Texting Sherlock

Chase

Multi-Part Chapter: Part 3

Sherlock grabbed his head, letting the paper flutter to the ground in frustration. Think. Take it as another case, just as think of it as another case.

Where could Moriarty take John? Where was it sentimental for all three of them? Pool? No, closed down. Tower of London? No, too public. 221B? No, too easy.

Sherlock spun around, tugging at the dense curls on his head. He groaned audibly, the harsh sound echoing through the empty warehouse.

Got it!

The abandoned wagon, in the abandoned tube station where Moriarty almost blew him and John up. That's it!

With a hop, Sherlock was off running to the nearest street to hail a taxi, wind rushing through his hair, his coat flapping side to side as his long legs made quick advances towards where he could see cars. The light in his eyes made it seem hopeful, made it seem like this was a regular case. However, it wasn't. This cut deep, got through Sherlock's thick skin and nibbled at his bones, the painful thought of loosing John forever ate at him like acid. Is this what the Doctor felt like when Sherlock 'died'? No, it must have been much worse.

Sherlock's thoughts raced as he got into the taxi, blabbered the address and waited patiently (impatiently) for the driver to get to his destination. Sherlock almost forgot to pay the taxi driver too, seeing as that was usually John's job.

He rushed out, the frigid London air hitting him like a whip. He pushed through the crowds of people, seeing as it was starting to become rush hour. He knew the way, John and him had only recently gone there. Actually, that was about a year ago now. Sherlock rushed down the platform to where the entrance to the tunnel glared at him darkly. He easily jumped down in between the tracks, his feet hitting the ground assuringly. Run. His feet carried him down the tunnel, his brain focused on helping John and getting him out of the dangerous situation.

He kept running, farther into the void, his feet not caring about the live rails that were surrounding him. Sherlocks felt a sense of need to find John. Preferably alive.

He stopped at the entrance to the cart. Left exactly how he last saw it, bit and pieces of dirty police tape surrounding it. It was torn in half at the entrances, a sure sign that somebody entered. Further examination told Sherlock that the cut was made with a sharp knife, as it was very clean. The newly discovered fact made the detective even more scared, a physical assurance that Moriarty had a weapon on him. A weapon that could injure his flatmate. What made that even worse is that it was all Sherlock's fault. Had John not been the flatmate and friend of a consulting detective with enemies all the world, John would not be in the situation that he is in right now.

All thoughts aside, Sherlock returned to his strictly-work-mind-brain-thing. He pulled open the door, half expecting a bullet to hit him from somewhere, but no such thing happened. He opened the door all the way, stepping into the carriage and making eye contact with Moriarty.

"Sherlock"

"Jim" Sherlock's voice was cool, calm and collected. Despite all his running and quick actions, he was more than ready for this face off. He searched his surroundings for John. John was tied up, sitting at the very back of the cart. He had a knife cut down his arm and Sherlock winced, feeling the pain John was probably feeling. John's eyes were dim, all light sucked out from them. He made weak eye contact with Sherlock, silently begging him for help. Sherlock nodded, just enough for John to notice but not enough for Moriarty.

"Well. I'll made a deal with you Sherlock" Moriarty said, coldly, slowly, making Sherlock's skin bubble with rage.

"What?" he made his voice sound as repulsed as possible.

"One" Moriarty gave a dry chuckle, "One of you gets to get out of here. Only one. I'll give you five minutes with each other"

Moriarty, hands in pockets, exited the wagon. Sherlock waited for him to close the door, his weight already drifting to the front of his feet. He heard the door slam and in two steps he was by John's side.

Sherlock ripped the gag out of John's mouth, a breath escaping him. Sherlock flipped open his pocket knife and cut the tight twine that was bound around John's arms and legs. Sherlock cringed at the blood that seeped from the wounds, already feeling like the wound on John's arm was going to scar.

"Where does it hurt?" he leaned John's head back when he tried to sit up.

"The cut on my arm is a very open wound, we need to treat it soon so it doesn't get infected" John said, his voice so weak, barely a whisper.

"We need to figure out a plan first though, we don't have much time" Sherlock said, his hand grazing John's cheek, where a bruise was forming.

"Do you have your gun?" Sherlock asked.

John shook his head to the side, pain radiating though his body and Sherlock winced at John's face expression.

"We're going to get you out of here, that's a promise" Sherlock said, a hand on John's knee, giving him a quick squeeze of reassurance.

Sherlock shot up, glancing at his watch.

Three minutes left.

It was panic mode now. Sherlock was always able to think clear during cases but this, this hit close to home, it felt like Sherlock was being strangled.

Sherlock tried the back exit. Locked. Phone signal to call Mycroft. Unavailable. Window. Locked. Lock on the entrance door. Missing. Floor panels. Mended together.

There was no options.

"Listen. John" Sherlock knelt down beside his friend one last time, "there's no way out of here, we have to do what he says"

John looked at him weakly, a scrutinizing pain in his eyes.

"No. There has to be a way" John mumbled.

"There isn't. He wants me. I'll let him have me, but I will make sure he lets you go free. I promise" Sherlock said, his voice picking up pace.

John shook his head.

"You can't die for me again. You can't give him what he wants" he whispered.

"He knows my weaknesses, John" Sherlock said, eyes downcast.

Moriarty came back in, a gun in his hand and a smug grin on his face.

"So... The verdict?" Jim asked, a hint of enjoyment in his otherwise cold cut voice.

"You let John walk and then you can have me" Sherlock said, still making intense eye contact with his flatmate.

Moriarty smiled.

"I told you that the game would be bloody good" he said.

Bang.

[I <3 HEARING FROM YOU]
Did you guys start school yet?
-I started school on Thursday. That's why if I sometimes miss days, I'm sorry ;-; I will do my absolute best to write and stuff but it might take two days to write up a chapter instead of one day ;-; I hope you guys can understand.