Sherlock ran up the stairs into 221B, straight past the tiny spatters of blood from his wife's broken nose. He missed the dent in the wall where she'd kicked out and the scratch in the paint on the door from where she'd desperately clawed at it, trying to hang on. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Moriarty. He called his wife's name loudly but there was no reply. He looked and saw that her coat and scarf were still hanging up. Despite the sun, there was a definate chill in the air, she had to still be in the flat, she wouldn't have left without them. He rang her mobile and it immediately began to buzz on the kitchen table. He began to get worried. A quick scan of the flat confirmed that she wasn't there. He concentrated on the sitting room for signs of a struggle. He definitely found them. There were scuffs on the floor from newly polished leather shoes, not his or Jemima's. He went down the stairs and spotted the dent, blood splatters and scratches in the door. They'd taken her keys to lock up the flat behind them so nothing seemed wrong. Sherlock ran into the street, looking around frantically, but of course he found nothing. He pulled out his phone and dialled John's number.
"John?" He said, sounding panicked.
"Yes what is it? Is everything alright?" He could sense the strain in his best friend's voice.
"No, I think Jemima's been kidnapped. I've checked the flat, there were signs of a struggle in the sitting room and on the stairs. She doesn't have her mobile with her or her coat. The building opposite has CCTV, I'm going to Scotland Yard to check it. Can you meet me there?" Sherlock said in a rush, sounding more distressed with every word.
"Oh my god. Oh my god... I'll see you there. Who the hell would do something like this?" John asked.
"Moriarty would." Sherlock said. I got a text from him this morning."
There was a groan of despair from the other end of the line and then silence. Sherlock ran to the edge of the pavement and quickly hailed a taxi. John was already there when he arrived and they ran to ask Lestrade if they could see the CCTV. Sherlock looked on the verge of tears with a mix of anger and despair when he saw his wife, bound, gagged and unconscious, being bundled into the back of a van. The CCTV showed the number plate and work began to track it down.
YOU ARE READING
After The Fall || A Sherlock Fanfiction
FanfictionJohn is distraught after Sherlock's fall, so much that he can't even face going back to Baker Street for the night. He goes to the only person who doesn't make him think of Sherlock. Jemima Felicity Jones, an old friend from the army whose life he s...
