Sherlock Holmes [Reader Insert]

Chapter 5

You slept restfully that night for the first time since your father had gone missing, until a crash woke you up. It had undoubtedly come from across the hall. A little annoyed, but somewhat concerned for Sherlock, you wrapped yourself in a robe and left your room. You were going to knock, but his door was slightly ajar. Candlelight flickered into the hallway through the opening.

"Sherlock?" you called softly.

No one answered.

You pushed the door open gently and found a few candles lit on the side table next to one of the arm chairs. A whiskey glass sparkled underneath them, half full. Across the room, another sparkle caught your eye. You walked over and found a broken picture frame. Your brows drew together as you carefully picked up shards of glass. The picture laid in the midst of the pieces, corner torn off. It was that picture of a woman you had seen in here before. There was a dent in the wall in front of you where it made an impact.

The sound of a door opening startled you and you turned around. Sherlock stood in front of the door to the back room, staring at you. He looked tired... disheveled. He still wore the pants and shoes from dinner, but his shirt and coat were gone. He wore a white undershirt and his hair was the mess you were used to. Shadows hung under his eyes.

"I heard something break," you explained. "I wanted to check that you were alright."

"I'm fine." He started to walk towards the door to the hallway. You noticed the coat in his hands.

"Where are you going?"

"Out." He moved to walk past you.

You dropped the glass fragments and reached for his arm.

He stopped. His eyes widened and looked more awake as they met yours, but they were not as alert as normal. He smelled like whiskey and tobacco.

"It's the middle of the night," you told him.

"I'm aware." He pulled his arm from your grasp, more gently than you expected, and then left the room.

"Dammit," you cursed in a whisper. Where is he going? Moriarty's men are all over London-- he told me himself. You huffed and ran to the chest of clothes at the end of the room. It will be quicker to pull on a shirt and pants.

You didn't take any time to think about what you were doing. Of course Sherlock was in danger, walking around the city in the middle of the night, but you were even moreso. At this moment, though, all you could think about was protecting your investment from making a dumb, drunken, late night decision. If he got hurt how would you find your father? If he got hurt... You pushed down those feelings, threw your robe into your room, and ran out of the house.

Sherlock hugged buildings and rounded corners as you trailed behind. You were sure that he would've noticed you trailing him if he were not impaired, which only made you more concerned. You tried to keep an eye on your surroundings as well, in case there were any shady characters or if you needed to find your way back, but it was no use. You were good and lost now. The city streets were a giant maze, made more difficult by the cloak of night. Your only choice was to keep following the detective.

You watched him turn down an alley and rushed to catch up. The alley was a dead end. You stopped, hearing your heartbeat in your ears. Suddenly, you heard a crowd cheering. It was muffled, much quieter than it should be. There was a cellar door, with bright light shining through its wooden slats. Not sure where else to turn, you walked toward it. The crowd grew louder and you knew you had found the source of the noise. You looked around one more time before pulling the door up and open. Steps led down to a carved out space, filled with light. Heart still beating in your ears, you started down the stairs and shut the door behind you.