Sherlock Imagines

Broken (Part 5)-Sherlock

"Do you have your gun?"  Sherlock asked after a slight pause.

John nodded, "Yes."

"I think you know what to do." 

Sherlock kept climbing up the stairs as John pulled out his phone. When Sherlock was about halfway up, he heard a thud and a shatter. Something had fallen. Or maybe, someone. He listened carefully and that's when he heard some muffled shouting coming from the flat. He heard a male voice followed by a female voice, which he, correctly, assumed was you.
Sherlock continued on, going a bit quicker now but still cautiously. The stairs creaked ever so slightly under his weight as he ascended them. Finally, he reached his flat door. It was slightly opened so he peeked through. He could see the back of someone's head. Sherlock knew immediately that it was Moriarty. He could now hear what was being said. Or shouted.

"You're a psychopath!" You shouted.

Jim laughed, "Tell me something I don't know!"

"Please, Jim! Just let me go!" You pleaded.

Sherlock heard your voice waver as you said that and could only imagine the fear that was on your face. He then heard something clicking and in Jim's hand was a gun.
He looked over to where the consulting criminal was aiming but couldn't see you. He took that as a bad sign.

"That's what I was planning on." Moriarty said.

Sherlock has to do something. He couldn't let Moriarty shoot you. He didn't waste any time and he opened the door stepping inside. But he didn't go any farther. He just stopped.

Jim looked at the detective and smiled, "Oh, Sherlock! So glad you could join us!"

Sherlock didn't know what I do. It had occurred to him the minute he stepped into the flat that he didn't have a plan. He looked over at you seeing that you were on the ground, your back against the fireplace. Tears streamed down your face as you locked eyes with him.

"Sh-Sherlock..." You stuttered out. "Y-you shouldn't be here."

Sherlock continued to stay silent. He looked at the floor trying to think of what to do. He didn't have a gun so he was defenseless.

"Glad to know you'll be here for the end of the game." Moriarty said.

"This game will never be over." Sherlock hissed.

Jim tilted his head ever so slightly as if he were thinking. "Hmm. You're right! But this is the end of the game for one of us Sherlock." He said.

Sherlock didn't respond. He glanced over at you from the corner of his eye. You looked back at him and saw him jerk his head just barely, but enough for you to catch it. You looked to the way he had jerked his head to. With the cluttered mess of his kitchen, it took you a minute to figure out what he was trying to get you to see. You silently gasped at the realization. Sitting on the edge of the counter was a gun. You looked back to Sherlock and he nodded. You nodded back. Jim had been waiting patiently for someone to say something. He just stood there examining his gun. He had been so confident in all of this and he may have good reason to be. Right now it was a fifty-fifty chance that you would live or die.
You were so nervous! You hadn't done anything this crazy since you had tried to escape a month ago.  You knew Sherlock was gonna give you some sort of signal before you should move. And besides, you didn't want to risk Jim shooting you before you could get a few steps away. So you stayed where you were, staring wide eyed at Sherlock. Finally, Jim sighed in some annoyance.

"So, Sherlock.  Do you have any last words?"  He asked. "Or should I ask y/n?" 

He reaimed the gun at you.  You gulped and looked to Sherlock. You really didn't want to do this but you felt you had no choice.