The Truth Behind The Eyes |Sherlock X Reader|

Chapter 7

I shuffle and mumble, opening my eyes slowly and looking around. I was leaned against a wall in an alley; dark, gloomy and eerie. My hands were behind my back, tied up and so were me feet. I blink he sleep out of my eyes and look around, scanning the area, but it was a bit too dark in order to see.

"S-Sherlock. . .?"
My voice was a whisper and it shook, I was frightened, and nervous.

"I'm right here, Y/N."
Sherlock replied, I could hear his heavy breathing and I looked beside myself, squinting to see, but couldn't.

"Oh, Jesus. This bloody rope is so tight!"
A familiar voice complained in a whisper and I notice it was John's. I smile, glad to know John was alright.

"What happened?"

"Some sort of injection, and we went out. Now, we're here, tied up."
Sherlock scrapped his hands against the wall, for he was trying to cut the rope. But failed.

"That isn't going to help, Sherlock. The wall is too smooth and he rope is very thick."
I roll my eyes, and a bright, warm light flickered nearby. It was a fire, and it burned the wood is was on.

"Would 'ya look at 'dat. The famous detective, Sherlock Holmes!"
A man, bald, short and wide spoke, holding a bag and was sitting on the floor.

"And his 'wittle friend, John Watson."
Another man sat next to the other. He was lean, long haired and was mean looking, his bones noticeable.

"Hm, yes. Perhaps you'll untie us and sort this out?"
Sherlock spoke in a serious tone, as if he was their mother. But wasn't.

The skinny one shook his head as the wide one laughed,
"Ya can't, Mr.Holmes! Moriarty promised us a good amount of cash once we deal with y'all."

"What's going to happen, Mr. Chaplin and Mr. Petter?"

They looked at each other, confused and shrugged,
"I ain't gonna bother ask why you knew my last name, Mr. Holmes."

The wide man spoke, glaring at me,
"Moriarty wants you alive, pretty lady."

I turn to Sherlock and then, I look at my feet, mumbling under my breath.
"Bunch of bastards. . ."

The tall, lean one stood up and grabbed me by the shirt and lifted me off my feet, surprisingly, he was strong for being bony and skinny.

I gulped as I was weak, unable to do anything and I grunted trying to free myself,
"Put me back down!"

"Mr. Holmes, was if I were to strike this lady across the face, hm?"

Sherlock growled and his hands formed into fists, glaring at the man,
"You wouldn't. She would."

I glance at Sherlock and kicked the man in the stomach with my right foot, causing him to let go and me falling on the hard stone floor. I stood up, still tied and sighed, hopping over to Sherlock. He was already untied and was undoing John's rope. He finished and hurried over to me, untying the rope quickly.

John moaned and rubbed his wrists which were a bright red,
"Christ, so many hours this bloody damn rope has been on and look at what it done."

Sherlock nodded and straightened up, and pulled me in for a hug, squeezing me,
"Are you OK?"

I hugged him back and smiled, nodding,
"I'm fine."

John cleared his throat and started walking towards the streets of London before there was a loud sigh. We both looked farther down the alley and saw Moriarty.

He was chewing on gum and he grumbled,
"I don't like getting my hands dirty when it comes to this."

The wide man was over at the lean, bony man's side, comforting him. Moriarty jerked his head down the alley, gesturing them to leave. And they did so.

"I see you wanted Y/N alive."
Sherlock spat, fixing his scarf that was around his neck.

Moriarty nodded, smiling while staring at me,
"It's not very gentlemen to just, kill a lady."

Sherlock walked up in front of me and glared at Moriarty. John reached in his back pocket of his pants and held a object firmly in his hands. For I, stood there.

"Moriarty, I told you. Stay out of this."

"And I told you, I wouldn't miss this for the world."
Moriarty quickly replied back, smirking,
"Riiiighht, remember the skull, Sherlock, John, Y/N?"
Moriarty spun in spot, laughing with his hands in his pockets,
"I'll give you a hint, Sherl. It's here."

Sherlock nodded to John and he nodded back. Sherlock reached in his coat and brought out a gun, pointing it at Moriarty.

"Oooo, I'm so scared! Mommy, daddy!"

"You should be."
Sherlock layed a finger on the trigger if the gun, his senses alert.

Moriarty chuckled, clicking his tongue,
"Sherrlooockk, remember! Boom. Boom. Boom."

"Sherlock, I can-"
I spoke, shivering and Sherlock glared at me, cutting my off,
"Not now."

I sigh, staring at my feet as John slipped out a gun and pointed it at Moriarty. Moriarty laughed louder, looking at us all.

I grind my teeth and my hands form into fists,
"Sherlock. . ."

Sherlock whipped around and spat at me,
"Not now, Y/N, just shut up, I can't think!"

I stare at him as he turned around and tilted his head to left and right and then straightened himself, still pointing the gun at Moriarty, almost, willing to pull the trigger.

"Feisty aren't we, hm?"
Moriarty smiled and slightly hunched his shoulders,
"Let's. . . Make a deal, Mr. Holmes,"
Moriarty looked over at John, shooting a glare at him,
"You too, Johnny. How could you be left out?"

"What's the deal."
Sherlock's grip tightened on the gun he was holding, aiming at Moriarty.

"Hmm, I'll give you at least a 30 second countdown to find the skull."
He took a step back, slipping his hands out of his pockets to wave his hands.

"And what if I don't find the skull?"
Sherlock asked, biting his bottom lip.

"I'll take Y/N. And let the rest of you die, burning you, alive."
Moriarty hissed and spat at Sherlock,
"Go ahead, I'll start counting. . . 1-2-3. . ."

Sherlock's widen and he looked at me then John. I close my eyes shut tight and prepare for what was going to happen. Sherlock quickly dropped his gun and hurried around, looking in boxes and other objects for the skull. He breathed heavily, panicking. He finally stopped and turned around to face Moriarty.

He pointed to him, at his head and looked at John,
"The skull isn't stolen. The skull he wants me to find, is his skull."

John raised a brow and I pinched the bridge of my nose, and for Moriarty, he stopped counting and he clapped.

"Kill him, John."

John tighten his grip on his gun and placed a finger on the trigger,
"Sherlock. . . I-"

"Kill him!"
Sherlock shouted angrily as small beeping noises came out of nowhere. It was the bomb.

"Sherlock! The bomb!"

"Shoot me now, it's been nice watching you run around, Sherlock. As for you, Y/N. . . You're a true beauty, an angel, a little puppy that follows Sherlock around, because you love him." Moriarty sighed and shifted his gaze over to the sky.

John closed his eyes and turned his head over to he wall, pulling the trigger and aiming it at Moriarty's chest, not head. I watched, not moving or budging from the gunshot, for Sherlock, he smiled and looked at me. Moriarty's body dropped to the floor, blood oozing from his chest, a smile was glued on his face and his eyes wide open clouded and stared, not blinking, for Moriarty was dead.