Pin Drop (Sherlock x Reader)

Bomb

I miss just being able to stand on the sidelines and read about Sherlock Holmes cases. His great detective skills and his amazing friend John Watson. I missed just being the fan and not the help. I guess we could all wish for things that would never come to be.

I looked at the window at 221 B Baker street. It was currently completely black. If I didn't go through with what he wanted me to I would die and so would my sister and her Family. I took a deep breath and pulled the knock banging it exactly three times on the blue wood door. I heard yelling and a gunshot and jumped. I was already a shaking mess. I didn't need more stress.

     The door opened and none other than John Watson was face to face with the person who had a bomb strapped to their chest. I swallowed and gave John a pleading look. I was brought in a hurried gesture and I slowly entered the home. He led me up some stairs and into a living room. Sherlock swung lazily upside down on the chair and shot at the innocent wall.

     A bullet came inches from my face and embedded itself into the door. "Who's your friend John? I thought you didn't have any friends." I heard John groan and let out a long sigh.

     "Sherlock look at her. I really don't-." He shut up when Sherlocks attention was brought to me and the bomb strapped onto my chest. He jumped from the chair and made his way over to me. I took a deep breath as he examined the bomb. His eyes bore into the bomb like he was trying to melt it.

      "You need to get her out of this building. If that thing goes out we're all dead as well as the next three neighbors." He grabbed his scarf and hat from the stand next to the door. I whimpered when he grabbed my arm. His touch was soft but cold. Demanding yet sincere and full of concern. "Someone is forcing her to do this. This is not of free will. We will find out why outside where she can't hurt Miss. Hudson."

     "I can't." My whimpering scottish voice broke through my forced silence. "If I leave this home it will go off and it won't matter. We will all be dead." He groaned and nodded to Watson who picked up the phone and started to dial Scotland Yard. "Don't. He'll blow us up if he hears or sees anything."

     "Who? Who will blow us up? Come on! You have to know something!" He jumped in front of me then onto the couch. He grabbed the arm and landed on the pillows. His feet matched the size of the throw pillows scarily well. I jumped at his sudden movement. He drummed his fingers on his chin and thought. "Turn around, you're putting me off."

     I turned around slowly. The fear of setting off one of the bombs creeping its way into my head. I took shaky breaths with the not so helpful instructions of Watson. In and out was becoming a phrase I never wanted to hear again. He made it sound like I was in some sort of labor. I gave him a death glare and he backed off.

     "Sherlock? We need to do something about this!" Watson pushed Sherlock verbally. He was still on the couch, his eyes closed and fingers drumming on his chin. He shot up like a horse on steroids the moment he had an idea.

     "Watson put the jacket on me. We are going to do this incredibly quickly but you have to trust me." His eyes looked directly into the back of my head drilling holes into my skull. Watson looked as if he was about to have a spastic heart attack. His eyes were huge and his mouth was gaping open. "Close your mouth John. You're going to catch flies."

     Sherlock placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly turned me around to face him. I had silent tears spilling from my eyes. He undid the strap around my abdomen holding the jacket together. Never once taking his eyes off of me. He looked genuinely concerned for my well being. With what I had heard about him, this was not what I was expecting. I heard the clip click and shut my eyes on instact. Nothing happened.

     "Remove your right arm. I am going to get behind you and put mine in. We will be close in proximity please do not let that put you off. You need to be very slow and, do not, touch the bombs." He was still looking into my eyes as he told me this. John had taken his place in holding the jacket up to our height. I took a shaky breath and nodded my head.

      I slowly started to remove my arm and Sherlock slid into the jacket behind me. I could feel his hips pressed against mine. His chest flushed against my back. My cheeks heated and I took another slow breath. He slipped his arm in next to mine and I pulled mine the rest of the way out. I felt Sherlocks foot slip around mine to keep me in place. "Do not jerk your other hand out. We have to do the same thing on this side and I don't fancy myself being painted on my walls."

     We repeated the process with the other arm and he squeezed my hand before telling me to pull my other arm out. I did as he said slowly and painstakingly.

John's heavy breathing could just be heard over my own. I was jealous of how calm Sherlock remained during this whole ordeal. Once I was out I turned to face him. My eyes glued to his. He instructed me to slowly clip the jacket back together. It fumbled in my hands a few times before I managed to click it together.

     Once he was strapped in I backed up and fell to my knees on the floor. John was by my side in seconds. He had one hand on my wrist and the other on my shoulder. He was taking my pulse and sighed when he pulled his hand away. "John stand behind her. She is about to faint."

     He did as he was told and moments later I did exactly as he said I was going to. I collapsed against John's legs. They were hard and I remember a pain in my head. I figured I didn't hit his legs the whole way and my head had ended up on the floor instead.