The Undefined Criminal - A Sherlock Fanfic

The Scenic Route

       Morning dew covers a field. This place, it's old, unknown, but memories still linger. A house stands in the middle of the field. Tall, dark, and unwelcoming. A long dirt road connects the building to a cement one about a kilometer away. About halfway down the dirt road, a large, cast-iron gate blocked the way. If the gate was anywhere else, it would be less creepy. Above the gate itself were the words "Home for Lost Children".  Why am I here? I'm not lost. The field vanishes, I'm sitting in a bedroom. It's boring, a bed, a bedside table, and a small closet furnish the room. A man in a suit strolls into my room. "So, Amy, can you tell me a little bit about yourself?" He has a nice voice. Very deep, but kind.

"Why am I here?" I ask. "I'm not lost. I know my way home. Ask my mum! She knows where I live!"

"Your mom just left Amy, she can't take care of you anymore,"

"What? No. She can't leave without me!"

"I understand. No seven year old should go through this. It would help if you told us what was wrong with your family before your mum took you here,"

Tears were streaming down my face. I don't understand. "Two days ago, dad was talking to mum. I wasn't supposed to hear, but I did anyway. He seemed worried, like he was running out of options. Then he walked over to me. He was crying, he said he wouldn't be long. Then he left. He never came back. The next day, mum packed my bag and drove here. I don't understand. I just... don't.... understand. I wanna go home!"

"I'm sorry, but you can't go home now. I promise, you can and will find happiness here,"

I can feel myself drifting away. I can't move. The room is fading away. Wake up. Wake up!

Am I awake? It doesn't seem like it. I can only see darkness whether I open my eyes or close them. I begin to feel my way around. Everything hurts. Ugh, man I'm stupid. I meet a guy, and now I'm risking my life for him. Extreme pain in my ribs and leg, must be broken. Shit. I try to pick myself up into a sitting position, something hits me in the head. It's like a small ceiling. Very small. If I was claustrophobic, I would probably be having a heart attack right now. This area is just big enough for me to be somewhat comfortable. I still can't see a thing. My hands feel around for my jacket pocket. I grab my phone. Please work. Please work. The screen illuminates the whole area. It's cracked, but that's the least of my worries. I find my contacts list and press on Sherlock's phone number. "Amy!?" His voice is staticky.

"Oh thank god there is service!" I say aloud. "What the hell happened?"

"Um, well, you were right. Their was a bomb-"

"No shit, Sherlock!" I scream.

"Okay, okay. Where are you?"

"Good Question. After I so heroically saved your life, you're welcome by the way, I sprinted for some sort of safety. Finding none in time, the bomb must have went off and now I'm trapped under all this rubble,"

"Oh shit," he said under his breath. "Lestraude and his men were able to get us out of those side drains, but the other tunnels were completely blocked by fallen rock. Everyone assumed you were dead,"

"Wouldn't be the first time,"

"Wait, what?"

"Not important. I guess I'll just have to find my own way out of here,"

"No, stay where you are! It will be a lot safer and we'll find a way to dig you out,"

"Yeah, no. Some of these rocks are about to fall, and I don't want to be under them when they do. Besides, why would you care if I die or not?"