[COMPLETE] ??? ???? ?? ??? ??????「Sherlock」

006; Caught in the Crossfire

"John, can you come here please?" came Lestrade's voice, cutting through the silence. The two exchanged a glance and his lips flattened together.

"Sherlock is causing trouble no doubt," he remarked halfheartedly.

Julia snickered. "Why must you always assume that?"

"Because it's true." And with that, the charming doctor turned and sauntered off. The rosette sighed. If John were a bit younger and were still available, she might have considered herself being attracted to him. He'd be great on a coffee date, she was sure of it! Smiling softly to herself, she hugged her own body, shivering slightly in Mrs. Hudson's autumn jacket. Sherlock had been right in telling her to take his scarf the other day. Her own was merely silk, sheer and thin; it was admittedly more decoration than protection against the chilly English wind. As she watched the older gentleman come to a standstill beside the dark figure of Mr. Holmes, she tried to make out what the three were discussing. Although she was unsure of the specific topic, she knew that Sherlock was most likely making a fool out of them all. Still, she strained her ears.

They were mentioning something about finding a man unconscious in the downstairs portion of the building, which caused for a bit of alarm. Someone was alive for once? She attempted to listen carefully to what was being said, but something else cause her attention. It was the sound of whimpering. The young woman stiffened and slowly glanced around, her maternal instincts kicking in. Turning, she wandered along the isle until she found the source of the sound: inside one of the dark rooms was a boy, hugging his knees to his chest.

Julia's breath caught within her throat. "Hello..." she whispered softly. The young child flinched, startled by her sudden arrival. "It's okay sweetie. My name is Julia Fuller, I work with Detective Holmes. Why haven't you come out yet? It's safe now."

"Don't!" The boy squeaked. He sobbed, scrambling back. He wasn't wearing anything on his upper half and his dark hair was plastered to his head. He looked as if he had just been drenched. Blood was visible upon his chest. Julia, afraid the boy would make too much noise, raised her hands. She carefully approached. "Where's my daddy? Is he still with that ugly man?"

"I-I don't know honey. I think they might have found him downstairs," she replied honestly, coming to stop in the middle of the room. Carefully, she crouched, offering a dainty hand just as she would with a shy puppy. After a moment of coaxing him, the boy crawled over on his hands and knees. "Come here. It's alright, you're okay now. I've got you." Quickly struggling from her aunt's coat, she wrapped it around the young child as soon as he curled up against her. "What's your name, love?"

"K-Kaleb Brown," he whimpered. The boy suddenly burst into tears, sobbing into her chest. His little hands gripped the material of her white blouse. He had to be about seven or so, weighing no more than a sack of mangoes. She lifted him up and allowed him to cuddle into her neck. Softly cooing, her head tilted to get a good view of the entrance. She prepared to leave when when there was sudden a high-pitched ringing. She flinched and the boy shrieked into her shoulder, frightened.

"John, stop!" Sherlock's bark was loud and terrifying, holding something desperate he was meaning to get across yet could not get out in time. Just as John staggered into the room, she heard his booming voice once again, crying out for his partners. "No!"

"Sherlock?" she shrilled, afraid of what she did not know. The detective came flying into view, stopping in the doorway, his face lighting up as soon as the luminous lights came on within the building. They had just triggered the system, the generators magically turning on by some sort of miracle. Panic was engraved into Sherlock's face. She never thought she would see such a calm and collected man such as him look as if he were ready to scream. Watson's phone continued to squeal, the child in her arms clinging to her even tighter than before. "What is going on—"