A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! It seems that the creativity has officially replaced the need for sleep, so here is another one-shot for you!!! I'm going to tack on a bit of a TRIGGER WARNING on this one, just because it does deal with kidnapping and sex trafficking, also some drug abuse... there is also a fair bit of age difference in this one as well... basically, enter at your own risk.... If you guys like this one, and want a little more from this AU, let me know....I have some ideas on how to flesh this out into a longer fic, but I just didn't have the time to finish it right away....Enjoy<3
"Please Mr. Holmes, just look at the case-" Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes and standing. He made his way over to the window, fighting back a wave of irritation toward the client in his sitting room. "My brother-"
"Your brother went missing fifteen years ago, Ms. Watson, the odds of finding him alive are abysmal."
"I-I'll pay you-" Sherlock laughed, spinning to face the woman as he scanned his eyes over her.
"With what money? Your rent? I'm sure you'd rather spend that on alcohol. What is your poison? Whiskey?" The woman's jaw clenched and she blinked rapidly, standing and collecting her jacket. "Go home, Ms. Watson, give up chasing ghosts."
"My brother is not dead, Mr. Holmes, I know it. Please, look at his case." She left the file on his coffee table before turning and leaving his flat.
He turned back to the window, picking up his violin and playing whatever notes came to his mind.
He played for an hour, trying to ignore the file sitting on the table behind him.
There was no point in looking for the boy, it had been fifteen years since he had been taken. If he wasn't dead, then he was probably trapped in a sex trafficking ring.
Something flickered in the back of Sherlock's mind, making his thoughts spin as he set his violin back on his desk. He grabbed the case, flipping open the cover and finding the picture of the boy. He felt a vice tighten around his chest and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialling the now familiar number of the Detective Inspector that had saved his life.
"Lestrade? Is that trafficking case still open?"
"Hello to you too Sherlock. Which case? There are about two hundred open trafficking cases in London-"
"The one you brought me a few months ago." There was silence on the other end as the DI searched for the files.
"Yeah, looks like it. Nothing has turned up yet, why?"
"I think I just found a lead."
It took Sherlock nearly a week of searching to find another lead. The ring he was tracking was well-organized and efficient, every time he got close, they would disappear, leaving at least one of the boys to freeze to death in the streets.
The boy Sherlock was looking for was still underage, so the ring kept him reserved for the highest bidders, making it impossible to find him.
Sherlock began frequenting the darkened alleys at night, hunting for the boy with the steel eyes. He had been three when he went missing, making him almost eighteen now. He had to show up one night, they wouldn't keep him hidden after he reached legal age.
"You look lost." Sherlock started at the voice that had appeared at his side, cursing himself for getting distracted. He sent a glare at the new-comer, his mind screeching to a stop as his eyes met steel ones. "Something wrong Gorgeous?"
The boy in front of him was shorter, just slightly shorter than average, far too skinny to be strictly healthy, with blond hair that was styled messily. He carried himself with a confidence that spoke to years of abuse and training. His eyes were full of a suspicious mischief that sent a spark of danger through Sherlock's gut.
