Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Lost Locket

Chapter 1: Joke's on Sherlock

Chapter 1 Joke’s on Sherlock  

The strong terrible man grunted and heaved Sherlock up into the air roared in delight then slammed him into the ground. John watched in horror as Sherlock fell to the ground with nasty crack of bones. Sherlock didn’t move. The man ran off, cackling. John gaped unbelieving at the limp form of him crumpled on the ground. Sherlock moaned weakly and flinched at the seer of unbearable pain that spiked through  his left arm. Fiery hot warmth flooded through his body as if a fire was blazing within him. He was throbbing in pain that tore through him as if he was being violently struck by  lightning from the top of his head to his toes that tingled. He rocked back in forth in pure agony.  His heart thumped against his chest and cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He tried to get up but exhaustion suffocated all around him and with one last cry of anguish he sank to the ground. Something wet was gushing from a gash in his head and made his hair cling to his forehead. The last thing he whispered “John…” and he could barely keep his eyes open and the world became dark. His whole body sore,unmovable and useless he fainted.

It was as if he was coming out of the deep side of the  ocean and had finally resurfaced. Sherlock flicked open his eyes and gasped with breath as if something heavy had been lifted off his chest.  Suddenly, his head felt weightless and dizziness overtook him like fog and he fell back onto soft bed in which he was comfortably positioned. He felt it hard to breath and it all came out in raspy breaths but then he settled down and all he could feel was the dull pulsating ache in his left arm. It was in a sling and he could barely move it in its painfully twisted state. He tried to move some of his fingers but they were numb and clammy. He looked around and touched his head with his good arm...there was a padded bandage around his head and suddenly he realized the dry metallic taste in his mouth. His lip was bleeding. He wondered where he was and what happened. Then it all came to him like a rush of cold wind that weakened his already drained body. The large man, the mystery, the running...the chase… JOHN. Realization, worry, fear of the unknown slammed into him.

“John...JOHN?!!” Sherlock croaked sickly jerked frantically to look at the door around and grimaced at the sudden sting coming from the bandage around his head. It was as if someone was pounding a mallet against the inside of his head. Where was he? Suddenly he heard a muffled voice from downstairs.

“Yes, what do you want, you bloody git..you’ve been asleep for ages...had to take care of you…” This went on for awhile with some grumbling and cursing. Sudden relief poured warmly over Sherlock and he tried to get out of the bed. The sheets tangled around his feet and he collapsed onto the ground with great commotion. The minute his legs hit the ground a twinge of pain shot up and into his chest. He was stupidly stuck in a odd position on the ground. At that moment, the door swung open and John ran to his side.

“What have you done now?” he said and smiled wanly. He deduced he had not slept for days by John’s drooping eyes.

“C’mon help me up!” Sherlock said frustrated and stubbornly he tried to sit up but looked more like a turtle on its shell. John’s expression was mixed with concern and amusement. He then picked up Sherlock and cradled him like a child and gingerly placed  him back into bed.

“Careful now!” snapped Sherlock indignantly as he had almost rolled on his left arm. John straightened and tucked the sheets around Sherlock and padded them straight and fluffed the pillows. He then ruffled Sherlock’s rumpled curly hair and promptly left with a “Good night Mr. Holmes” and a shut of the door. Sherlock felt depressingly imprisoned. He couldn’t move without help and he was stuck in bed without escape. But with despair and with his mind wildly turning he fell asleep once again.

He woke up again incredibly sore but a great deal better than the day before. He turned to his left to see John snoring on the couch and holding Abigail close to his heart. Sudden panic surged into him like a freight train.

“John!” he cried.

John started and sat bolt up in the fluffy couch. Abigail started to wail. Sherlock’s head rang terribly from her crying.

“w-whadayawant” John scowled and rubbed his eyes with his free hand the other holding Abigail.

“Do you have it?” said Sherlock in a high pitched voice. His eyes in a desperate fleeting look.

“Do I have what?” he replied  distractedly

“The locket, Do you have it?,”he pleaded his voice getting increasingly louder.

“Course I have it,” said John all knowingly.

“B-but how.The man took it from me when I fell.” he said more to himself then John.

“ I have forgotten to tell you. I had the locket all along...YOU had the decoy locket,” John said matter of factly.“He went after you because you started running and you of course didn't know you were holding the fake one,” He stopped for a moment to pat Abigail soothingly. “So it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?” This whole time Sherlock’s face was a distorted into a very hateful,shocked expression.

“But how could you?” he stuttered, “I could have been killed!” He started to look like a whiny child.

“Payback! You know for all the near death experiences you got me into,” replied Watson smugly. Sherlock glared at him and then turned facing his back to John.

“Revenge is bloody sweet,” said John gleefully.

“Still, I could have died,” muttered Sherlock.

“Come off it, why don’t we just forget about all of this,” said he.

At this Sherlock flung himself from the bed and attempted to stand straight up. He quickly fell to the ground for his body couldn’t take his sudden burst of energy. John ran to his aid and heaved him off the floor with his free arm and dragged him to the couch. He arranged the cushions around him so he was sitting upright.

“ We can’t just FORGET about this,JAAWN!” he shrieked and then winced. John looked confused.

“ The man sooner or later is going to find out his locket is a decoy. He WILL come after us. In the meantime, we have to find out as much as we can about the locket before it gets confiscated by the government and stripped down to be investigated ,” Sherlock said practically yelling.

John sighed, “ I know we need to research all we can but I’m busy with Mary tomorrow. We are having our 1st anniversary,”

“It’s okay, I don’t need you,” he said impatiently,

“I need someone to take care of Abigail,” he finished.

“ Who would that be?” asked Sherlock boredly.

“You,”