The Science of Sentiment (BBC Sherlock x Reader)

Chapter 23: More Than an Experiment

"So, how exactly did you know this was going to happen?" Lestrade directed his question to Sherlock as the cab approached the hospital.

"We found the hit-list in the study of the house while we were searching for evidence," Sherlock answered quickly, his usual arrogant scowl returning to his face.

Lestrade only looked more confused by this, so John filled him in. "Sherlock realized that (y/n)'s parents were smuggling drugs, so we started to search the house for them. That's when we found the note."

"Yes, but the note had been placed there rather recently- not a speck of dust on the thing," Sherlock added. "The drugs we had been searching for were also gone- The bags in the cellar had been replaced with blank papers and things to make it seem inconspicuous. The safe had also been cleaned out."

"Well- if this guy was looking for (y/n), why did he leave the note over there and not here?"

Sherlock gave an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes. "Because, he wasn't expecting her to stay home, remember? She was planning on coming to America with us until just that morning. He must have flown out, cleaned out the family safe, and when he realized she wasn't coming after all, he had to hurry and fly back out."

John fidgeted a bit and pondered over this information. "But, I mean, doesn't that sound a little odd? He couldn't have had that much time to get back."

"It's the only way that makes sense!" Sherlock exclaimed, making angry hand gestures as he spoke. "I noticed it when we first arrived- there were fresh tire tracks on the driveway from earlier that day- and the safe had recently been opened!"

"Alright, quit arguing," Lestrade cut in. "How he did it doesn't matter right now- what matters is that there's a lunatic murderer loose in London, and we have to find him before he strikes again."

Sherlock huffed and pulled out the list from his pocket. "I suppose you're right," he murmured. "There's a few more names on his list- we had better find them before he does."

Lestrade and John exchanged a worried look. The cab pulled to a stop outside of the hospital- the sun was just beginning to rise in the distance, casting an eerie shadow over the building.

Getting into your room wasn't too difficult. The nurses had insisted that only family members were permitted to enter, but one flash of Lestrade's badge and they were allowed through.

The room was completely silent save for the mechanical pips of the machinery you'd been attached to, along with your uneven breathing through a plastic mask. Your hospital gown had been lifted over your stomach to allow the fresh stitches to breathe. John immediately cringed at the sight and Sherlock adverted his gaze to the floor.

"The nurse said she'll pull through," Lestrade's soft voice came from the doorway. "The bullet was smaller than most and missed her major organs, miraculously."

Sherlock gave a short nod. He didn't really believe in miracles, but knowing that you'd survive made his heart soar.

John and Lestrade exchanged a few quite words and left the room, having decided to give the detective a minute alone with you.

Sherlock sent John a grateful look before the door was closed. He sat down on the chair beside your bed and took your hand. He frowned as he ran his thumb over your bruised knuckles.

"I don't really know what to say, (y/n)..." He breathed and closed his eyes. "You probably can't hear me anyway...but I'm sorry..." He clenched his jaw as the words left his mouth.

"You're so much more than just an experiment...you're everything to me-" his voice broke with emotion and he quickly stood up to pace. "Just- please be okay."

He glanced at your unconscious form one more time and turned around to leave. He gave a frustrated sigh as tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Damn you, (y/n)...damn you for making me fall in love with you..."