Falling: a Sherlolly fan fiction.

Falling chapter thirteen

He gave me a sharp slap across the face. It stung, but I didn't do anything. I didn't show any emotion. Three days I'd been tied to this chair. I got a few sips of wanter, and some peas every other day. I knew that I couldn't take it much longer, I had to give him something. One of the big muscly men strided in. Whenever they came, I got beat worse. "Tell me what you know about Sherlock Holmes." Moriarty said, patience wearing thin. I looked at him, and smiled. The man punched me in the face. I felt a pop in my nose, blood ran fee, out of my nostrils, and onto my lips. I spat out blood on him. He punched me again. I blacked out. I woke up to a sharp slap across the face. I was untied, I looked up at him, confused. I stood up, legs shaking. I leaned against the wall for support. I started limping to my cell. "Oh, sweetie," Moriarty paused. I cringed and gave him a look of disgust. How dare he call me 'sweetie'. I looked back. "What?" I snapped at him. "Your cells this way." He smirked. I squinted, not knowing what he meant. I started my way back to him. It took a minute or two. I hadn't realized just how mush damage they'd done. I plopped down on the bed in my new cell. It was much smaller. The sink worked in this one, so I could drink as much as I wanted. I took a big gulp and went back to my bed. I stretched out my limbs and back. I was going to be sore in the morning, but I had to continue working out. I dreamed of Sherlock. I dreamed of us just sitting there, hugging each other. I woke up crying. I hadn't cried in a while. I figured I had a few hours until I had to be up. I just laid on my back and gazed up. I heard a noise, the. Whispers. I couldn't hear what they were saying. I concentrated really hard, blocking everything else out. "But what if -- her?" That was all I could make out. My cell opened. I acted as though I had just woken up. Someone shushed me, and put my head against the pillow. I struggled, desperately trying to kick or hit him. I felt a needle pierce my neck. A warm liquid painfully made its way into my vein. I felt my pulse slowing. The area of injection became hot. Was I dyeing? What was going to happen? My eyelids became heavy, they started to droop. Slowly they passed my pupils. The last thing I remember was Moriarty's face smiling before I passed out.

I opened my eyes. I couldn't see it was cold out. I felt around for a jacket. I was completely naked. My hands searched for something to grab on to. My eyesight started to comeback in one eye. There was still a black dot in the corner, but I could see most things in that eye. I put my hands on the ground, and pushed up. My legs were weak, and I instantly fell down. I felt a big metal object to my left. A dumpster, I assumed. I felt my hands up, looking for a bar, or a ledge to grab hold. It was very dark in the alleyway, and my sight was giving out. I felt a ledge, and pulled myself back up. I made my way to a wall. My legs were growing stronger. I kept one hand on the wall, but for the most part, could walk. I took it very slow, then paced faster. I could see it becoming lighter. I could hear people. The joy of hearing people who aren't trying to kill me is beyond imaginable. I looked around to see the streets empty. I saw a Boots across the street. My legs carried me there. I burst through the door. The girl at the register looked up, and took in my nakedness, and state. I had cuts and bruises all over my body. I had a black eye, and dried blood down my face. I had clumps of hair missing. She gave me a horrified stare. "Help." I said, and collapsed on the floor.