Pin Drop (Sherlock x Reader)

Bullets

I held my hands up in surrender. I give Sherlock a silent no. He glared in response. Jim only laughed. John looked disgusted at his actions and Mary looked frightened that anyone would be willing to do something like this to someone so innocent.

If only she knew how open I really was to reality. My world snapped into focus around me. I, in two quick motions, brought Jim's arm down against my knee. He lost the gun and I threw him to the floor. My thighs around his head. He chuckled dryly as if I was just playing into his game.

I realized to late that I hadn't kicked the gun far enough away. I heard Sherlock scream my name then a shot rang out. At first I felt nothing. I warm feeling grew in my side and everything became fuzzy. I looked to when the warm feeling was coming from and relaxed. Jim escaped my grasp and made a run for the other end of the alley.

A burning sensation began to form where the bullet entered my side. Blood began to pool. The wet sticky substance sticking my shirt to my sides and back. I laid my head against the concrete below me and sighed.

I saw Sherlock above me and heard him yell for an ambulance which was already on its way. The world spun and went in and out of focus. I laughed and coughed which only brought pain and I groaned squeezing my eyes shut.

"Come on. Stay with us (Y/N)." Johns voice was there now. Sirens getting louder by the second. Noises started to meld into one head splitting noise. My vision went in and out. Every time I saw something it was always different. Sherlock, lights, Mary, Sherlock, more lights.

I was loosing more blood than what was healthy. My body started to go numb and I was transported into a mind trap I wanted nothing to do with.

"Come on!" Someone yelled. "I always knew you were weak." Jim stepped into view. My surroundings turned into my cell. The walls slowly closing in on me. I couldn't breathe. Everything was getting smaller.

"Mommy?" A little girls voice. The room changing. My living room. No not mine. Jim's living room. The foster him where I met Jim. His mother stood at the door a look of disgust on her face.

"I am not your mother." She kicked me. I remember feeling my arm break. The snap, clean in half. Jim's scream as he yelled at his mother. Two weeks later I was put into another home. My arm in a sling. My face bruised and cut.

"I'm sorry." Jim again. This time it was outside of the townhome in which he had been renting. Something was going on with him. I didn't know what.

"Sorry for what Jim?" I touched his cheek and pulled him into the house. He pulled out of my grasp and hit me over the head with the butt of his gun. I woke up in the cell hours later.

"I have leverage. Do not defy me (Y/N)." I cried in that moment. I wished I could bring back six year old Jim. The young happy Jim I knew. But he was gone for good.

"Jimmy." I begged him to listen. He shut the door in my face and I heard the lock turn. My life disappearing before my eyes.

"What are you going to do? Live and get revenge or die a nobody?" Sherlocks voice came out of nowhere. We now stood in his bedroom. His curly hair messy and unkept. It looked as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. His body slowly killing itself. "This is because you died. I can't live with out you."

I backed up so I was against the wall. Sherlock wakes close and closer until his face was almost against mine. I turned my head to the side as he whispered in my ear. "Stay awake!"

I jolted awake to find myself in a hospital bed. I remembered what happened but nothing after arriving at the hospital. Sherlock was asleep on the hospital couch on the other side of the room. John and Mary were asleep together on one of the chairs. Mycroft was the only one awake.

I heard the new paper crinkle and be put down and his face came into view. He was checking my vitals when he had noticed I was awake.

"Welcome back to the land of the living. You've been out a while so don't try to speak. Let me get you water." He walked over to get a cup of water and he put the bed up so I was sitting straight instead of lying down.

I gratefully took the water and downed it in one go. It made my dry throat feel amazing. I let out a pleasured sigh and began to speak.

"How long?" I croaked.

"Three days. You've been asleep for three days. You died twice but you're back so Sherlock will be relieved." Mycroft sighs and sits back down pulling the chair closer to the bed so we could still speak.

"Have any of them left?"

"John and Mary have been. Sherlock hasn't left since the ambulance. He wasn't allowed in. John drove him and Mary here. When I saw what happened I sent people after him."

"Have they-"

"No. He is still on the run. We have not been able to locate him as of yet." He placed a hand on my calf. "We found the cages. The ones in the basement of the townhouse. Your name was carved into one of them."

"I don't need your pity."

"It isn't pity. A file was also found on you down there." I sucked in a breath. I had no idea what it said. I was scared at what he was going to say next. "We know what he is holding against you-"

"Shut up." I cut him off. I wasn't having this conversation with him. I wasn't doing this. "We will not speak here. Some where more private."

"Fine." He nodded and left the room to get a nurse. I laid my head back on the pillow. I felt the back of my eyes burn with tears threatening to spill. To show vulnerability. They had seen me dead, literally, twice.