The Third One [Sherlock Fanfiction]

Chapter 5

"Jim Moriarty?" I asked, playing with my sleeves nerviously while watching Sherlock paced in front of the small fire place. We were back in our flat on Baker Street. Both Sherlock and I were mesmerized in the message that was carried by the tiny note.

"Consulting Criminal," Sherlock remarked, finally dropping himself onto his armchair. Holding his hands together like he was praying in silence, he placed his linked hands under his chin. This was one of his signature posture, which would also mean he was in deep thoughts. I sighed, kicking my feet up onto the sofa and lied there in exhaustion. Sherlock might just as well put up a sign on his forehead that said 'do not disturb'.

Downstairs, Mrs. Hudson opened the door and allowed John in. She unsurprisingly asked my brother about his date. From his tone, I could say it had gone well. At least someone was happy today.

"I'm back," John annouced once he had gone through the door. He stopped instantly the moment he sensed the heavy atmosphere in 221B. "What happened?" his face turned grave at once.

I beat Sherlock to it. "We are just tired from walking around all day." That was pretty lame and I could feel my cheeks burning.

"What happened?" John asked again, his voice leaked with worries and concerns. Before I could make up another lie, Sherlock answered.

"Someone attacked us." John's jaw was hanging open. He took his time walking to his armchair, his brain working hard to take in Sherlock's words. "And Leila took down all of them."

Silence stretched upon us. I watched John's face closely, desprate to know if he was mad at me or just worried. "But how?" He finally managed.

Sherlock groaned and shot up from his armchair. He paced for about another minute. I could see John was getting worked up. Just as he was about to explode, Sherlock spun on his heels on turned on my brother, his pale eyes fixing on him determinded. "The real problem here is: Who is your sister?"

Half an hour later, John was holding up the note that I received from a kid today. His eyebrows were pitched together, and his lips sealed. "You know what," I began as I stood from the sofa, stretching my back and yawning. "I'm going to bed. This is just killing me."

Both men stared after me in disbelief. I walked out of the living room and went for my bedroom. To be honest, I was scared, but I had no desire to show my feelings to Sherlock and John. My brother shouldn't worry about me anymore and I didn't want to appear as a coward to Sherlock. So instead, I went for my bedroom, craving the security and coziness that only a closed door could provided.

Once in my bedroom, I took off my ring and placed it on the night stand. The ring was given to me by my biological parents before they supposedly gave me to the orphanage. It was silver, a black crystal sealed in among the metal. Touching the lump of crystal on the ring, I thought of the mysteries in my past, having the feeling that Sherlock was trying to do the same. Something told me all of these were somehow connected, in a way that was beyond my imagination could reach.

Pulling out a drawer, a dagger came in sight. I sighed in relief and fell back on my sofa. The dagger was actually a joke slash birthday present from John when I was a teenager. He told me it was to protect myself and I was to carry it around at all times, especially when I was with my boyfriend.

Heaving a sigh, I longed for the peace again. I guessed this would never return to me then. Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the moment of silence briefly. 

Just as I thought I could fall asleep, a burst of white noise startled me. I flinched, my instinct and adrenaline kicking in. My eyes widened in alert as I looked around for physical threats. Then, my eyes dropped on the laptop that was lied open on my desk.

The screen flashed and a man's figure appeared. He had dark hair and dark eyes. His features were familiar but I couldn't quite tell why and how. A smile plastered on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes He was definitely wearing an expensive suit, as he stood behind the screen and looked at me.

I could tell it was a video message because when I moved, the man was still staring at the same spot where I no longer stood. His smile dimmed, and he said, "Welcome to the-"

Where he was supposed to say 'game', a hot shot of white nose pierced through the air as if he was screaming the word. I closed my hands on my ears while I dropped onto the floor. The noise was unbearable. It went on and on, until Sherlock threw my door open and stood in front of my laptop.