Stuck in a web {BBC Sherlock}

Finding out about the Russian guy

I woke to the sound of a violin. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I was still on the couch, but it looked like early morning. I looked over at Sherlock, who had stopped playing.

"Hi." I said casually, stretching my arms

"Who's Vladamir?" He asked, frowning at me

"Vladamir." I repeated, sitting up straight. Then I remembered, the fight, the russian guy, the shopping, the hospital, my mum, martha. I put my head in my hands.

"Does he make you upset?" Sherlock asked

"What?" I looked up "No!" I sighed and flopped back onto the couch.

"Oh I see, you're still not over your friend?" I gaped at him

"Of course not! She's the only thing I've ever had and she's gone." I spoke quietly, tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks.

"Ok then." Sherlock said, not sticking to that subject for any longer. "Who's Vladamir?"

"Vladamir- Wait how do you know about Vladamir?"

"You talk in your sleep."

what

"Oh my god." I muttered "What else did I say?"

"You said Vladamir alot, and Martha. Also Moriarty Ms Mo and-" he stopped himself

"And what else?" I demanded

"Nothing else." His face was calm and collective, but I knew better.

"Tell me." He didnt speak. "now" Sherlock swore under his breath, he then looked down at me and sighed

"You said my name... Once or twice."

"How many times."

"14"

"shit." I could feel myself going red. I murmered something about getting changed and ran into the bathroom with my bag.

Well that wasn't awkward.

I pulled all my new clothes out of my bag and pulled on one of the massive The 1975 hoodies and some black jeans, throwing on the converse I'd bought and swallowing a red pill. I shoved the rest of the clothes back into the bag and marched up the stairs to John's old room. It was pretty empty, all that was there was a bare matress on a white double bed, a wooden chest of drawers and a desk with a dusty blue lamp and a chair. This was perfect. It could do with some posters...

I shook my head. Your best friend died yesterday, and you're thinking of posters?

I folded all of the clothes and put them in the drawers. I made my way down the stairs, with my backpack and the shirt, and walked into the living room.

"Sherlock, I have your shirt-"

"Bin."

"What?"

"Put it in the bin, it was old anyway." I shrugged and shoved the shirt in the bin next to the fridge. Once I'd done I sat down in the chair opposite Sherlock, curling my feet in under me.

"You still didn't tell me who Vladamir was. I know he was someone you hate, because of the way you reacted when I asked if he made you upset."

"I've never met him."

Sherlock nodded and pressed his hands under my chin. His eyes seemed to say, continue.

"Yesterday when I was in town, I was chased by this man, he attacked me. But I held him off. I kinda... forced him into telling me who was after me."

"And he said Vladamir." Sherlock replied, nodding. He stood up and grabbed his coat and scarf, throwing them on an tying his scarf in that way that was really...

I shook my head. Woah Jane, focus.

"Where are you going?"

"We are going to see someone."

"Who?"

"My Brother."

***

"I knew you'd be involved with this in one way or another." Sherlock's brother sat on a sofa opposite me and Sherlock. He wore a very smart suit and red tie. He looked at me in a way that said, filth. Pfft. Who was he to judge me?

"Hmm. Now, Mycroft I need to see files for someone called Vladamir and he has a connection with James Moriarty." Sherlock sat on the sofa like he owned the place. I on the other hand, sat on the edge of my seat. Sherlock's brother clearly hated me, and was starting to give me the heebyjeebies.

"I don't have any files on-"

"Of course you do Mycroft you're the British government."

Mycroft sighed and called for his assistant. He told her to get the files. While she was gone, the two Holmes brother's were having quite the staring contest. At one point Mycroft looked from me to Sherlock an sniggered. These people were weird. The assistant came back and handed Mycroft the file, he in turn handed it to Sherlock. I read it over his shoulder.

Vladamir Drakov
Age: 23
Heritage: Russian
Father: Unknown
Mother: Unknown

Youngest male in a family of 4 children. Two older brothers and a younger sister. Lived in Russia until the age of 15, when he moved to ireland for several years on an exchange programme at BentWorth Academy. Left the programme early, at 17, and returned home to Russia to provide home for his family after his mother became ill. His older siblings could not gain the sufficient amount of money to sustain a healthy home. Drakov started stealing, moving from money to larger things like jewels. Spent all the stolen money on gambling, drugs and alcohol. Lost all his money to a criminal gang in 2012. Moved to Britain, held captive in prison for two years. Released- march 12th 2014.

Wow. I thought. This guy was seriously messed up. I glanced at Sherlock to see his reaction, but it looked Ike he was trying I see mine. He smirked when I caught his eye.

"How does this explain anything about my brother?" I said to both Holmes' brothers.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as if to say seriously? you are stupid. "he went on an exchange programme to Ireland. We need to find out more information about BentWorth Academy" and with that he strode out the door. I scrambled out after him, only stopping to say bye.

"Nice meeting you!" I said hurriedly, as Sherlock was nearly out the door.

"Jane?"

"Yes?" I span around, sighing

"Be careful around my brother."

Sherlock's head appeared in th doorway, frowning. I nodded slowly at Mycroft and followed Sherlock.

"Laterz!"

Hi! How are things in reader land?

I just wanted to let you know that Vladamir Drakov was invented by my dear friend Mr @thepansycakehunter (she's not a dude btw) do I would appreciate if you followed and read her story bc it's FABULOUS

Kay THANKS BYE

don't forget to vote and comment! :D

P.S

THANKS FOR 100 READS IT MEANS SO MUCH OMG ILY GUYS