Sherlock Imagines [ Book 1 ]

Fatherly Love Part 2

Type: Oneshot
Pairing: father!john & teen!reader
Warning: none

You opened your eyes to a faint glow of light, your vision blurred. The faint metallic taste of blood left in your mouth, you felt blood travel down the side of your head. Your vision slowly cleared. You looked around, finding yourself back in 221b. Sitting in John's chair infact, the world seemed at peace. Your moment of peace was broken by two devilish brown eyes boaring into you. You looked at him almost wide eyed, hoping your thirteen year old innocence would protect you from the psycho in front of you. A cup of tea in his hand, his leg crossed as if everything was perfectly fine. You went to stand but found your ankles chained together, attached to the coffee table, your wrists chained to that chain. "What do you want with me?" The words were meant to sound strong, to sound brave, but instead your voice quivered.

"Oh nothing with you." He took a sip of his tea. "You along with many others are.. Oh what's the word? Oh yes, a pawn." A twisted smirk upon his face as you felt yourself begin to tremble. He reached into his pocket and placed an object on the table, before sliding it towards you. It was your phone, John's contact pulled up. "You have five minutes."

"Five minutes until what?"

"Five minutes for your last words." Jim stood, brushing himself off. You looked down, finding a red dot fixed on your chest.

***

John hit the call button for what seemed like the fiftieth time, holding the phone to his ear as Greg and Sherlock climbed into the police car. This time he received an answer, "Hello?" A small, fearful voice answered, the normal arrogant confident tone drained away. "Y/N." He breathed, "Are you alright?!"

Sherlock made an attempt to grab the phone, failing and landing on John's lap. Greg turned around from the passenger seat, John rolled his eyes and hit the speaker button. "He's here." He could hear the trembling, "Where are you?!"

"Doesn't matter. Your approximately 5 minutes away. I only have 3."

"Y/N! Tell me where you are! I am NOT losing you too." He felt panic form within him. Greg gave him a sympathetic look, he focused on her.

"Baker Street." She said solemnly, "I knew I'd do something stupid that would end up with me dead, but I didn't think it'd be at the bright age of thirteen. Two minutes."

The car was soon zooming towards 221b, sirens wailing. John prayed they had enough time.

***

You desperately tried to pick the lock on your handcuffs. Less than a minute. You counted down the last seconds in your mind as Jim walked out the front door, ready for your corpse to be left for Sherlock and John.

5.... 4..... 3..... 2..... 1......

**

John watched as Greg approached the door, gun drawn. Greg looked at him and Sherlock and gave a slight nod and kicked down the door. Greg was the first in, gun aimed. A trail of Crimson on the floor, John felt a sickening despair. A brief flash of silver and Greg collapse to the ground.

John looked wide eyed and rushed in, Greg was out cold. A trembling Y/N stood over him, a frying pan in hand, blood smeared over her right temple. Sherlock carelessly stepped over Greg and walked over to John's chair, a bullet embedded in the back, handcuffs discarded off to the side.

"John." Y/N looked relieved as she laid eyes on him, she too hopped over Greg and wrapped her arms around him, the thirteen year old's head came up to about his chest. John returned the embrace before looking down at her.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his eyes floating over her, he felt relieved at the sight of her. His worry seemed to reignite at the sight of the cut on her forehead.

"He was here. I thought he was suppose to be dead!" She looked at John wide eyed.

***

John's face became unreadable for a moment before he gently guided you towards the kitchen, "let's do something about your head." You followed him, he pulled out his first aid kit. He soon wiped at your forehead with a wet rag, you flinched away at the pain. John gave you somewhat of a stern look and you let him continue. You told him the story of what had happened and how you had picked the lock and managed to free yourself just in time. Sherlock soon came in the kitchen, clearing his throat. "Graham is still on the floor." He stated as if he was telling John they were out of milk.

John looked at you for a moment.

"Oops?" You gave an awkward smile and shrugged, John just shook his head smiling.

Let's just say after later that night Greg woke up with an unexplainable headache, and you, well, you'd finally found a place to call home since your mom died.

***

Sorry for the crappy ending! I wasn't sure how to end it. But there's Fatherly Love for you guys! I should probably go back to homework and my new Pan!c at the disco obsession.

Love y'all

Requests are always open.

Bye bye for now 👋