Sherlock: His Lover Called A [Sherlaide II]

Alert [A]

Two Days Later

"Glad you had a good holiday, Adelaide!"

"Likewise, Robert!" I call after him as we split ways. I smile and look back at my clipboard as I make my way back to the office. It was nice to have nearly two weeks off but I'm happy to be back and hearing about how my co-workers spent the holidays. Many travelled abroad and a few had very momentous occasions; one proposal, a baby birth and a wedding. Of course the misadventures and misfortunes are as common as the happy moments, but almost everyone had a wonderful time.

Including me. I smile, thinking back to all the fun I had with Sherlock and my friends and family. I got to see my grandparents and aunt yesterday too. They came into town to surprise me and Finn. Sherlock and I had many fun dates. Tara and I had our share of mischief. And then the bad... My smile fades as I remember the target on my head. Moriarty. Or whomever is acting as his shadow puppet.

Now feeling depressed, I sort of slump into the office and drop into my chair. A fresh vase of flowers greets me and I of course think of Sherlock. He's never neglected to replenish the floral arrangements on my desk or in my flat. I take a deep breath and sign into my computer with a light smile. Keep a positive attitude, Ada. For yourself and for Sherlock.

As I go about my work I manage to follow my mental advice. It's actually a pretty smooth, good day. Sherlock checks in with me every hour on the dot. Apparently the case he's working is "terribly tedious". John is back with him though so he's not ranting nearly as much as he was. The army doctor is more than happy to be back in the game too. I saw him just after New Year's with Sherlock and the two were happy as clams at high tide.

Then, around two thirty, I hear the office door yank open and then slam closed. I jolt and nearly crash onto the floor from my chair, "What the-!!"

"Adelaide!" I look up, holding my hand to my heart as my pulse slows down.

"Sherlock? Why did you do that?!" I force out. He comes around and grips me by the shoulders.

"Adelaide, listen to me."

"Okay..?"

"Until further notice you have to stay at 221B. Moriarty just sent another message. He is most assuredly targeting you."

"What message?" I feel myself go pale and cold with dread.

He sighs, "He detonated a bomb inside your flat. The building itself is fine but in the ashes I found a note threatening you. We have to go now. You're only safe at Baker Street with me."

"B-But-"

"Do not worry about it. Just please come quickly," I'm frozen in place, "Please,  Love. Come on."

I nod slowly and get up, gathering my things. Sherlock grabs my winter gear and hurriedly attempts to get them onto me. He's worried.  I let him finish and then manage to grab my purse before he propels me out of the office, grabbing his mobile. Probably texting Mycroft and John and Lestrade. We eventually get outside to where another sedan is waiting. I get in and Sherlock follows.

"S-So my flat is ruined, Sherlock?"

He exhaled, "No. Just the kitchen and living room are torched. But it is unsafe for you to return there now," I gulp and nod, going silent. Sherlock reaches for my hand, "I will keep you safe. Trust me."

"I do trust you, Sherlock."

We get to Baker Street and by then John and Mary have arrived with a suitcase full of my things. Sherlock carries it up to John's old room as Lestrade arrives. Slightly shellshocked, I opt to curl up in my boyfriend's chair. Missus Hudson brings me tea and she and Mary sit with me, offering words of comfort. I watch as evidence is tacked onto Sherlock's "Problem Wall". The knife embeds itself into the mantel and a bullet is fired, but it doesn't faze me. Doesn't bring me out of my trance. Finley.  I start to worry about him and others. What
if Moriarty hurts them too?  

It's late at night when everyone else has cleared out except Missus Hudson. Sherlock reluctantly goes to collect a few more things from my flat upon my request. I promise to stay tucked in his chair. And that I do. I don't move an inch. Already fatigued and tired, I start nodding off.

I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and assume it to be Missus Hudson. I don't open my eyes, "I'm fine, Missus H. I don't need any more tea."

"Lucky you, you won't be needing anything else."

What happens next is a blur. I can't look up because suddenly something is thrown over my head and tied loosely around my neck. Someone, maybe more than one person, grab me and I try to struggle and fight them off but they restrain me too well.

Then numbing cold and sharp wind is all I hear and feel. Pain- brutally inflicted- comes next. I'm already so disoriented that I can't do anything to stop it. Every time I try to tell or scream, I get chopped to the neck and punched in the gut.

After I don't know how long, the torment stops and then I'm encompassed by bitter cold and darkness.

Sherlock...