Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

XXVIII • 28

Sherlock's POV:

I was struggling. I hadn't taken anything, but the urge to was strong. I knew how bad it was, I knew it would be hard to stop if I started again. I'd known going into this that it would be a test of my self control.
When I felt like I couldn't resist it anymore, when for the seemingly hundredth time I was offered something, when I was so close to giving in- all I saw was your face. The disappointment, the anger, the hurt.. Once again, I refused.
26 hours. It had been 26 hours in this place. I didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't sleep. I refused the drugs, I just tried to think.
I held my temples between my fingers, my eyes squeezed shut. My head hurt tremendously.
Couldn't think. Couldn't think. Couldn't think.
I swatted the air around my head viciously and let out an inhuman roar. Everybody around who were still clinging to consciousness looked toward me, their faces all portraying different emotions, from shock to irritation.
I ignored them. I needed to think. I needed to figure this out.
I still didn't know exactly how this was going to get Moriarty to come out and play.
When I thought I would never figure it out, and that all of this was for nothing, Bill called out to me.
"Oi! Shezza!" I looked up, searching for the origination of the call.
He came near me. "D'ya 'ave yer phone?"
"No. I left it at the flat."
"Well, 'omeone really wonn'ed tuh contact ya." He tossed me his own phone.
The screen displayed a text message.

Getting high again, Mr. Holmes? Dear me - JM

I grinned. Finally! I hurriedly responded.

Bart's. 5 o'clock - SH

I returned the phone to Bill, and jumped up. I ran my hand through my now greasy hair, then over my face, trying to figure out exactly how I was going to go about this. I knew you and John would send me to the hospital. That bit was easy.

Your POV:

"Where was it?" You demanded of Greg. "The drug den, where was it?"
"I can't be sure he's there."
"But it's a place to start!" You weren't angry at Greg, but you were angry. Kenzie laid a hand on your arm. Accepting her subtle gesture, you asked again, calmer, quieter this time.
"It's only a couple of miles from your flat, I'll show you." He made a quick call to his co-worker, ensuring things would be taken care of if he was gone for awhile, then he gestured for you to follow.
He hailed a cab, and instructed the cabbie downtown.
It took several minutes to get there, and when you did, you almost wanted to go back. It was a nasty part of town and you weren't surprised that there was a drug den here.
You turned to Greg. "If you know there's a drug den here, why haven't you gotten rid of it?"
"Oh, we've busted it several times. They keep coming back, the bastards." He led the two of you round the corner.
"It's right over there." He pointed toward a broken down warehouse.
As luck would have it, right then, the door opened, and out stumbled none other than Sherlock Holmes.

Kenzie had known you for a long time, and she knew you well, but she couldn't recollect one time when she'd seen you experience this many emotions in the span of a minute and a half.
She saw shock, then disbelief, then rage, then sadness, then hurt, then anger once again, pass over your face, one after the other.

Sherlock saw the three of you and came over. "What a nice surprise, it's lovely to see you." He acted as though everything was well and good, and he didn't look like he'd just come back from the dead.
He looked awful. His face was pale and he was blinking constantly, apparently adjusting to the natural light. He had two day stubble and his hair was greasy, pasted to his head. There were smears of black across his face, and his left eye was black and blue.
"Is John not around?" He asked, yawning lazily, as though he didn't even notice the chain of expressive emotions crossing your face.
No one answered him, but Greg took his wrist and marched him off to the waiting taxi.
"Oi! What're you doing, Geoff?"
"Greg." He snarled. "And you are going straight to the hospital."
"You'll just be wasting their time." Sherlock complained, as Greg shoved him into the cab in the style of an arrest.
He turned back to you and Kenzie.
"Go ahead and ride with him. I'm going to call for backup and try busting that place again."
Kenzie nodded for you, since you were clenching and unclenching your fists, trying hard not to punch something. The rage was the one emotion that decided to stay put.

Kenzie got in the middle, between you and Sherlock, for which you were grateful. You stared out the window, ignoring him entirely.