Brilliant {A BBC Sherlock Fanfic}

Keep Your Friends Close

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE

~Back at 221B, a while later~

Amelia stepped into the living room of 221B, Sherlock right behind her, both of their gazes falling upon Mrs. Hudson who sat in a chair before the fireplace, the CIA man who had led the raid on Irene’s house—Neilson—holding a pistol to the back of Mrs. Hudson’s head.

“Oh, Amelia, Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson sobbed.

“Don’t snivel, Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock said briskly, “It’ll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet. What a tender world that would be.” He strolled towards her, trying to contain his smile as Amelia was patted down by another CIA agent for weapons, the man retrieving several knives and three pistols.

“Oh, please, sorry, Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson said, continuing her tears.

“I believe you have something that we want, Mr. Holmes…Ms. Watson.” Neilson said sternly, eyeing the pile of Amelia’s weapons on the table.

Amelia walked over to Mrs. Hudson, patting her arm kindly. Mrs. Hudson’s eyes flicked up to meet Amelia’s, Mrs. Hudson nodding slightly. A small rectangular piece of hard plastic was pressed into Amelia’s hand, which she immediately closed her fingers around. Amelia backed away, discreetly tucking the item into her bra.

“Then why don’t you ask for it?” Amelia said rudely, falling to the ground as the CIA agent guarding her hit her across her face with the butt of his gun. She gasped as he yanked her up by her hair, clawing at her assailant’s hand in a desperate attempt to get him to let her go.

Sherlock stiffened as he tried not to go and defend Amelia, choosing to focus on Mrs. Hudson instead. He pulled back the sleeve of Mrs. Hudson’s right hand, cringing at the bruises that littered the pale skin there.

“Sher…” Mrs. Hudson said weakly.

“I’ve been asking this one.” Neilson said to Sherlock as Amelia’s attacker pressed his pistol against her temple, “She doesn’t seem to know anything.” Sherlock ignored Amelia’s whimpers, his eyes locking on the tear of the right shoulder of Mrs. Hudson’s cardigan. “But you know what I’m asking for, don’t you, Mr. Holmes?”

Amelia stepped on her attacker’s foot, the crack of several bones sounding as Sherlock looked to the cut on Mrs. Hudson’s right cheek. A small smile tugged at the corner of Sherlock’s mouth despite the grave situation, proud of Amelia’s actions.

Sherlock’s gaze flicked to Neilson, seeing the ring on his right third finger, blood staining the silver. Sherlock raised his head, eyeing Neilson. He rapidly found the weakest points on the human body where—if damaged—would cause the most amount of pain, already coming up with a plan as to how he could damage all of them at once.

Head:

Carotid Artery

Skull

Eyes

Arms and chest:

Artery

Lungs

Ribs

“I believe I do.” Sherlock said, releasing Mrs. Hudson’s hand. He straightened, placing his hands behind his back.

“Oh, please, Sherlock.” Amelia begged quietly.

“First,” Sherlock said to Neilson, “get rid of your boys.”

“Why?” Neilson asked.

“I dislike being outnumbered.” Sherlock answered simply, “It makes for too much stupid in the room.”