The Mind Reader - A Sherlock Fanfic

Him

Amy closed the front door with a forceful push. She kept her hand tightly gripped on the door handle, and closed her eyes. We were all in the foyer of the house. The inside of the house was as old and broken as it was inside. The wallpaper had vintage, floral designs, but it was all rotted and peeling. The floorboards were dark and cracked. The foyer was like a box, with two walkways to other rooms on either side and an old staircase with a dark hallway next to it opposite the front door. We all stared right at Amy, confused with the way she's acting. She must've felt our eyes on us, because she straightened up and opened her eyes. Amy whipped around and wrapped her arms tightly around me. I froze. I've never in my life imagined Amy acting like this. She seemed so venerable, and almost innocent. My body was fighting my brain to remain still as I struggled to wrap my arms around her. It was strange, I could feel her in my arms, but she wasn't truly there. She let go of my torso and looked at all of us, who were staring at her with wide, confused eyes. "You guys couldn't have come at a worse time," she said as she shyly shook her head. "Casey, what did I tell you?"

"Sorry, Amy!" Casey seemed to shrink under Amy's words. "I had no choice,"

Amy's eyes narrowed. Her mood changed completely from when she was wrapped in my arms. "I half expected it, knowing you," she zeroed back on me, this time with those narrowed, cunning eyes.

"Why?" Lestraude interrupted. "What's going on?"

"Everything," Amy quickly responded.

"Everything? Really? That's all you're saying?" Anderson groaned. Ugh, I forgot he was still here.

Amy stared right at him. He took a small step back and lowered his head in fear. Amy let out a quiet sigh. "Look, I know this is all confusing. I didn't ask you to get involved, I just-"

"Didn't ask us to get involved!" I shouted. That's it! She's been making us go in circles far too long! "If you didn't ask us to get involved, then what was that business with the message in blood on the walls? I'm sorry, but when a wall reads 'DONT FORGET ABOUT ME, HOLMES' I'm not going to forget easily. And what was that on the bridge? Is this all a game to you? You think it's fun for me to think you're dead with no explanation, only to find that you have been around this whole time, involved in some scandal where people are dying? You didn't want us to know? My brother seems to know about it!" I stepped over to her and grabbed onto her shoulders. "Have you lost your mind? Just tell me, why are you doing this? Why can't you just come home?"

Everyone was motionless. Amy stared right at me again. She was reading me again, I can tell. Can she see the desperateness in my eyes? Do I seem venerable? Why did I lash out like that? Stupid! She's smart enough to not crack under intimidation. I opened my mouth to say something, then suddenly the sound of voices came from outside. Amy's eyes widened. I could tell there was so many things she wanted to say but it seemed like her time was up. "You need to leave," she quietly said.

She pushed my armed away and quickly walked deeper into the house, we all instinctually followed her. We passed the old staircase, and crept through the dark hallway. An old back door provided the only light ahead of us. Amy quickly pulled the door open and gestured for us to leave. "Get out. Go far away, and just forget about all of this, okay? I hope you know that I'm doing this to protect you guys," she said.

Anderson walked outside, followed by Casey and slowly, Lestraude. John and I stayed put. Amy grinned sarcastically, she knew this would happen. "What can I do to get you guys to trust me?" she asked with a breath of annoyance.

"As soon as you start trusting us, we'll trust you," John replied.

"Oh come on, boys. After all we've been through together?"

"I'd like to ask you the same thing," I countered her.

She hesitated. She was thinking of something to say back, I can tell. Her mouth opened as if she were about to say something when we all herd a knock on the front door.

John, Amy, and I all straightened up and held our breath. The last thing we expected to happen was hear a polite knock on the door. Amy was the first to snap out of her paralysis. She cautiously stepped towards the front door. As she was halfway to the door, the knocking repeated. Just as polite as the first one. Amy gave us a quick glance, and signaled for us to get out. John looked at me, I nodded in response, we both quietly followed Amy to the door. By this time, Amy was already at the door. One of the floorboards creaked under John's foot. He closed his eyes, and his face did that thing where it scrunches up in embarrassment or fear. Amy cocked her head to the side, and took a heavy, frustrated breath, realizing we were still here. She wrapped her hand around the doorknob, and took out her pistol with her other hand. John and I followed suit and pulled out our guns. She leaned her body against the door, as if she was bracing it. John and I made it to the foot of the staircase. I took one more step towards Amy, when a voice finally came from the other side of the door. "Now, now, my dear miss Winters. Is this silent treatment really how you treat your old friend?"

I almost choked on my breath, and I froze up. I know that voice. I know that voice all too well. Amy stayed in her position, though I could see a glimmer of sweat form at her hairline. "Amy? I know you're in there," the voice seemed more impatient this time, as expected from him. Don't make this any harder than it has to be,"

John looked at me again, he knew the voice too of course. He looked confused, like me on the inside. I don't know what to think, is what I would tell him. I don't know what to do. Amy turned her head and looked right at me with apologetic eyes.

We all whipped or gaze to the door, when the sound of shuffling feet came from the door. "So be it," came the voice, impatiently.

It suddenly became silent. The sound of a gun cocking could only be herd. A big gun. Amy suddenly sprinted to what looked like the living room. Without hesitation, I followed her, John behind me. Just as we entered the living room, bullets whizzed through the front door. I ducked down, still running. Amy was quickly crawling to the back of an old sofa. I wrapped my arms around her and slid behind the sofa. John scrambled next to us. The front door practically disappeared because of all the bullets. The firing soon ceased, but we all remained behind the sofa. We could hear the door being kicked open, and about six sets of footsteps enter the house. John gave a signal, and we all quickly ducked our heads out from behind the sofa with our guns aimed at one of the intruders. They were both men and woman. They were... secret services. Most wielded assault rifles, others carried handguns. All of the weapons were pointed straight at our brains. This stand-off remained for a good ten seconds, until Amy slowly lowered her gun to the floor. I glanced at her. She can't be serious! I can tell John was thinking the same thing. She gave me a reassuring look, and I was almost compelled to do the same. I lowered my gun next to Amy's. "Sherlock!" John said in a harsh whisper. "What are you-"

"It's fine John," I quickly replied in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Truth is, I don't think we will be fine, not with Him looming in the doorway. I cast my gaze to the looming silhouette in the doorway. The outline of a man we all know to well. The figure approached with loud footsteps creaking and clicking under the old floor. An ominous knocking of an unnecessary cane he usually carries around. He stopped underneath the walkway into the living room, and looked down on us like a god looking down on it's creations. "Well, I didn't expect to see you here," the figure said. "Not sure why I'm surprised though, baby brother,"

I flashed a sarcastic grin. "Mycroft, dear. What brings you here?"