might change any price mid-negotiation. Better to get this done quickly.

He hangs up and texts Mycroft the phone number he has for Molly, that's the one he wants a trace on, and glances back over at John.]

Mycroft is tracing Molly's phone and will provide us with a bomb disposal expert to conference call with if we do find an explosive we need to diffuse. [He frowns, small lines of worry pinching at the corners of his eyes.] ...perhaps, John, you were right. I should have disclosed Caroline's location to the police last night, if I had then perhaps Molly wouldn't be in this position today.

[jumpthegun]

[John's not in the mood for 'I told you so.' He's still reading through websites, trying to commit everything to memory.] We can still do that. Might not be a bad idea to have Lestrade waiting in the wings.

[He glances over.]

Not the same as stopping it before it happens, but we do have more resources than just your brother who hates me.

[howdull]

No.

[Sherlock's mouth turns down, he would have liked to have Lestrade in on this but it's simply not possible.]

Any police presence is likely to prove fatal to Molly, she'll be being watched even if it's from a distance. You should tell me a little about the estrangement from your parents, it might help in determining where exactly this path leads.

[jumpthegun]

[John balks. He recognizes that what Sherlock's saying is true, but he's not sure where to start.]

What's there to say? I went off to uni, I didn't write to them or call. They didn't either. Next time I heard about them, it was a call from Harry telling me they'd died. Went to the funeral, said a few words. [He shrugs.] It wasn't a fight or anything. We just... didn't talk. I worked, kept up with classes. Wasn't really any need to talk to them.

[howdull]

Hardly surprising that you didn't talk to them. Children from an abusive household rarely feel an obligation to keep in contact once they've left, unless there's a younger sibling still in the family home.

[The cab driver's eyes flick towards the rear view mirror, but Sherlock doesn't seem to notice that their conversation has been gaining interest.]

Perhaps it has something to do with any final conversations had, the date of the last time you spoke to them?