Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

L • 50

Sherlock's POV:

Running. Running. Running.
I ran blind through the damp night, throwing glances over my shoulder every chance I got. I could hear the men shouting in German- not very nice things- and the baying of their hounds. They seemed to be distant, but no one could know for sure.
I looked back toward my path, just in time to leap over a fallen tree. I zigzagged through the forest, ignoring the pain of every fall of my bare feet. I had no idea where I was going- this remote forest in Berlin was one of the few places I didn't have a map of in my head, and even if I did, I wouldn't have been worried about using it right now- I just needed to lose them.
I came to a clearing, but before I could dash through, I suddenly found myself surrounded on three sides, the men and dogs who'd been directly chasing me coming up behind.
I gave a short cry of frustration, then fell to my knees and put my hands on my head. I needed to get out of here and find Mycroft. I needed his resources and connections to get John out of prison. I needed to get away but I wasn't about to risk getting shot. Not after everything I'd done to survive.

A young German soldier stepped up to me and grabbed my wrist.
"Aufstehen! (Get up!)" He spat.
I did as I was told, and got one good look at the young man before my arms were wrenched behind my back, my wrists cuffed, and my head shoved down.
He wasn't over 22, and he'd been drafted into the BND* by the recommendation of his father. He'd never wanted to be a soldier. Despite the fact that he would play a major role in the torture that I knew was imminent, I felt sorry for him.
"Mitkommen. (Come.)" He spoke in a gentler tone now that he knew I had no intention of resisting.

He and two other soldiers marched me toward an ATV which had been called to the spot, and they drove me back toward the BND headquarters which I had just escaped.
One step forward and two steps back, but I was so close to dismantling Moriarty for good. This was the last string in his criminal web, but it was unfortunately an incredibly sticky one. He'd woven himself so deep into the German Intelligence Agency that I'd had to visit Germany thrice already, when it had only taken one visit to Switzerland, France, Italy and so forth.
I was so close to done, however, that the threat that loomed before me now didn't faze me at all.
You were my motivation. You and John.

By this time we had arrived, and two foot soldiers opened the tall wooden gates for the ATV, which only slowed a little as we approached.
I sighed. This place was all too familiar to me at this point.
The same young soldier who had collected me led me into the building, his hand gripping one of my cuffed wrists.
He and three other soldiers took me to the guts of the crude establishment, marching me down flight after flight of concrete steps. They seemed to be lacking a lift.
I read all I could from my young captor, knowing that I'd need the information soon enough.
We halted in front of a simple metal desk, behind which sat a middle aged man dressed in a fur overcoat. When he looked up, he assumed an air of menace, although he seemed to have been playing some sort of a game on his mobile phone. I suppressed a snort.
He narrowed his eyes at me.
"Sag es mir, warum du hier bist. (Tell me why you are here.)" He snarled.
I shook my head. "Nein. (No.)"
He startled, but recovered his intimidating manner quickly enough.
I didn't need long to see that he was not at all used to being challenged by a prisoner. Most every one of them was more afraid of the threat of torture than that of telling him what their purpose was.
"Bring ihn in die Kammer. (Take him to the chamber.)" He spluttered.
I grimaced, but still did not attempt to break away from the firm grip of the young soldier.
He gave me a sorrowful look, although it was laced with respect. It was evidently the first time he'd ever seen blatant defiance from a prisoner as well.
The 'chamber' as it was called, was just down the hall. When the door was opened and I was shoved in, followed by my captor and the three other soldiers, I realised that the name was no exaggeration.
It was a small room, the only light coming from a dim incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling. Inside were two poles, just under two metres tall and apart from one another, steel cuffs attached to each, ten inches from the top.
I grimaced again when I realised exactly what the purpose of this contraption was.
There was a shelf piled with different implements of beating the prisoner. Whips, pipes, blunt sticks. For a second, I remembered the times I'd taken similar tools to a dead body for the sake of an experiment.
'You're not supposed to do it on live humans.'
I thought, with an inward groan.

The young soldier, who had escorted me so far, unlocked my cuffs and allowed me to stretch my arms and rub my wrists.
I was then rid of my jacket and shirt and two of the soldiers restrained me while two more cuffed me between the two poles.
I didn't resist. I'd expected this the moment I'd been overtaken in the clearing. I couldn't tell them what my purpose was, and this is what they did to the people who refused to tell them what they wanted to hear.
I was already in pain, the metal of the cuffs digging into my raw wrists, but I clenched my teeth and put my head down.
I would endure this. For you.

The young soldier who had taken me this far- I still didn't resent him- grabbed my hair and pulled my head up, although he did it as gently as he could. I could tell that he felt as bad for me as I did for him. He whispered through his teeth at me, so that the other three couldn't hear.
"Ich mache es dir leicht. Sag es mir, warum du hier bist und ich werde dir nicht weh tun. (I'll make this easy for you. Tell me why you are here and I won't hurt you.)"
It wasn't a threat, it was a genuine attempt to get out of hurting me, as he'd begun to like and respect me.
I couldn't tell him though.
I shook my head once again. "Ich kann nicht. (I can not)"
I looked directly at him when I spoke, and I could see the disappointment and pain in his eyes. He had to follow orders.
He let go of my hair and lashed me across the middle of my back with a short bull whip.
I cried out in pain, despite my efforts not to. It hurt far more than I'd expected, and it burned after the initial impact. It came down again, on my lower back. I didn't cry out this time, but bit my tongue hard, tasting blood.
"Sag es Mir. (Tell me.)" He spoke again, louder this time.
"Nein. (No.)" I spoke quietly, blood dripping off my lip.
He hit me again and again, ordering me to tell him between every few strokes, but each time I shook my head. After the fourth attempt, I finally answered differently.
"Ich kann dir nicht sagen, warum ich hier bin. Ich kann Ihnen sagen, dass Sie niemals im deutschen Geheimdienst sein wollten, aber Ihr Vater hat es von Ihnen erwartet. Ich weiß, dass sie in der letzten Woche drei mal Poker gespielt haben und ich schlage vor, sie zahlen ihre Schulden und hören damit auf, da es zu einem Problem werden kann. Ich weiß, dass du dich selbst beweisen möchtest also bist du jetzt hier. Ich weiß, dass dein Vater beim Militär war und er war sehr streng mit dir und deinem jüngeren Bruder, also willst du keine Pausen in deiner Routine machen. Ich weiß auch das ich dir Angst einjage."
(I can not tell you why I'm here. I can tell you that you never wanted to be in the German intelligence service, but your father expected it from you. I know that in the last week you have played poker three times and I suggest you pay your debts and quit as it can be a problem. I know you want to prove yourself, so you're here now. I know your father was military and he was very strict with you and your younger brother so you do not want to take breaks in your routine. I also know I'm frightening you.")
I spoke slowly, trying to correctly enunciate the words through my swollen tongue and the blood that still dripped from my bottom lip. When I had finished, I heard the bull whip clatter to the floor and I smirked to myself before the young soldier grabbed my hair again and held my head up.
"Was hast du gesagt? (What did you say?)"
I grimaced. He'd forgotten to be gentle this time.
"Du hast mich verstanden. (You heard me.)" I looked into his eyes and could see not only the initial respect but also a measure of fear.
He left the room in a hurry. Two of the three other soldiers followed him, so only one remained.
I was glad to have a break from the constant beating, but it wasn't going to do anything about the chains. I felt myself sag a little. I wouldn't be able to logic my way out of this one.

"That was clever, I'll admit."
I was suddenly alert. I was surprised to hear English, but resentful to hear that particular voice.
I gnashed my teeth. "Mycroft. Where have you been all this time?" I spat.
"Observing from a distance, little brother."
"You weren't so distant while you were watching me getting beaten to a pulp." I shot back.
"But I did nab the keys." He said, dangling a key ring in the air.
"I wouldn't need them if you'd intervened in the first place, brother." I spoke the word with distaste.
"Don't be ridiculous, Sherlock. You know everything happens for a reason."
I wanted to punch him. It was probably a good thing I was restrained because I would have. Then my last chance of getting out of here would be unconscious on the floor.
I swallowed my anger and said, "Fine."
He approached me, and I heard the rattle of the keys, then the click of the cuffs unlocking.
I grasped my wrist, relieved to finally have the biting steel off my raw flesh. I rolled my shoulders, easing the tension in my muscles, but grinding my teeth at the burning pain of my external wounds.
I picked my shirt up from off the floor and put it on, wincing at the upper body movement it required.

* Bundesnachrichtendienst - The Federal Intelligence Service in Pullach, Germany.