MCR/Sherlock crossover. When someone goes missing, who do you turn to to find him?
I have returned as I said I would and I have come back with this.
I hope it's better than my other stuff that I have done and I hope you enjoy it :)
Suffering is the hardest part of living to me. It drags on through the day and wracks the brain while you sleep at night. So, if you gain the knowledge that one of your greatest friends has been kidnapped, how much suffering would you go through in one night and day? That is how a poor brother suffered and how he vowed to find his brother and to arrest the kidnapper.
But, think of the kidnapper for one moment. He must have some reason to act the way, in which he did, to take another human hostage. In this case, it was because he suffered with jealousy, sadness and above all, he was full of the idea of revenge. At the end of this story, I want to you answer a very simple question:
Who suffered more, the brother or the kidnapper? – Emily Toye
Chapter 1 - Hôtel Des Disparus
The endless blackness that stretched across the whole of England could not have been any darker or shrouding. It was midway into winter and the nights, which had been much lighter a few months before, let loose the cloak of darkness and the sky, which was full of twinkling stars and a few wisps of grey cloud, was now a fierce black even though it was only 5PM.
But the capital was far from being covered with the night.
In the busy streets of London the sky was tinted with light from twisted lamps, car headlights, shops which were still open and huge blocks of offices, the white lights looking un-natural, looking like little dots of paint from a further distance.
Down below on the street, hundreds, maybe thousands of people were bustling through the busy streets and alleys, all wishing they were out of the crowded surroundings. It was terribly claustrophobic and getting pressed into other strangers and getting pushed left, right and centre isn’t that pleasant.
The road, as usual, was filled with bustling cars and old, beaten-down taxis, the drivers looking wary already even though the shift was going to last most of the night. A few car horns blasted out from behind a set of traffic lights which made everyone on the pavement jump. This was a typical London night and among the many cars, vans, trucks and taxis, was a group of people stuck inside a vehicle, wishing they could be elsewhere.
The driver of the van they were in, was a rather tall man, had dark brown eyes and a fizzy afro which rested upon his shoulders. He was clutching the steering wheel with one hand and stifling a yawn with the other, resting his head on the back of his seat then, as they came to a halt, turn round and said “You guys alight? We are nearly there”
A few moans came from two of the mouths in the back, one being a short man with black and yellow hair, making him look like a bumblebee in some ways, and chocolate eyes which were half-closed. The other was a man who was almost asleep, his short sandy hair scruffy and his blue orbs shut.
One of them, who was laying down on three of the seats, sat up, his glasses nearly falling off his nose and scratching the back of his brown locks. With a sigh, he muttered “Ray, you said that about 45 minutes ago. Why the hell is it taking so long?”
And the final person gave him the answer. A long black-haired head rose up and addressed the man with the glasses. “Mikey, we are in London and right now we are in traffic. Does that answer your question?”
Mikey gave him a look of annoyance “But I am tired Gerard!” he cried sulkily like a child who wanted a lollypop.
Gerard Way shook his head “I can’t make cars disappear Mikes.” Then, raising his voice, shouted over to Ray “How much more do we have to go?”
Ray’s head turned once more “Just round the corner and down the street” he replied, accelerating the van and then stopping once again “Christ, I’m not used to this driving on the left side shit”
A chuckling sound was heard and the man with the yellow and black hair sat up and looked around. “What the hell is the time?” he muttered, stretching his arms above his head and groaning.
“5:05PM Frankie” Mikey said, glancing as his watch quickly. Frank nodded and leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. Mikey and Gerard looked at each other and had a brilliant idea. They counted to 3 and jumped on Frank, tickling every inch of him.
Frank, of course, started to laugh like a hyena, wailing for the 2 brothers to halt their fingers and tried to kick them off, his body twisting in awkward angles. “Pl…please….STOP!” Frank cried, laughing even louder and Mikey could swear the cars next to them could hear them.
Suddenly, a can few across the van and hit Gerard square on the head. Gerard yelped and rubbed the spot where the Fosters can struck. A very angry-looking Bob Bryar was glaring at them.
“Shut the hell up you guys! You woke me up!” he growled, folding his arms and shaking his head. Gerard, who’s head was a little painful, picked up the can, which was empty, (Gerard thanked the lord for that) and put it in a can holder by the side of the door.
“That hurt Bob, god you are so childish” Gerard said, the last part was more to himself.
“You were lucky I didn’t throw anything else at you Gerard Arthur Way!” Bob replied loudly
“Why did you hit me anyway? It was Mikey’s idea”
“No it wasn’t you liar!” Mikey cried, slapping his brother on the arm gently.
“Yes it was!”
“No it wasn’t”
“Guys…” Ray quietly from the front of the van.
“AND YOU KEEP OUT OF THIS!” Both of the brothers’ yelled and then fell silent as they noticed they had stopped moving. Ray coughed and cleared his throat.
“Um, we’re here” and he unstrapped his seat belt, opened the door and jumped out the vehicle. The four other boys’ sat in silence for a moment before uttering apologies to one another and getting out.
The London air was different they noticed as they came out onto the street outside the hotel, each dragging a suitcase behind them. It wasn’t clearer or cleaner as such but, there was most certainly more of it. The hotel was a rather large one, stretching up above the street and touching the sky, most of the lights were on and people were sitting in the lounge in the lobby.
Something they hadn’t noted was that it was raining; it must have started when they assaulted Frank with tickles. It was falling thin and fast and it drenched their coats and making their hair drip. Bob raced up the steps, dragging his suitcase behind him, the rest followed him and ran through the doors into the lobby and stopped at the front desk.
It was lovely. The walls were a crisp white mixed with a light cream and the desk was a wooden dark brown. A chandelier hung in the middle, swinging a little on the weak-looking chain and brown leather seats and glass tables made the lounge area.
Gerard went up to the desk and said to the woman “Hello, we have come to book in. 1 room for 5”
The woman typed something into the computer which was in front of her, looked up and smiled “Your name sir?”
“Mr Gerard Way”
“5 single beds, 2 bathrooms, lounge and balcony?”
“You’re number 104, 9th floor. Here is your key”
“Thank you” Gerard took the key from the woman and headed for the elevator, the others trailing behind him. The elevator was a posh one, the carpet inside was bright red, the walls smart wood and mirrors surrounded the sides.
After landing in England a few hour ago Gerard had felt shattered and now he could see how dishevelled they all looked. There was a man inside the elevator in a long blue coat, white gloves and hat and as they reached it and got inside he said, in a rather gruff voice “Floor?”
“9th please” Gerard said. He nodded, pressed a button and the door closed. While the lift went up, everyone began to talk of how their room would look. Judging by the hotel size and the way it was laid out, they though very fancy.
When the doors opened, Gerard thanked the lift attender and walked out into a long hall. There was a carpet that stretched the whole length of it, coloured red once more, and the walls were lined with a few paintings of the city, sea and countryside.
After locating room 104, Gerard slid the key in the lock, twisted it, looked at everyone else with a grin and swung the door open.
And what a sight met their eyes.
The room was large and spacious. In the middle, 3 sofas were arranged around a glass coffee table, a bowl of fruit placed on top. Behind it was a huge window that looked out onto the streets of London and Mikey ran over and looked down.
“Wow! People look like ants from up here!” he cried like an excited child, pressing his hands upon the glass.
Off of the lounge were two doors and, looking inside, they found they were bedrooms, three single beds in one, two in the other, they all had one window that could be opened and each led off into a bathroom with a shower, bath, toilet and sink.
After looking round, they decided to sit down on the sofa and have a quick drink before they went for an early night, the clock on the wall showed 6:02PM. They must have taken longer to get their stuff out than they thought.
Frank went over to the mini-fringe that was tucked round the corner and, with a squeal of delight, found it to be filled with Coke Cola, Fosters, Jack Daniels and many other assortments. Frank pulled out 5 cans of Coke and handed them out to one another and sat down, snapping the lid and drinking the cool liquid.
“Well, this is the life” Frank sighed looking around the room with a dreamy smile.
“You said it” Ray replied, taking a gulp from his own drink “To think; only a few minutes ago we were stuck in a van, driving in chaos”
Suddenly, the phone began to ring; a metallic beeping sound filled the room. Frowning, Bob got up and answered it
“Hello?...yes… all of us?...okay…from whom?...Very well, thank you” He clapped the phone down and turned to the array of puzzled faces. “Some person downstairs wants to see us. They didn’t leave a name; they want to talk about the venues tomorrow”
“We discussed it already with Brian didn’t we?” Frank asked
Bob shrugged “Well, we shouldn’t keep them waiting, whoever they are” and he walked to the door and said “Oh, all of us need to go”
Mikey, who was lying on the sofa, his head on the arm of it, yawned and said “You guys go, I’m going to stay. I’m too tired”
Gerard gave his brother a look of worry; he didn’t want him to be here all alone. “Are you sure you will be okay Mikes?” he asked. Mikey nodded gently and smiled. “Okay then, we will be back as soon as we can” and he, Frank, Bob and Ray left the room and locked the door.
“I wonder who wants us?” Ray asked them all as they headed downstairs in the elevator once more.
“I have no idea” Bob replied “The voice I heard over the phone didn’t sound familiar to me, the voice sounded like they were American though” and as soon as he finished, they reached the ground floor. At once they headed over to the reception area.
“Excuse me” said to Gerard to the woman again “We got a call to our room which told us someone wanted to speak with us, can you tell them we are downstairs?”
The receptionist gave Gerard a puzzled look and she shook her head “I’m sorry sir, no one called your room sir, I operate the phones here and no one has given us a message to call anyone”
Gerard looked at Bob in curiosity and asked him to come over. “But, we got a call…the phone went and they said we should be down here to talk to them”
The young woman shook her head again “I’m sorry sir, no one has called your room”
They all thanked her and went back to the elevator, confused and tired. Once they were back in the lift, Gerard turned to Bob “You sure you were not imagining the call?” he asked
“No of course not, if I did, it would only be me who heard the ringing” he replied. A sharp ping told them they had reached their room floor, they all shuffled out and walked to their room, but as they were nearing the room ever closer, they noticed something.
The door was wide open.
Gerard froze were he stood, a chill shooting down his body. He had the key, the door was locked, and how could anyone get in? Then, another terrible thought struck him,
Gerard shook himself out of the daze and ran into the room, the others coming up behind him and they entered a scene of utter carnage.
The glass coffee table had been smashed to smithereens, the iron frame remaining, the cushions on the sofa thrown everywhere and one of the sofas was on its side. The Coke they had been drinking was on the floor, the brown stain spreading over the carpet and the huge window which had been right at the back smashed completely, a few shards hanging on the edge.
But, after examining the other rooms, a sudden truth hit them.
Mikey Way had vanished.