*just imagine moriarty is still alive, also, based on an archer episode. also, this is not the best, kind of rushed*
**
"where the hell is she?!" moriarty chuckles through the phone at sherlocks concerned voice and sighs with content. "you didnt even wake up when we took her" he tells the detective with his smooth voice.
again, sherlock grips onto the tablet screen he found on his armchair this morning. a live camera was showing you, tied to a chair in some kind of metalic looking room, your hair was tied up in the way you have it for work, but youre still in your pajama shorts, telling him they took you while you were getting ready.
with a blindfold around your eyes, hands and legs tied to the chair, you were still asleep, your head hung forward as you slept-drugged.
"why are you involving her?!" sherlock yells into the phone pressed to his face, and moriarty laughd once again, "do you not know?" he asks smoothly, surprised, "jeez, you really are dumb" he chuckles,"maybe... when this is finished... youll understand" he says, sighing in the end.
sometime this morning, someone got into sherlock and yours flat and kiddnapped you, tying you and putting you in that room that sherlock could see, but not where you are.
"shes about 10 feet below that" moriarty finally tells the anxious man-child, showing a generator running an air pump in the desert, "-and tgat pumps air into that cell you saw" he chuckles, proud of himself.
"now you listen to me you li-" "but remember sherlock, we dont have a lot of time, because that pump has only enough fuel for... 8 hours?" moriarty stops him, and sherlock could practically hear his smirk.
sherlock closes his mouth and growls lowly, "well, go look in your kitchen, if you want to save her from dying in the middle of no where. ill be here on the line, if you get bored... or give up" moriarty says, and sherlock stomps to his kitchen to find bottles, powders, flasks, beakrs, and all types of lab equipment.
sighing, sherlock falls in his chair and looks around the mess on his kitchen table, trying to find what moriarty wants him to do to save you.
**
when you open your eyes finally, theres still darkness. what? you try to move, but now you feel it, your hands tied behind you, your feet stuck in place. what the hell?
it didnt take you long to understand that youre not in your bed, neither at work. it smells strange here. taken. kidnapped. being sherlocks roommate, you were ready for things like this. thats the price you payed for being sherlocks friend.
"who are you? what do you want? why wont you answer me?" you ask out in hopes of getting an answer. when theres not one, you start screamimg again.
sighing, you stop screaming. theres no point in screaming, you could hear your voice hitting the walls in the place you were in. your wrists hurt as well as your head pounding from the cloroform your kiddnappers used on you this morning.
**
"how are you doing sherlock?" moriarty sang through the phone, 2 hours later already. sherlock sighs, annoyed, but doesnt reply, keeps working on the chemicals the phsycopath gave him.
"just look at her... ha ha!" moriarty chuckles with a cheery voice, and sherlock gets up quickly, speed walking to the sitting room again, scrammbling for the tablet on the sofa.
looking at the screen, sherlock sees you struggling in the chair, still tied up, trying to kick while shouting as well. he couldnt hear your shouts, but just seeing you like this did something to him, and he quickly returns to his desk.
**
"my god, get it together {Y/N}!" you shout at yourself, sighing deeply and straighting your back. "youve been in tighter spots than this... lavenham, baskerville, ugh, sherrinford?!" you rolled your eyes under the blindfold, remembering the day.
at least this time youre not hooked up to a car battery, or up to your ankles in camel blood. you think to yourself about your past endevours with sherlock. and whoever these bastards are, they must not want me dead just yet... this is because of sherlock...
even though you loved sherlock-maybe a bit more than you cared to admit-you couldnt care much for these things. your boss starts to think youre just skipping work, and all of your stories are just stories.
i will kill him.
"cant hear anything... although i can feel just the slightest draft, but--" you take a deep breath through your nose, sniffing the air around you. "hmm... maybe a hint of diesel? doesnt help much, that could be anywhere" you sigh, mummbling to yourself your thoughts.
"although... anywhere usually has some kind of sounds. traffic, birds... a train. heres just nothing..." your eyebrows rise in surprise an annoyance, "could i be underground?"
"i suppose theres really no telling, thats what you get for living with sherlock" you sigh and give yourself a smirk. "but im not staying here... sherlock needs a talking to" sudennly, you wonder is sherlock is ok... if he was taken and if he is in a close position to yours.
ot if hes still asleep in his room, yet to know you wete kidnapped by one of his friends for their fun. probably.
step one. luckily for you, you already did your hair this morning for work, you could feel it tied up, so you start shaking your head vigouresly, until the bobby pins fell from your head and onto the metalic floor of the room.
step two. taking a deep breath, you tilt the chair and with it fall on the ground hard, hitting your shoulder and grunting. "step two is always a bitch..." you sigh.
step three. you pull your knees up as far as you could, and with the chair you crawled on your side on the ground, the chair scraping the floor as you turtled on your left side on the ground, bound to the chair.
"well... step three is no prize" you groan as you move forward until you feel on your cheek something different, cold. "aha!" you call with a smile and crawl faster with new found hope until the bobby pin is just at your bound hands.
swinging the chair, you grab the pin in your fingers. "now, for these damn cuffs..." you groan as you start sturggling with it, looking for the key hole on the cuffs, rubbing and mashing the bobby pin in there until the cuffs let go and... free!!
"aha!" you call with happiness as you pull your hands up and to your face. "now just to see where the hell i am..." you mummble and pull with tired wrists the blindfold off of your eyes to find a metalic, reletively small room, dark.
but the best part was the red writing on the wall."sherlock is to blame for this."
"oh for the love..." you call, annyed, as you start fummling with the shackles around your ankles, "although, no matter who or what ends up killing me, you could probably paint that on the wall... the idiot" you curse, scrunching your nose.
**
"tick tock, tick tock" moriarty chimes through the phone, laughing, "i think your baby is running out of both time, and oxygen" he remarks.
sighing, sherlock leans back from the microscope, rubbing his eyes and streching his back. even though he would love to hang up on moriarty, he knew that he had to keep it on if he wanted to hear you being released.
like this, he gets up and walks to the sitting room, picking up the tablet. but instead of seeing you bound to a chair, he sees you standing on the chair, cuffs lying on the floor, and you opening the valve on the cieling that leads to the huge pipe thats in the cieling.
**
"first, im taking a long, hot bath" you exhale as you look up your way, jumping up and grabbing onto the sides of the pipe and crawling up, using feet and hands on opposite sides of the pipe, "and then, im going to kill everyone!"
when you finally get to the end of the pipe, you open it up and crawl out of it to stand in the middle of nowhere. the sun is already setting by now, and this rural setting looks almost abandoned except for the road on your left. and the huge generator that was sitting above your head.
sighing, you drag your feet after you to the road and wait for someone, until a huge truck passes by. you jump and wave your arms until the truck stops.
the trucker rolls down his window, and a red neck man looks down to you, pajamas and messy hair. "evenin'" the trucker greets. "ill give you a 1000 pounds for a ride to the nearest bar" you call up, and he laughs.
"w-what... oh, shit, yeah lady, climb on up" he calls, and you do so, getting into the huge truck. "thank you" you huff as you sit down.
he chuckles, looking you up and down, "thank you! a 1000 pounds? youre either crazy or rich or both" he laughs. "well, i dont have it on me now obviously... but-" you mummble,
"oh, i betcha we can work something out" he sets his hand on your thigh gently. you clear your throat and raise an eyebrow, and he gives you a side smile.
sighing, you punch him with your right in the face, and elbow him in the throat before opening his side of the truck and kicking him out of it onto the road as he groaned and coughed.
"you like an elbow to the throat? shitheel" with that, you step on the gass pedal and drive out of there.
**
you drag your feet up the stairs, and finally, slam the door to your flat open. youre sweaty, messy, tired, and angry, but the second sherlock sees you enter the flat, he jumps up and hugs you tightly, holding you to his chest as he swayed you to either side, ignoring your smell and your complaints.
"now you let go of me you prick, i need to shower" you conclude your complains and start walking over to the bathroom, but sherlock is quick at your heels, holding onto you.
"im not leaving you {Y/N}" he says, and like this, he ends up sitting on the side of the tun while you sat in it, soaking in the warm water.
***
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yours, the red demon♧