Chapter 36

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Chapter 36

"Sherlock, where are the twins?" John first noticed the absence of Hamish and Martin when he went to check on them upon arriving back home, leaving their room to pose the question to Sherlock.

"How would I know? Aren't they in their room?" Sherlock replied rather dismissively, returning to his book. He had spread out across the sofa with Molly curled in one corner also reading.

"No, they are not," John frowned, moving over to stand behind the sofa. "Wait... Hamish's coat is gone. But there's no note and they didn't text us."

"Maybe they went out to meet a friend and forgot to tell us?" Sherlock suggested, putting down his book. John now fully had his attention. It was obvious Sherlock did not believe what he had just said.

"Maybe. I'm going to phone them." John frowned, pulling his mobile out of his pocket. He quickly typed in Hamish's number and held the phone up to his ears. It rang for a while, before cutting to voicemail. John tried calling Martin. The same happened. "They're not answering."

Sherlock was instantly up, stalking into the twins' room. He snooped around for only moments before picking up the newspaper lying on Hamish's bed with a cry of triumph. John stood in the doorway. Molly stayed where she was on the sofa, no longer reading. Her eyes were wide.

"I know where they have gone," Sherlock shoved the newspaper into John's hands. John quickly read the article, his brow furrowing and the frown on his lips deepening. This wasn't good. As soon as they found the twins... Well it was safe to say that they were in a lot of trouble.

"Right let's-"

Ring ring.

Sherlock and John exchanged glances as Sherlock's phone, which was placed on a small table in the living room, began to vibrate. Both moved towards it to see who it was. Unknown number. There was no way to find out who it was.

Ring ring.

"Molly, why don't you go downstairs and spend some time with Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock suggested, his colourful eyes narrowed.

Ring ring.

"Okay!" Molly hopped up with a slight smile, leaving the room and running downstairs.

Ring ring.

John shifted on his feet and moved towards the phone. He had a bad feeling about this. The last time they had gotten a call without a number... No, he would not think about it. What was done was done. It was all in the past now. He – they – would just have to hope. That it wasn't who John thought it was.

"Hello?" Sherlock had picked up the phone first, answering with a grave look on his pale face.

"Hello, Sherlock! Still working with the angels?" The voice on the other end of the phone caused Sherlock to freeze, stiffening like a board. No. It couldn't be.

"Moriarty," Sherlock breathed, causing John to look sharply at him. Telling him to put the phone on speaker.

"Well done, Sherlock! You thought I was dead didn't you? I've heard you've been busy. Married Johnny boy and had three children. I have to say, your boys certainly look like you. I can see they have Johnny's eyes. And the smart one has his... Spirit." Laughter filtered into Sherlock's ears.

"What have you done with Hamish and Martin?" Sherlock demanded. John again requested for him to put it on speaker. Only a moment after asking John grabbed the phone off Sherlock and did so.

"Where are our sons, Moriarty?" John practically snarled, moving closer to Sherlock.

"They're here with me." Again, Moriarty laughed. "And don't worry, they're perfectly fine. You can talk to them if you want."

"Moriarty-" Sherlock was cut off from saying what he was going to be the sounds of the phone being moved.

"Dad? Papa?" The voice was exceedingly quiet, shaky. Surprisingly so for Hamish.

"Hamish?" John was attempted to keep his emotion under control. Sherlock did this easily. They wouldn't help him find his family.

"Hamish, are you fine? Is Martin fine?" Sherlock asked quickly, eyes narrowed.

"I'm... I'm fine. Martin is too. He was knocked out."

"Knocked out?!" The words burst from John's lips. "What's his condition."

"Even breathing, medically fine," Hamish managed to reply in a matter of fact manner, though his voice still shook.

"Now... What happened?" It was Sherlock that posed the question, frowning.

"We... When I say we, I mean I made Martin come with me to the abandoned house. To investigate, you see. There wasn't a body there which made us, well me, suspicious. And then... Someone put a gun to our head and that man-"

"Moriarty," Sherlock cut in.

"Moriarty," Hamish corrected himself. "He talked to us. Said that I was like you. Then we were blindfolded. Martin hit his head on the way out, I think. Which is why he's unconscious. I don't know where we are. It's just a room." Hamish's voice cracked. "I'm sorry..." Muffled sobs came through the phone.

"Shh, don't worry Hamish. We're going to find you," John glanced at Sherlock, who nodded in confirmation.

"Papa... I'm scared." Hamish's voice was now muffled as he spoke.

"It's okay, Mish. Don't worry. Everything is going to be okay. It will all be fine, Mish." John tried to comfort his son as best as he could. Suddenly the quiet crying disappeared.

"Time's up! Enjoy speaking with your son? Don't worry, you'll get them both back in one piece. Probably."

"Moriarty, if this is about you and me we can settle it between us."

"You had your chance for that, Sherlock. And I did say that I would burn the heart out of you!" His voice suddenly turned high pitched. "Anyway, work to do! Catch... you... later!" The phone cut off. Silence filled the room. An awful silence. John felt anger, uncontrollable anger, fill his mind. How could Moriarty do this? He was going to... No, John didn't want to know what was going to happen to his sons. They would find them. They had to. Sherlock would. He was Sherlock Holmes, for God's sake. The only consulting detective in the world. If anyone could find Hamish and Martin he would be able to.

"Call Mycroft. Tell him that Molly will be staying with him for a while," Sherlock broke the silence, colourful eyes cold. John nodded. Good thinking on Sherlock's part. Mycroft's home would be safe for Molly. Because he and Sherlock would undoubtedly be out searching for their sons.

"And then we call Greg?"

"And then we go to the police station and find Lestrade. Then, we find our sons."

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