Lost and Found (Sherlock x Reader)

The Blind Banker (Part 4)

Sherlock looked to where John sat, calling Sarah to arrange the date. He then snapped out of his daze and shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said simply.

"Suurre," You said and smiled.

Sherlock looked at you and squinted. You saw that things were starting to click but you knew it wasn't quite there yet. "Sorry, have we met before?" He asked.

"Have we?" You asked hiding your sadness.

Sherlock caught it though. That was clear. He stored that information away in his mind palace. He now knew he had met you before the case with the cabbie. He just had to put it together. "So we have," He concluded

"Glad to know I made an impression," You mumbled starting to pull out books from Lukis's crate.

"Must have deleted some things," He said barely audible.

You smiled sadly, not needing an explanation for what he meant by deleting. You were well aware of that process.
However, the thought of him having deleted you from his memory hit you hard. A pain in your heart. This had to have been his brother's doing. It was always that way back to when the three of you were kids.
You shook aside your thoughts and set down the books. This was going to be another long day.

***

It had seemed like forever since you last sat down so when you plopped into John's chair it felt like a miracle! You groaned and closed your drooping eyes. You would have fallen asleep had not the door opened and three people walked in.

"Oh dear. Is she dead?" A deep voice asked.

You mentally rolled your eyes and physically peeled open your heavy eyelids. You looked over at the three figures.
You'd nearly forgotten that John had gone on a date and that Sherlock decided to be a third wheel to the party. You decided to stay and sort through books, not that Sherlock had offered to get you an extra ticket anyway. You sighed and pushed yourself out of the comfortable chair.

"My god, y/n. You look awful," John finally spoke.

"You don't look too bad yourself," You retorted, not completely able to think you were so tired. You rubbed your face with your hands to wake you up a bit more. You pointed out the door. "I think I'm gonna go to bed early tonight."

John nodded and stepped aside. "I would highly recommend that, yes."

You smiled and headed towards the door. "Good night, everyone," You said as you made your way down the stairs to your flat.

"Night!" A mixture of voices called back.

You weren't sure whose voices they were but you didn't really care. You walked into your flat and went straight for the couch. You didn't have enough energy to get to the bedroom. So, you decided to crash on the sofa. You shut your eyes and fell into a not-so-deep sleep.
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•
You were awoken not long after by screaming and pounding coming from upstairs. You jolted awake immediately and nearly fell off the couch. You stood up quickly and opened your flat door. The screaming had stopped, and you looked down the stairs to see that some people were dragging Sarah's unconscious body out the door.

"Hey!" You shouted out and started to step forward. You were stopped however. Not by someone pushing you back, or carrying you off, but by a bullet.
The person had shot you right in the shoulder. You stumbled back into your flat, not making it too far before you crumpled on the ground and the world went black.
•
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•
Sherlock burst back into 221B shouting for his flatmate. "John! John! I've got it!" He exclaimed and ran through the open door to his flats kitchen.
When he saw no one was in there, he stepped into the living room holding the book in the air. "The cipher! The book! It's the London A-Z that they're using..."

He trailed off at the sight of the yellow spray painted symbols on the living room windows. The same symbols they'd been searching to find the meaning for—"Dead man."
John and Sarah were gone—nowhere in the flat. Sherlock quickly made a deduction as to what had happened. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stay calm.
He looked down at the picture in his hand. He had the meanings to the ciphers. He had a location. He could find them!
Sherlock hurried to the bookshelf, and paused.

"Tramway," He mumbled.

The detective stared at the books on the shelf for a few moments as if his brain was loading. He was frantic. Worried for his friend...no, scared. Sherlock hated that he was scared.

"Oh, Christ."

Finally he found what he wanted. He pulled out a folding map of London. Quickly he opened it and scanned it. He stabbed his finger down. "There!" He exclaimed triumphantly.

That would be where he'd find John and Sarah. Sherlock turned around and hurried out the door, starting down the stairs. He paused for a moment however when he saw your flat door open slightly.
Through the opening, he could see something on the ground. It took a moment before he realized that it was you. You started to stir and groaned. Sherlock opened the door all the way and knelt beside you as you started to come back to consciousness.
The consulting detective immediately took notice of the pool of blood and the bullet wound in your right shoulder. He helped you to sit up and you cried out as the pain hit you all at once. Tears started to stream down your cheeks.

"What happened?" He asked immediately.

You shook your head saying you didn't exactly know. You grabbed his hand and you looked into his eyes. You worked moisture into your mouth before you spoke, "They took John and Sarah."

"Who took them?" Sherlock questioned as he started to pull off his scarf.

You shook your head. "I don't know."

Sherlock moved the sleeve of your shirt over so he could see the wound better. However, he caught sight of a very evident scar a little below the bullet wound. You were staring at the fresh wound breathing heavily. Sherlock's eyes slowly moved up to your face. Things started clicking into place as a sudden realization struck him.

"Y/n." He breathed out.

You pulled your eyes away from the throbbing wound and locked eyes with the detective. You smiled ever so slightly and barley nodded. "I knew you'd remember," You whispered.

Sherlock suddenly was frozen. He had forgotten what he had been doing.

You then cleared your throat. "Could you, um, maybe call an ambulance?" You asked.

Sherlock gasped and then nodded. "Right yes!" He pressed his scarf against your wound and instructed you to hold it there. You pressed yourself against the wall and held the scarf to your shoulder.
Sherlock pulled out his phone. He explained the situation to the person on the other end of the phone; and, when he finished, he knelt next to you. He looked at you softly.

"They'll be here soon but...well I have to go help John."

You nodded in understanding, forcing yourself to stay awake. The blood loss was starting to take a toll. Sherlock smiled at you and stroked your cheek. "Go get 'em," You told him.

He couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lip. He stood up straightened his coat and then took off. You smiled brightly.
Today had been quite a horrible day, but now Sherlock knew who you were. Even if it was disappointing it took this long, you were still very happy.
Not too much later, you heard the sirens of an ambulance, and you guessed that a police car had come as well. You heard the door open and footsteps pounded up the stairs.
You looked to the doorway and saw the detective inspector standing there. The medics then came in with a stretcher. You let out a sigh of relief. You were wheeled out to the ambulance and from there you were taken to the hospital.