Cassandra Watson (Sherlock BBC fanfiction)

Chapter Ten

When Cassandra woke up, her head was still spinning and her vision was still spotted. But, she was aware enough to process the situation: she was in a dark room tied to a chair. She wasn't blindfolded, but there wasn't much to see as it was so dark.

"Could you be any more stereotypical?" Cassandra asked the space. "Dark warehouse? Kidnapping victim tied up in the middle of the room? Can't you people come up with something original?"

There was no response. Cassandra was sure she was alone, or at least she was hoping she was. Despite her calm and cool composure on the surface, Cassandra was freaking out. Despite everything that her mother, her father, and her godfather had taught her, she felt scared and helpless. But she knew that she couldn't show and fear.

She moved her arms against her restraints and immediately bit back a yelp. Her wrists were tied tightly with ropes and even moving just a little bit caused them to burn her wrists. Whoever took her was making sure she wouldn't go anywhere.

A light turned on that seemed to only be facing Cassandra. She jumped as the bright light blinded her for a moment, startling her. She heard some footsteps enter the room.

"Well, well, well," said a voice. "Look who we have here. John Watson's little girl."

"Who the hell are you?" Cassandra asked, her eyes straining against the light to find out who the person was.

"That's an awful tone to take with the person who just kidnapped you," the voice pointed out. "You are feisty, just like your father. And your Uncle Sherlock."

Cassandra stopped at the mention of her uncle. "How do you know them?"

"I guess you could say I'm something of an old friend," the voice responded. The light was moved and Cassandra almost sighed with relief. A man that looked to be Sherlock's age stood over her. His face was lightly wrinkled and he had a gray hair here and there, but his hair was mostly black. Dyed regularly, Cassandra noted. "James Moriarty. Nice to finally meet you, Cassandra Watson."

§§§§

Sherlock arrived at John's place shortly after their phone call. John decided it was best not to ask how he got there so fast.

Austin was still sat at the kitchen table, trying to recover from his injuries. When Sherlock walked in, his glare automatically found the young boy. Austin tensed up, preparing to be yelled at again.

"Don't you start, Sherlock," Mary warned. "John already had a go at him, it wasn't his fault."

"He should have been watching Cassandra," Sherlock hissed.

"A man needs to use the restroom every once in while," Mary retorted. "Besides, Cassandra is a big girl. She's been watching herself ever since she was little. Whatever happened to her, not even Austin could have stopped. Now, stop all this nonsense and help us find our daughter."

Sherlock turned to John, who just shrugged. "She already gave me this speech."

Sherlock sighed and sat down in front of Austin. He looked Austin in the eyes and the famous consulting detective came out. For once in his life, John was relieved that Sherlock was...well...being Sherlock.

"Tell me what happened," Sherlock told him. "Everything. From the moment you two met up to the last moment you saw her. Do not leave out any details."

So, Austin recounted his story to Sherlock once again. He told every detail he could remember, starting from when the two had arrived and ending with when he woke up on the bathroom floor. He told Sherlock everything he could remember from when he was attacked, what he saw, smelled, felt, heard, everything. He recounted everything about the people he asked about Cassandra when he woke up, and everything they said to him.