My Sociopath | A Sherlock Story

| Earned Not Given |

run that is all she could do at that point... run for her life.

It had been 3 days since she'd gone missing, 3 days since Sherlock had received any sort of sign that she was alive. And although he would never admit it, he was scared. It was unusual for him not to be one step ahead but now, because of her, he didn't know what was going to happen next. He had no idea whether she was alive or dead let alone where she was, and even though he hated to admit it... He was scared.

John had never seen Sherlock like this, he hadn't been sleeping or eating, he was continuously pacing back and forth around the flat waiting for a call, or anything about the case and her.
Right now though, Sherlock was sat upright in his chair, his right leg crossed over the other, shaking profusely. John on the other hand was standing in the same door way she was stood in just three days prior, Sherlock could remember it vividly, the way she stumbled over her own feet when turning into the kitchen. He didn't know what he was feeling in that moment. All he knew was that he didn't like it.
John muffled out a cough, breaking the trance that Sherlock was in.
"Sherlock, are you okay?" He said softly, slowly walking, and placing himself in his own chair.
"Of course I'm fine John, what else would I be?" Sherlock spits immediately rising from his chair and passed John into the kitchen, avoiding eye contact.
"Is it really that hard to say you're scared? Or that you feel guilty?"
Sherlock focuses his attention elsewhere with an expression of pure disgust, "Come on John. I'm not scared. Being scared makes you weak."
"You are scared Sherlock, you just hate to admit there's a small possibility you care for someone's well being that isn't your own."
"How can I care for someone I hardly know."

They're cut off by the Sherlock's phone ringing. The man quickly dashes to his phone putting it up to his ear, as he looks out the window onto Baker Street. "Talk, Lestrade." Is all he says before nodding on to whatever the detective was saying on the other line. John wanted to know what he was saying but knew it was best for him to wait for Sherlock to feed it back to him.
"I'm on my way." Sherlock states, hanging up the phone and briskly walking out the flat, without forgetting to grab his long coat on the way. John quick on his heels, rushing to figure out what was going on.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" John asks Sherlock as the other is flagging down their cab.
"Apparently they've found her."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"She's being held hostage, and apparently he's been asking for me." Sherlock, seemed almost smug when saying that statement, to John's displeasure.
"It's too easy though, there has to be something else..."

The two had finally made it to the scene, Sherlock had been fidgety the entire taxi ride there and John knew he was itching to see her again, to be sure she was alive, for the sake of his own conscience over anything else. As the car slowly pulled up, The consulting detective made no effort to wait for the car to come to a complete halt before jumping out, leaving John to pay the driver and scurry after him.
Lestrade was pacing near the entrance of the seemingly abandoned building, a mixture of nerves and adrenaline coursing through his veins. As he caught eye of Sherlock storming through the entrance him and many other officers were quick to block him; pulling him to the side to talk through the situation at hand.

"You can't go in there without a plan, we have no idea whether he has a weapon like he has stated, why he wants to see you and the state she is currently in..."
"I think we both know, Detective Lestrade, that nothing you are going to say in the next 5 minutes will have any affect on my next actions whatsoever so if you would like to let go of me so I can do what I came to do"
"And what did you come to do"
"To save her."
Lestrade let out a deep sigh, he never thought he'd see the day Sherlock would willingly put himself into harms way for a friend, let alone a stranger. But he had to agree with him, he knew he wasn't going to listen to both his and John's protests to his stupidity in this moment. So he did the only thing he could do, he brought the dark haired man close to his body, slipping a gun into his hand,
"If he gets violent, don't hesitate"

And with those parting words, Sherlock dashed in and up the steal staircase up to the 4th floor, he had overheard some of the other officers discussing what level he was supposedly on and decided to go there first.

Once he reached it he passed through the aged and work desk cubicles in silence, scared of making a single sound that could alert the killer of his presence. His heart was beating out his chest, that feeling he was oh so in love with. The adrenaline, he got a different kind of high from it. But he had to focus. There were lives at risk. He held the gun tightly by his leg, taking long, slow strides to where he could hear a slight whimpering.

And there she was.

Curled up in the corner, knees to her chest, rocking slightly back and forth. You could see the shine from the tears on her cheeks from where he was stood. He quickly hurried to her side, dropping the gun to enable him to move the hair from her face and check for any injuries.
"Did he do anything to you? Are you hurt?" He whispered hastily. And after taking a closer inspection he realised she was completely unharmed, not even a scratch, a wave of relief came over him, which he would later use as an excuse for his next actions... he brought her into to his embrace and combed his fingers through her hair, muttering numerous apologies and wishes for forgiveness for what he had caused. And in that moment of pure human emotion, he became vulnerable.

Click

He felt the cold metal press against the back of his head, the hand holding the gun to his head was shaking, either on drugs or just nervous, but considering this is a serial killer case he was going to assumed the former. He slowly released Alice from his embrace... her eyes looking directly into his own, showing only pure fear. He tried his best to give her a reassuring smile but it must have failed because her worried and fearful expression only heightened as Sherlock slowly turned to face Harry, the same man he watched walk out of the bar with his arm wrapped around Alice, he felt nothing but disgust looking into his eyes, wondering how a human could end up like that.

Harry was still shaking, gun pointed towards Sherlock, but his face contorted into a smile before he began to laugh, the kind of laugh that ran a shiver down your spine.

"He said you would come... the man on the phone, he said you would come to save the scared little girl.." each sentence would be interrupted by a series  of uncontrolled twitches further evidencing Sherlock's ideas of drug abuse.
"Harry, what man are you talking about?" Sherlock questions wearily,
"The man on the phone, he said the only way I would be able to complete it would be by giving you someone to save... I got too bored waiting with the other ones so I killed them."
"Complete what Harry?"
"You don't know? The game, Sherlock... I have to win the game?"
"And how do you do that?"
"By killing you."
For the first time Harry, stopped shaking and Sherlock knew what was coming next.

He squeezed his eyes shut and heard the bang, and waited for the pain... but no pain came.

He slowly reopened his eyes again to see Harry clutching his stomach, crimson liquid coating his hand and shirt, causing the once grey fabric to turn into a dark red. Then Sherlock turned his gaze to behind him where he saw the girl with the petite frame holding up the gun he had previously dropped when he first saw her. Her eyes clamped shut, take short, shaky but deep breaths to try and regulate her own heartbeat. He then turned his whole body to stand directly in front of her, gently encasing his large hands over her small ones to take the gun away, right as her eyes finally began to open, searching frantically before meeting his cool, blue ones. Before embracing each other once more. Sherlock wouldn't normally do this, but he knew she needed comfort and there was no one else near to give it to her, so he tried his best.
The sounds of frantic officers running up the stairs and other police vehicles outside were muffled as they held onto each other. Alices brain was too shocked to focus on anything other than the mans heartbeat, as her head is pressed against his chest.

"Did I kill him?" She whispered so quietly Sherlock could barely hear it. But he did.
"You saved me." He replied.

Authors Note ~
I'm SO sorry I haven't been able to update recently exams have been so hectic but now I'm finally done for the year I'm going to be updating a lot more over the next few months. I've missed this so much and can't wait to get back into it!!
Next chapter is most likely going to be a filler and THEN we shall be following the eps of the actual series starting with season 1 episode 3

Please let me know what you think of the chapter and vote if you have enjoyed 🥰