The Undefined Criminal - A Sherlock Fanfic

Old Ally

       The quiet bleep of the alarm kept repeating. Curiosity pushed my inner depression out of my mind. Still clutching the knife, I lowered it down to my side and creeped towards the sound. As I got closer to the door, I started to hear the sound of quick footsteps. The footsteps grew louder, and I rose the knife in an defense stance. Suddenly, everything goes silent. The alarm cuts off and the footsteps come to a halt. I can only hear my fluttering breath, keeping me alive. The lock on the door opens with a loud click. The door creaks open, and light floods my eyes. Foggy shadows and white light confuse my mind. As my vision focuses, I begin to recognize one shape moving towards me. "Claire." I groan as I lift the knife towards her.

       The lifts her hands up for surrender. "Listen," she begins. "I know everything I've done to try to help you has only made things worse. Moriarty, he manipulated all of us, I know that now. I also know that you'll never forgive me after all this, but I could at least help by getting you out of here,"

       "How are you gonna do that?" hope actually starts to fill in my mind.

       "Well, that alarm thing that was going off? That's when there's intruders. Turns out that video thing actually worked, and the police are here with Charles,"

       "Is Sherlock with them?"

       "I don't know, I couldn't see on the security tapes-"

       "But do you think he's here?"

       "He might. But if he is, we need to get you out of here and to him,"

       The possibility of me getting out of this hell was tempting to chase. I suddenly realized all that could go wrong. I backed deeper into the room. "Amy? What are you doing? This is our chance,"

       I couldn't think to look at her. Some part of me couldn't help but chuckle. "God, look at me. I'm terrified, after four days in this shit hole. I can't do this,"

       I could hear the shock in her voice. "You can't do this? Come on! You're Amy Winters! Nothing, and no one has ever stopped you from doing anything, now this is? I screwed up the past three years, but you kept me going. I always asked myself, 'What would Amy do?' I mean, I was obviously wrong the whole time. You have to do try. Not just for you, but for me. Do this for me, so I don't feel like I completely failed as a person. Please,"

       I turned my head to her. "You remembered me? After all this time? "

       "I always remembered you, Amy. You're my best friend. Well, you were," She began to turn away. "Just forget it. Im getting out of here myself,"

       I watch her as she walks back into the old hallway. Shit, she's right. I quickly limp over to her and grab her shoulder. "Look, if we do this, you gotta help me. I've got a broken ankle and I have no idea where we are,"

       Her face lightens up and a grin spreads across her face. It was the same, kind, honest smile that I grew up looking at. "Okay, let's go!"

       We quickly make our way through the old halls. The walls all looked the same. White plaster walls that turned cream with rot and most of it was chipped off, revealing old wall frame. The place looked damp, we must be underground. Moss grew in the corners of the hallways. This place was a labyrinth, every corner we turn looks exactly the same as the last one. "Where are we?" I pant.

       "This place? It's an old, abandoned power plant. Charles found it about a year ago. It's just outside the city, and it's barely holding up. We're way down in the storage floors. We just have to find the stairs and sneak out the loading dock,"

       "I'm guessing that's gonna be easier said than done,"

       "Most likely," she said, matter of factly. As we approached the final corner, I can't help but feel that something's off. I tighten my grip on her shoulder and drag us to a stop, and held my hand up as a signal of silence. She follows, and leans on the inside wall. She slowly peers around the corner and shoots her head back under one second. "Stephen," she mouthed.

       I rolled my eyes. "What do we do now?" I whispered as quietly as possible.

       "I'll take care of it," she replied as she casually walked around the corner.

       "Claire? What are you doing here? You were given the order to guard Amy," his voice echoes with frustration. 

       "Don't worry, Steph. I made sure the lock was tight. It's boring, okay? I just want to see some action,"

       "Well, Melissa and Moriarty are handling it,"

       "Oh... Out of curiosity. What are we going to do with the cops after they hand over Charles?"

       "Kill'em, of course," he laughs. "It's not like we're going to give them Amy. Not when she still has some use. Sherlock's here, she'll get Sherlock to talk,"

       My heart skips a beat. This is all a trap. I can feel Claire have the same realization. "Oh, uhh... Man, I hope they don't suspect anything," she struggles to remain calm. "Do you, uhh, have an extra knife on you? Just in case I need to protect myself later,"

       "Yeah, I think I got somethin," he digs in his back pocket, and turned back around holding a small pistol aimed at her.

       "Don't play games with me Claire," he grins. "You know you're a terrible liar,"

       "Steph, come on. There is no need for this," she stammers.

       He continues to talk scare tactics, probably trying to figure out what she's up to. Wait, is that MY pistol? That's my favorite pistol! He's getting angrier, Claire doesn't have much time left. Think. How do I do this? He has a gun, and you have a broken ankle. Great, I love the odds. Ugh, no time for sarcasm, focus.

       My mind brings time to a stop. The walls become blurry, I just focus on my target. Since he's already focused on something else, his reaction time might be slowed. The gun's practically pointed at Claire's head. If I stay low, it will take him longer to aim at me. Right, stay low and move quickly. Do I kill him? I'll just figure that out when I get there. 

       I fall back into the real world. Without hesitation, I leap into my outline of a plan. I slide over to him, he realizes my presence when I'm about two meters away. As he starts to bring the gun down to me, I shoot my leg out and kick one of his ankles. His balance struggles and he wobbles to the floor. I take as little time as needed and climb onto him. With all the strength I have, I punch him in the face. I punch him over and over again, he starts to have a face resembling my own, bruised and bleeding. I stop right before I give my final blow. Stephen coughs up some blood and groans in pain. I can't imagine Claire's face right now. Shocked or afraid. Now that she sees what I'm really capabl-

       Her foot shoots infront of me and kicks Stephen in the face. His body goes limp as he blacks out. I whip my head over to Claire. Her face looks angry, not at me, at him. "What?" she pants. "You were hesitating and we don't have a lot of time!" 

       I snap back from my gaze of awe. "Right," I reply as I grab the pistol he dropped. 

       This is my pistol! I picked myself off the ground, only to realize my bad ankle was in serious pain. I lowered myself back to the ground to get it to stop hurting. "Shit, Claire. What did I do?"

       "Isn't that the foot you kicked him with?"

       My face goes neutral. "... Yep,". 

       Claire helps me off the ground, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. As we approach the door to the stairs, I turn my head and glance at an unconscious Stephen. Prick. I quickly turn back around and Claire and I begin to struggle up the stairs.