Sherlock Preferences & Imagines

Sherlock Holmes

Your pov:

I walked down the streets of London. I limped actually. I got shot In the leg in the Afghanistan war and I don't have any feeling in my leg the doctors said I won't ever get feeling in my leg again. I still have the stitches in my leg. Any stretch or movement can pull them out.

I was walking and I seen someone running towards me. I tried to move out the way but i was to late. I got pushed out the way and I felt my stitches come out. I cried in pain. I seem two other men run down the road. I tried to get up but the pain was to much. I grabbed my walking stick and tried to get up again. The two men stopped by me.

"Hello miss. We can here to help you. Can you stand?"

"What do you think John?" The curly haired man said.

"I-i can try."  I said.

I tried and I failed. I groaned In pain.

"C'mon Sherlock. Pick her up and taker her to the flat. I would do it but my leg."

"Okay."

I felt someone lift me off the floor.

I was loosing blood. Not a lot of blood. But a lot for me to see stars cloud my vision for it to then fade to black.

When I awoke I seemed to be in a room? In a sofa? I said up a bit and I felt a sharp pain my leg.

"Careful or you will rip your stitches out again."

"Where am I?" I asked. "And who are you?"

"The names Sherlock Holmes and you are in 221B baker street."

"Oh? Who was that that you was chasing and the one knocked me over?"

"Oh. It don't matter. Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Y/n Y/l/n. I just came out the Afghanistan war. Because I got shot and the doctor said that I'll lose the feeling in my leg once it's stopped healing."

"Sorry to hear that. John- my room mate- was in the Afghanistan war."

"Oh what his last name?"

"Watson."

"I know him!" I said.

"He should be home soon he went to the store."

"You're a lovely man Sherlock. I wonder why people don't like you. You are very kind. Thanks for helping me."

"No problem Y/N."