Deductions (A Wholock Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

JOHN'S POV

"Eloise! Wait!" I shouted, trying to keep up with Sherlock as we ran. After a few failed attempts to catch her attention, Sherlock shouted for her as well.

"Eloise!" She paused, turning to face us.

As soon as she faced us, however, I noticed someone creeping up behind her, with what looked like a gun in their hand.

"Sherlock," I breathed, taking out my phone as I ran in case we needed to call for backup. "Sherlock, look."

"Eloise! Behind you!" Sherlock yelled, noticing him as well.

Eloise looked over her shoulder, taking notice of whoever was towering over her.

He quickly held the object in his hand to her head, confirming my earlier suspicions. He was holding a gun, and it was loaded.

A hand went over Eloise's mouth and an arm pinned her against her captor.

"No, no, no," Sherlock muttered to himself, trying to run faster.

"Lestrade is going to kill us."

By now Eloise had dropped her bag to the ground and was probably trying to stay awake. After struggling for a few moments, she fell limp in the stranger's arms. He caught her just before she hit the ground, hoisting her up and running in the opposite direction.

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"You what?" Lestrade shouted, slamming his hands on his desk. "You're lying..."

"I'm afraid we aren't," I replied, dropping her bag on the desk. "She left this though. Something in here might help us find her."

"Like what?" Lestrade questioned, frustrated. "It's her purse, for goodness sakes. What do you expect to find in there?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "Maybe she had some enemies. She's not all that different from Sherlock."

I turned to Sherlock. He had Eloise's bag on his lap and was looking at something in his hand. Tears were threatening to come out of his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to keep them in and hide his emotions. To say the least, he looked like an emotional train wreck.

"Sherlock?"

He held his free hand over his mouth, trying not to sob. He looked worse than he did at Baskerville, when he said that he had seen the famous "hound."

"Sherlock? Are you alright?"

He clutched the object in his hand tighter before tossing it on the desk and bursting out of the room. I leaned over and picked it up, holding it carefully. In my hand was a silver locket, a large "N" engraved on the outside. Curious, I opened it up, staring in shock at what it held inside.

On the inside was a picture of Eloise, standing alongside Sherlock and Mycroft when they were kids.

Flipping the locket over onto the back, I read the rest of the engraving.

"To Nardosa."

Below it was what startled me most.

"From your brothers, Sherlock and Mycroft."