Mistaken Identity... or was it?
Here’s my June 2016 crossover fic - Marvel/Sherlock. It’s not quite finished. You can actually tell the parts that are done and that aren’t (ie mixed up tenses and such), but I hope you enjoy anyway :)
Mistaken Identity… or was it?
Sherlock and John are in New York on a case for Mycroft as a favor. John pops out to the corner Chinese take away and doesn’t return within the half hour it should have taken. It’s New York so Sherlock knows that it’s not like John could have run into anyone he knows and stopped for a chat.
Sherlock attempts to hack into the CCTV feed for the neighborhood, but just as he sees John being taken off the street by a large black SUV (how stereotypical) the screen cuts to the unwelcome face of his older brother.
Mycroft informs him that a car is on the way and he had better be in it when it returns to his location. (“No, I will not tell you just so you can catch a cab.”)
Anthea meets him at the curb since a familiar face was Mycroft’s idea, supposedly, though Sherlock firmly believes it’s the other way around.
The detective entered a conference room on the 31st floor behind Anthea and walked straight to his older brother. The agitation and worry were clear in how the detective walked and carried himself. In an uncharacteristic display of anger, Sherlock shouts, “Mycroft, what in the hell is going on? John’s disappeared and here you are having tea with Nicholas Fury.”
Mycroft casually turned to his brother and introduced him to his companion, “Sherlock Holmes, this is Colonel Nicholas Fury, former head of SHIELD. Now, if you’d like to sit down, and stop acting like a child, we can discuss this matter like adults.” Sherlock looked as if he were about to argue, “Unless you’d rather not have your partner returned in one piece?” Fury chuckled as the brunette pulled out a chair and sat down as gracefully as a 5 year old who had just lost dessert. Mycroft continued, “If you’d stop sulking, we can have a cup of tea and get down to business.” The older brother began to prepare his brother’s tea as he knew he would like it.
Sighing, Sherlock took the tea resignedly and said, “I don’t want tea, brother dear, I want John back.” He carefully set down his cup, turned to Fury, and continued, “I’m guessing this has something to do with your organization or we would not be here together.” He said this as a statement instead of a question. As he glanced between the two, “Now, I will ask only once more, what is going on and where is John?”
A voice from behind him pipped up, “I believe I can answer that, Mr. Holmes.”
“Who - ,” Sherlock started to say as he turned in his seat to locate the new entrant into the conversation. Upon finding it, the detective became rigid in his posture and stopped speaking immediately.
Standing from his seat near the door and moving towards the end of the long conference table was a man who looked exactly like his John. Sherlock stared at the hand the man offered towards him before ignoring it to turn back and look at his older brother questioningly. Mycroft read his brother’s look, “Sherlock, this is Everett K. Ross, of the National Security Agency of the United States of America, and I believe you will want to listen closely to what he has to say.” A rare time when Sherlock Holmes was left speechless and John Watson wasn’t there to see it.
There’s a knock at the door and they all turn towards it. Sherlock is still sitting in his chair, scrolling through photos on his phone of him and John during their impromptu sightseeing trip through the city. Across from him sat Ross, busy going through a pile of paperwork, of what Sherlock wasn’t sure. Mycroft and Fury were standing by the wall of windows in whispered conversation. Agent Maria Hill led in two other people before retreating back into the hall.
It’s Fury’s turn for introductions, “Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers, this is Mycroft Holmes of the British Secret Service, and his younger brother, Sherlock Holmes.”
Shaking the detective’s hand, Captain Rogers smiles and asks, “Like that character in that story? I mean ‘blog thing’?”
With a deadpan expression, Sherlock simply replied, “No.”
During a heated debate among those in the room, Sherlock spits at Ross, “You may have my John’s face, but your American accent is making me uncomfortable. Do shut up now.” Ross just raises an eyebrow and stands back in mock surrender.
Mycroft basically demands his younger brother stay behind and “let the Avengers handle it”, but Sherlock wonders where his brother’s common sense has gone.
He, of course, follows behind using the new underground network he has slowly started cultivating. This is his John and he’s not being left in the dark again.
They eventually learn it was Bucky Barnes being controlled by Jim Moriarty (not dead either) and his right hand, Mary Sebastiana Watson née Moran. Bucky was meant to take Ross, but took John instead. Captain and Natasha think it’s just a case of mistaken identity, but it’s Sherlock who discovers the truth. That by taking John, who is identical to Ross, in all but accent and personality, it drew Ross out of hiding and into the public making him more accessible. Sherlock deduced that Bucky has never made a mistake and wouldn’t do so now. Fury, smart man, believes him.
The group get John back this time… but what will happen next time our favorite villain uses our favorite wounded soldier to do his bidding?
