Lost Girl 🔍 (Sherlock x Reader) [EDITING]

Chapter 27: The Roof and The Small Girl

I'm going to change the story a bit from here. It's not going to follow the plot of Sherlock but the same things are still going to happen and it'll make sense I promise.

Enjoy the part!

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Sherlock POV

I sit on the cold bench, waiting for the call. Everything was going according to plan. That's what I thought.

John sheepishly groans and picks up his phone when it rings. "Yeah, speaking. Er, what?" Shocked, he jumps to his feet and off of the stool that he was previously sitting on. It falls to the ground with a loud crashing noise. "What happened? Is she okay? Oh my god. Right, yes, I'm coming."

"What is it?" I ask when he switches the phone off.

"Paramedics. Mrs Hudson – she's been shot."

"What? How?" I ask, not my best acting performance, but John went along with it, clearly in too much of a state of shock to think clearly.

"Well, probably one of the killers you managed to attract... Jesus. Jesus. She's dying, Sherlock. Let's go." He said, turning towards the door.

"You go. I'm busy."

"Busy?" He turned towards me, face appalled.

"Thinking. I need to think." I said disinterestedly, rubbing the rubber ball in between my fingers. I wasn't wrong though, I had to think.

"You need to ...? Doesn't she mean anything to you? You once half killed a man because he laid a finger on her."

"She's my landlady." I said, shrugging, not daring to look up at him. His breathing became heavy as he spat the next words at me.

"She's dying... you machine." He said furiously. I took a quiet breath in while the words rattled around my brain. "Sod this. Sod this. You stay here if you want, on your own." He said, angrily walking towards the door and opening it.

"Alone is what I have. Alone protects me."

"No. Friends protect people." He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him and sprinting down the stairs.

Come and play... I'm on the rooftop
JM xx

P.S - have something you might want back. Have you seen (Y/N) around?

Immediately, I leapt to my feet and spun around. This is not how it was supposed to go. I should've went looking for her. I assumed that she had gone out early, because of what happened last night, it was only logical for her to get away.

I put my coat on and sprinted up the stairs, not bothering about how much noise I made. (Y/N) needed my help, and I'll be damned if I let Moriarty take one of the things I hold most dear.

When I reached the top I saw Jim sitting at the edge of the roof, "Stayin' Alive" faintly playing beside him. He was holding (Y/N) by the back of her neck, with her hands tied behind her back. I slammed the rooftop door shut and she whipped her head around. Duct tape was over her mouth, she was sporting a bruised eye and cuts around her cheeks and forehead.

"Ah. Here we are at last – you, me and the small girl, Sherlock. Our problem – the final problem. Stayin' alive! It's so boring, isn't it?" Angrily, he switches off his phone. "It's just... staying." I pace around the roof in front of him, like a vulture circling it's prey.

"All my life I've been searching for distractions. You were the best distraction and now I don't even have you. Because I've beaten you. And you." He said, gripping (Y/N) tightly, she whimpers and cringes in fear. "And you know what? In the end it was easy."