Falling Stars and Cigarettes

Considerably Younger

Sherlock didn't like the idea of Sibley going to the store alone while she was still healing, but she insisted she needed to get out and be alone. John also promised she'd be fine and he trusted John's word. He didn't know she'd be kidnapped.  

He was playing the violin when his phone buzzed and he was too into the music to notice. It wasn't until an hour later when John came back from visiting his girlfriend that he finally stopped. John looked around a moment before asking where Sibley was, sure that his friend wouldn't allow her to still be out considering just convincing him to let her go to the store was hard. Sherlock instantly became alert.

"She hasn't come home yet," he said, calm. He was sure she just lost track of time as he often did. He grabbed his phone to call her but realized that she had sent him a text.

Cabbie

Son

Left by St. Barts hospital

Hurry.

"She was taken." he said. John looked at him in fear and concern.

"What?! By who?!" he exclaimed.

"Looks like her cabbie. She sent this when they were making a left by Barts Hospital." he said.

"Her cabbie kidnapped her? Sounds like a study in pink." John said. Sherlock looked at him.

"That must be what she meant by son! It's his kid! We need to talk to Lestrade," Sherlock was out the door in seconds, John struggling to keep up.

~~~

Sherlock hadn't completely realized the impact Sibley had on people until she got kidnapped. While sadly, there were other crimes to deal with and not everyone could pitch in, a good 80 percent of Scotland Yard insisted on helping find his daughter. His daughter who brought people coffee and helped them with paperwork and would always comfort them when she saw they had just had a rough case. Police that Sherlock had never even seen were pitching in. No one would be satisfied until she was found.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said around 2AM that night (or morning, depending on how you look at it), "Go home, eat some food, get some rest." he insisted.

"I don't need rest. I don't sleep." Sherlock snapped.

"Maybe not normally but right now your daughter needs you at your best. If I have to, I'll just kick you out." he said. Sherlock heaved a frustrated sigh and stormed away. If they wouldn't let him at the yard, he'd have to work at the flat.

~~~

Four days. Sibley had been missing for four days. Sherlock hadn't slept in four days. John had barely slept in four days. It was late, same thing that happened last time, Lestrade kicked Sherlock out. He found himself walking the streets of London, not knowing his destination, at least until he arrived there.

He was sure she would be sleeping at this time. Most normal people were, especially ones that had early hours, but something told him she was awake. He knocked on the door and didn't have to wait long before it swung open. She stood there, light brown hair frizzed, dark bags resting underneath her bloodshot eyes, she had been crying.

"Sherlock," she said, the normally joyful pathologist did not smile at him.

"Molly, hello. Can I, uh, can I come in?" he asked. She frowned, confused by his unusual behavior, but nonetheless made space for him to walk in.

"What are you doing here, Sherlock? I'm not doing any favors for you, not right now." she said.

"You've been crying, why?" he asked.