Sherlock One Shots

Oneshot: Fight

A shock blanket was draped around my shoulders as I exited the deserted building. My whole body was still shaking and  tears blocked my view. The cut on my cheek started to sting when a tear came in contact with it. Sirens and flashing lights filled the surrounding area of the building, making me go dizzy. I felt nauseous and my stumach tangled up. I took a shaky breath to stabilize myself but I only made my headache worse. Visions of what has happened flashed by as I almost lost my balance.

A woman with dark frizzy hair and brown eyes caught me as I almost fell to the ground. "Hoho there girl, don't faint. We just want to ask you some questions and then you can go to the ambulance okay? Be a good girl, you can do it." 

She helped me back on my feet and held me reassuringly by my shoulders as we both walked towards a few men. Immediatly, my eye fell on the tallest one of them all. Ebony curls, pale skin and piercing eyes. Something told me that he was a threat. I breathed more heavily as the woman and I made our way towards the men. "Ma'am? Who are those people?" I asked with a squeaky voice. "Don't worry, we're not going to harm you. We're here to help you. That-" she pointed at a man with grey hair and a friendly face, "is doctor John Watson. He is the assistant of-" she pointed at the tall man, "Sherlock Holmes. Don't mind him, he's an arsehole. Thinks he's important and oh so smart. And this-" she brought me to another man that was writing something down in a notebook, "is Detective Inspector Lestrade. They will now ask a few questions. Don't worry, girl. Everything is going to be fine, you're safe now." She left me with the three.

"You must be (Y/N).", said Detective Inspector Lestrade. He clicked his ballpoint pen and scribbled something down. "Y-yes, sir." I answered quietly. I looked at the tiles beneath my feet, too scared to say something wrong. "So, (Y/N), tell us all what happened. The more information we have, the more we can help, okay?" I closed my eyes and bit my lip. "O-okay..." Doctor Watson interrupted: "If you really feel like it's too much, you don't have to." I shook my head. "I-I'll be alright." I cleared my throat and sailed away:

"It was 5 p.m., and school had just ended. I was walking towards my home, my backpack on my shoulders and texting my friend. As I passed streets, I noticed a man w-with a gun. He saw me and came towards me. I couldn't run and nobody answered my screams. He hit me with the back of his pistol on the head, and I blacked out." I gulped.

"I woke up on the floor, tied up with ropes. I tried to call for help, but a piece of cloth was stuffed into my mouth. I wiggled around to loosen the ropes a bit, but it was no use. The man had heard my movements and came over to me. His green eyes were filled with anger, I was afraid he would kill me." I started to hyperventilate, recalling the events in my head. My knees became wobbly as I clenched the blanket around my shoulders. The tall man named Sherlock Holmes looked unpatiently at me, lightly frowning. I avoided his gaze. When I was a little more calmed down, I continued:

"He called my parents and said that he got me. I can't exactly remember what he said, but it had to do with money. When he was done, he took out a knife and started... cutting me. I heared sirens in the distance. Then, he ran off. I heared a gunshot and a thump. And now I'm here, and..." I started to tremble again as I burst out into tears. "And I'm afraid. I'm afraid and panicing and I don't know what to do." I sobbed violently.

"(Y/N), it's alright, you're safe now, nobody is going to harm you anymore, it's fine..." John tried to calm me down, but I hysterically screamed: "It's not alright! I-I don't know what will happen to me! He'll get me!" John led me to the ambulance, but Sherlock stopped him. "Who will get you?" he asked me. His baritone voice cut through the cold air and my head. The name of the man crossed my mind like an arrow, leaving a trail of destruction. The man that ordered to get me kidnapped. The man that caused terror everywhere he came.

"James Moriarty."

That name caused Sherlock to flinch. "What did you just say?"

"James Moriarty. Consulting criminal, à votre service. My family is rather shady at my mom's side, but now that she doesn't want to continue working in the network... I'm afraid there's a bullet with her name on it. And I will follow." I was finally able to look the detective in the eyes.

"John, hail a cab and go to Baker Street with (Y/N). We got secrets to unravel."