Chapter 20 - Moron

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You had just gotten milk from the store like John had asked an hour before. He said he was out and ran into some "complications", complications being Mycroft more than likely. You strolled down the pathway with a bag holding milk and sugar. Your eye catches sight of a tall man, that man was the consulting detective. Picking up your pace you catch up to him. "Sherlock!"

"Oh, hello, Y/n," he turns his head to your direction.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You see a glint of sadness in his eyes.

"Nothing," you both reached 221b, he pulls out his key to unlock the door.

"Wait, Sherlock..." you point at the door which was slightly open. You both enter the building. You placed down the groceries. Sherlock kneels down by the stairs and trailing his hands over the wall. It looked as if there were scratch marks from nails... Mrs. Hudson... Sherlock quickly but quietly walked up the stairs, you followed him calmly. Panicking won't solve anything. "Do you have your gun?" You ask him.

"Don't need it..." he pats his pocket gently pushing open the door of the flat. There stood 4 men whom you recognized from Miss Adler's home. One man stood behind Mrs. Hudson, a silenced gun pointed at her head. She sat on a chair facing the sofa quietly sobbing. Beside the man with the gun were two men on one side and another on his right. Your eyes grew dark, your fists clenched... Mrs. Hudson's wince from the pain inflicted on her boiled your blood.

"Oh, Sherlock, Y/n!" She cried, her hands shook from terror as she sobbed louder.

"Don't snivel, Mrs. Hudson. It'll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet." Sherlock's eyes flickered to the man whom you had guessed to be CIA. "Oh, what a tender world that would be..."

"Oh, please, sorry, Sherlock," She looks up at you, her eyes teary. Your jaw tightens as your knuckles grew white. Your face remained calm, yet dark, a vengeful glint growing in your eyes.

"I believe you have something that we want, Mr. Holmes."

"Then why don't you ask for it?" You remark sarcastically, you carefully walked forward, reaching down and taking Mrs. Hudson's hand in yours. She flails towards it, whimpering, and you gently turn back the sleeve of her right hand and looks at the bruises on her wrist.

"Y/n-" she sobs.

"I've been asking this one. She doesn't seem to know anything" Your gaze rises a little, seeing that the right shoulder of her cardigan has been ripped at the seam, exposing her skin underneath. "But you know what I'm asking for, don't you, Mr. Holmes and Miss L/n? I presume"

You step back whilst Sherlock takes a look at Mrs. Hudson. Glancing at the blonde man's pistol you catch the sight of a ring with blood on it. Like Sherlock, your gaze skims over the man pinpointing main target points.

Carotid Artery
Skull
Eyes

Your eyes drop to his arm and chest.

Artery
Lungs
Ribs

"I believe I do" Sherlock states, Mrs. Hudson whimpers as Sherlock steps back. "But first get rid of your boys,"

"Why?"

"I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room," You snicker at Sherlock's remark.

"You two, go to the car but you stay," He holds back the man on his right.

"Then get into the car and drive away. Don't try to trick us. You know who we are. It doesn't work," You sneer.

"Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me," Sherlock gestures to the gun.

"So you can point a gun at me?"

"We're unarmed," Sherlock steps back and spreads his arms to either side you do the same.

"Mind if we check?"

"Oh, I insist," Neilson nods his head towards you, signaling the other man to pat you down. Neilson walks over to Sherlock and pats his breast pocket and flicks the coat open while Sherlock stands meekly with his arms still spread. Walking around behind him, Neilson starts patting for any hidden weapon at his back. Sherlock rolls his eyes dramatically at Mrs. Hudson. the other agent starts to pat you down going down your arms and patting your coat. You see Sherlock bend his arm and grab a can. The agent patting you down goes down your waist and to your butt.

"Oi!" You immediately elbow him in the face as Sherlock sprays Neilson with a can of sanitizer. Neilson struggles, giving Sherlock the opportunity to headbutt him. He falls back onto the coffee table, unconscious.
"Moron," Sherlock triumphantly flips the can into the air. You bend over to check that both men were knocked out. Sherlock rushes over and checks on Mrs. Hudson, he reassures her that she's alright, calming her down.

"What do we do?" Sherlock's eyes darken, his lips pursed.

~~~

Both knocked out men sat on chairs tied up. Duct tape was placed on their mouths, two guns pointed at them. You sat in Sherlock's chair with a cup of tea in one hand, it reminded you of Hatter back in the day when he kept people in check as you tortu-... never mind that... a grunt came from Neilson, then muffled swearing after him so did the other agent. Light footsteps got louder and stopped from the sight laid before them. "Hey there, John," you put down your cup, a welcoming smile on your face.

Mental: Sherlock x fem!Reader x MoriartyWhere stories live. Discover now