Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

XXI • 21

A/N - While this is completely different dialogue from the pool scene in The Great Game, there are certain sentences that are similar, so bear with me <3

******

Your POV:

11:30 PM

There was a knock on your door.
You glanced at your clock, bleary eyed. "Sherlock! I'm trying to sleep!" You called, your voice muffled by your pillow.
The door opened anyway, so you groaned and rolled over.
"Whadaya wan-" The last thing you saw was a hulking shape leaning over you. Then you blacked out.

******

Sherlock's POV:

At the pool

"She has nothing to do with this." I growled.

So this is why Mycroft always insisted sentiment would be the death of me.

"No, of course she doesn't, she's innocent." Jim smiled. "But she's leverage. Incentive." At this moment, four red dots appeared on your forehead. You squirmed, but dared not make a sound.
"You're insane!" I felt my face twist up. I was angry now.
"I know, I know. It is a weakness with me. But to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness." Jim smiled.
"If you're looking to take me down during a battle of our minds, only a coward would bother using leverage like that." I nodded toward you, but didn't take my eyes off Jim.
"Oh, you're good!" Jim grinned.
"But you see, it's not cowardly. It's forethought. I knew that threatening her would cause you to think less efficiently. Because even if you don't want to admit it, Sherlock, sentiment really does rot the brain. You should've listened to your big brother." He shook his head sadly.
"I don't need to listen to my brother. I never have."
"I'm just saying that if you hadn't let her-"
"I could kill you right now." I cut in, pulling a Browning from my pocket.
"You wouldn't!" Jim said in mock worry.
"Yes," I pointed it at Jim's head and cocked it. "I would."
Jim's face turned to ice once again. "That would end badly for all three of us." With that, two of the four rifles trained on you moved to my chest. I swallowed hard but kept the gun steady, my eyes never moving.
Jim glared at me for several moments, then his face softened. "See? You wouldn't." He smirked. "I really must be off now." He turned to leave but looked back. "Oh and Sherlock, this is hardly over. We are not through, you and I."

As soon as Jim had left, I fell to my knees in front of you, working quickly to untie the ropes that bound you. I got your hands loose first and you reached up and pulled the gag off your mouth.

Your POV:

The shock of the whole situation hit you full force then, and it wasn't long before tears were streaming down your face.
"I'm so-so sss-sorry." You sobbed, "Ji-Jim. He-"
He cut you off. "It's over now. Crying about it won't help." He looked at you sternly, and you knew he was right. Blubbering about something that couldn't be changed was worthless.
You stood on wobbly legs, bracing yourself against the wall. Your head hurt and your wrists were raw, but you were glad to be alive.
"Come." Sherlock said flatly, heading toward the door.
You attempted to follow him, but immediately fell to your knees, suddenly overcome by dizziness. Sherlock heard you fall and looked back.
"Are you okay?" He asked, just a slight hint of concern in his voice.
"I'm really... dizzy." You mumbled, sitting on the floor with your head down.
"Take my hand." Sherlock commanded.
You looked up to see him towering over you, his hand extended toward you. You took his hand and held on tight as he pulled you up.
He supported you with his arm.
"What do you feel?"
"M-my head hurts, I'm dizzy. Can't walk straight. My ears... ringing."
"Concussion." He responded. "When we get home, I want you to rest."
You didn't argue. Bed would've been music to your ears had they not been ringing so loud.
Sherlock supported you all the way to the kerb, then hailed a taxi.
He helped you in then got in on the other side.
You laid your head back and closed your eyes. With the aid of the slight vibration of the taxi, you fell asleep almost immediately.

******

"(N/N), wake up." Sherlock shook your shoulder gently. You blinked owlishly at him and yawned.
He gave you his arm once again, and you pulled yourself out of the cab with a bit of difficulty.
The door was unlocked and you heard Sherlock mutter, "Oh God."
He helped you to your flat. The door was ajar and suddenly you felt more alert.
But the thing that actually woke you up was John's furious bellow.
"What the HECK happened? Where have you been? I texted you over and over only to discover your phone IN THE FLAT. And then I find Mackenzie passed out in (F/N)'s flat."
You turned and he saw your wound. He rushed toward you and grabbed your shoulders. You winced.
"Oh God, (N/N). What happened?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Sherlock, angry once again.
"What did you do to my sister?" He growled, suddenly quiet, which you knew meant he was livid.
Sherlock took a deep breath.
"I was out. I did not take (F/N) with me. I left late and she was already asleep. I had gone to confront Moriarty." He sighed. "Apparently he decided it would be a good idea to use (F/N) as leverage." Turning to you, he asked, "Do you remember anything?"
"Someone knocked on my door at about 11:30. I guess I thought it was you, so I just yelled for them to come in. I saw a dark shape leaning over me and then I was out. Woke up in the pool room." You answered, timidly.
Sherlock turned back to John. He was steaming but he said no more.
Finally he turned to you once again and said, "Let's go get that cleaned up." He nodded to the cut on your forehead. You complied, allowing him into your flat, where he immediately went to the kitchen and dampened a napkin.
Suddenly his words about Kenzie hit you full force.
"Where's Kenzie?" You asked, increasingly worried.
"I brought her to the hospital. I couldn't get her to come round."
"Where?" You demanded, no longer concerned about your own injury.
"(N/N), You can't go now. It's nearly one in the morning."
"So? This is my best friend we're talking about. If she's hurt I'm going to see her." You looked at John with that 'I mean business' glare. He couldn't argue.