Sherlock Holmes [Reader Insert]

Chapter 6

When you woke up the sun was shining softly through the curtains. It was still morning, but it was late morning. You stretched, pulling the blanket off of you. You sighed, assuming Sherlock had at some point covered you with it. Reminded of the detective, you looked over at the lounge. It was empty. The room was quiet. Worried that something had happened while you were asleep, you got up and looked around. The room was how it had been when you fell asleep, so you checked the bathroom. A cabinet with glass-front doors held towels next to the sink. There was a good-sized sink in front of a porcelain toilet, and across the room was a large claw-foot tub. The sink was full of some kind of science experiment, and the tub contained Sherlock Holmes, curled up and sleeping. Your eyebrows drew together, knowing it could not have been comfortable. ...but you didn't want to wake him if he really was sleeping. Quietly, you stepped over to the sink. Liquids and powders in vials were spread in the basin. At the back of the sink sat the shoe. Carefully, you picked it up.

"He's at a steelworks site."

You turned to Sherlock at the sound of his voice, eyes wide. He was sound asleep a moment ago, or so you thought. "How do you know?"

"It's all over the shoe." He sat up and then lifted himself out of the bathtub. He stretched, and then attempted to smooth his shirt. It didn't do much.

"Is that where my father is, too?" you asked.

"Presumably," Sherlock walked out of the bathroom.

You glanced at the shoe, set it back down, and then followed. "We have to go get him!"

Sherlock shook his head as he stood at his open suitcase. "You're staying here."

"No, I--"

He ignored you. "I've already contacted Watson, he's on his way here to keep an eye on you."

"You're going by yourself?" you asked, surprised.

"Yes." Sherlock set the pistol down and turned to you. "It's the best way to go about this."

"You told me how dangerous this man is," you argued. "I'm sure you don't want Watson to get hurt, but you can't go alone."

"I have to," he said with finality and turned to his bag. "I'm going to go down and get us lunch. Later, Watson will be here with dinner."

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Sherlock brought back an array of sandwiches. You tried again to convince him not to go alone, but he ignored you. You quietly ate your lunch and then decided that you could at least clean yourself up and change. You grabbed a dress to put on after your bath and closed yourself into the bathroom. The sink was still full of Mr. Holmes' science equipment. You set your dress down on the cabinet of towels, and then pulled the weapon you had snagged from Sherlock's desk on top. The cold, hard metal shined under the lights.

You stilled for a moment, ashamed of your thievery, but a small voice in your head told you that you approved of your decision now more than ever. If that detective thought he was facing Moriarty alone, he would be mistaken. You would help find your father, and do what you could to keep Sherlock safe. To do so, you needed something- some weapon- to hold your own. Your father had a rifle at home that he hunted with. He didn't think guns were ladylike, but he let you shoot it a couple of times so that you knew how it worked in case of an emergency. The small pistol was different from a rifle, but all of the major components were the same. You knew well enough how to fire it if you needed to, though nothing could be said of your aim. When you grabbed it, you had done so with the intent to have it for self defense. Now that Mr. Holmes knew where Moriarty was, it may be useful on the offense.

Shaking your head at the thought, you covered the weapon with the skirt of your dress and carried on with your bath.

This whole adventure you had taken with the London detective and his doctor friend was exciting and terrifying. You hadn't had a moment to sit and process what you had been through since you showed up on Mr. Holmes doorstep, but as you considered it now you were surprised. It was a wonder more hadn't gone awry- that any of you hadn't been more hurt, or that you had been able to find your father at all. And now, knowing where he most likely was, it was difficult for you to stay calm. It took you longer than usual to clean up, dress, and do your hair, but you were taking your time. You hoped the routine would be calming. It was, but not enough to put you completely at ease. You were fairly proud of your hair though, tied up into a smooth bun with only a couple of loose strands framing your face.