Robert Downey Jr X Reader *EDITING

SOLVING MYSTERIES 7

*THIRD PERSON POV

When they all arrived, Sherlock and John began to go on their journey as the gypsies would wait for their signal of exit. When they arrived at the city, Sherlock and John took cover from the patrolling guards around the city.

"You happy??" Sherlock suddenly asked John.

"What?" John asked curiously.

"At this moment... Are you as happy as you would be on your honeymoon in Brighton?"

"I'm not going to grace that question with an answer."

"Are you happy?"

"Are we here for another reason? I think we are."

"Okay."

"Should we get on?"

"It was a simple question."

"Are we gonna do something or wait here for them to come back around."

"What time is it?"

"3:15." John said as he looked at his pocket watch.

"Over there in the rest of the part of the complex should be a telegraph office. Send this to Mycroft. Be back here on the hour." Sherlock instructed as he gave John a piece of paper. John soon moved to the telegraph office. Sherlock was left at their place, fishing out a piece of paper, and began scribbling.

~AFTER A COUPLE OF MINUTES~

*Y/N

I groaned as soon as I woke up from a massive headache. I slowly opened my eyes and saw that I was inside a room, tied to a chair, and a cloth covering my mouth preventing me from shouting. 

"Well, hello there, my darling." I heard a familiar voice. I glared from its familiarity and looked at the direction of the voice. "How was your sleep?" Just then, I felt someone removed the cloth from my mouth and I glared at one of his henchmen.

"You are not allowed to call me darling." I said.

"Oh, is that what Holmes is calling you? What a pity." Father said.

"Where are we?" I asked as I looked around the environment.

"Oh, we're in Heilbron, my darling." 

"I said not to call me--"

"I heard you!" He said as he towered to me and glared at me. "You thought that I haven't looked for you this past year, well you got that wrong. I've been watching you get attached to that detective." I glared back at him.

"Then, why didn't you kill me at that time?" I asked him, tauntingly.

"Why would I? Irene Adler is still in the picture and I thought with her dead, Sherlock Holmes would also be dead on the inside, but I'm afraid it was you who's really his weakness." Father said.

"Adler is out of the picture proving that Holmes' attention was never hers in the first place, which is yours." He said as he moved and walked around me.

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

"An inspiration, maybe." He said.

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously. Just then, I saw him sign his men. The door opened and there I saw them carrying another body. They placed the body on the chair in front of me and I widened my eyes. Father sat on the chair and began writing.

"Sherlock!" I called out, but he's passed out. "What did you do to him, father?!" I called out as I tugged the restraint from me. Tears began to collect in my eyes and I looked at him. Then, one of his men poured a drink in the cup and let Sherlock sniffed, waking him up in the process.

"This is schnapps." The man said as he gave Sherlock the cup. He took the cup and drank the content of it.

"A telegram was sent from here." Father said.

"This isn't schnapps, it's aqua vida. Distilled from potato mash. A common misconception, thank you by the way." The man turned Sherlock to face me and father while he gave the cup to the man. He widened his eyes when he saw me.

"Y/N, darling..." He said softly.

"Sherlock..." I said while smiling at him, tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Don't cry, my darling." He was about to walk to me when two of the henchmen held Sherlock down on his chair. He tried tugging away from them, but he sat still when he heard Father.

"Who was it sent to?" Father asked again.

"My horror at your crimes is matched only by my admiration at the skill it took to achieve them."

"Who was it sent to?" Father asked again.

"You used the anarchists and their bombs to create a crisis in Europe, nation against nation. Under various pseudo names you bought, Schemed, or Murdered your way into numerous industries, assuring none of it could be traced to you. Cotton, Opium, Steel. Now arms and chemical weaponry are all to be shipped across Europe in less than a week. Everything from bullets to bandages. And now that you own the supply, you intend to create the demand. A World War!" Sherlock said. 

I scrunched my eyebrows trying to patch up the information that Sherlock said. Trying to put up the pieces as to why my father wanted a world war when he wanted to unite them. He got to my father, cracking on his plans, making my father tap his pen on his book and remain quiet. He stood from his chair and walked near me. 

"Your boyfriend made sure to get his homework done." Father said as he held my cheeks in his hand and squeezed it tightly. "You know how to make me angry, my daughter!" Father angrily let go of my face and I glared at him.

"All you wanted to do was get me. Now that you have captured me, what do you want from me, father?!" I angrily spat. Father went in front of my face and angrily stared at me. 

"You watch!"

Then, he moved across the room and near his phonograph.

"You are familiar with Schubert's work? A Trout is uh... perhaps my favorite. A fisherman grows weary of trying to catch an elusive fish. So he muddies the water and confuses the fish. He doesn't realize until too late that he's swum into a trap." I looked at Father trying to decipher his message when I heard Sherlock groan. I saw one of the men stabbed Sherlock with a big hook.

"Sherlock!" I screamed as Sherlock groaned from pain, being lifted in the air, with his shoulder hanging from the hook. Just then, we heard a song that began playing in the whole building.

"Father, why are you doing this!?" I screamed out as tears flowed down my face. "Sherlock, talk to me." I called.

"Darling, I'm alright." He said as he hung from the hook, twirling around. Father began singing along to the music. Father began pushing Sherlock. 

"Father, please! Spare Sherlock, please! Have me instead of him!" I yelled.

"Y/N, don't!" Sherlock groaned. Then, Sherlock tried pulling himself out of the hook but Father began putting his weight while grabbing Sherlock's legs making Sherlock groan from the pain. Screams of Sherlock being in pain made me cry and plead in agony. Just then, they dropped Sherlock on the ground as soon as the music stopped playing.

"Father, please!" I begged. "Spare him. Let me take the pain, please..." 

"Shut up!" Father screamed. "Let's try this again, shall we? To whom... did you send the telegram?" Father asked Sherlock. Sherlock didn't manage to say a word which made my father grab the hook that was still connected to Sherlock's shoulder and pinned him down the ground. Father went near Sherlock and he whispered in my father's ear.

"I just got one more question for you. Which one of us is the fisherman, and which the trout?" Suddenly we heard bombing. 

"Sherlock!" I screamed and saw the lighthouse crash down on our building. I lay on the ground with the chair still tied on me. The building collapsed and there were clouds of dust around, making me go unconscious.