John's POV
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"Sherlock?! Sherlock where's Millie-oh Christ, she's not still in there is she? Sherlock?"
He turns round to face me, running his hand through his hair, desperation written all over his face.
"But..she shot him? Who locked the door?"
"She locked it herself."
"Why?"
"I don't know, John," he says, and he looks defeated.
"She did it, to get me out alive, with you, didn't she? That's so bloody typical of her," I shout at no-one in particular.
"She's got no way out. Why would she lock herself in a room with only corpses for company, if she wanted to get out alive? She's got a gun, John."
"Sherlock, we can't let this happen."
"What can I do, John?" he shouts back at me.
His voice echoes down the deserted corridor, reverberating off the concrete.
"Let's wait. She won't try anything stupid if she knows we're here," I say, trying to force hope into my voice.
Sherlock looks like he wants to argue, but he clearly can't think of anything to do, or say, so he joins me on the cold, iron bench, and we watch, in silence, the door to the lightless room, with sickening apprehension tugging at our insides.
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YOU ARE READING
Guns, Games, and Mutual Appreciation ~ A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction {Book I}
Fanfiction"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people do not know." ~Sherlock Holmes, The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle. Sherlock Holmes is a man of impenetrable coolness; logic rules over empathy, and reason underpins all actio...
