You were laying upside down on the couch in 221B.
You lived with Sherlock and John.
The only reason why was because you were the youngest Holmes and your parents were extremely sure that you wouldn’t make it on your own.
So they forced you into Sherlock’s arms.
Sherlock often left you alone or with the company of John or Mrs. Hudson.
You were sure your brothers hated you.
Sherlock and Mycroft always made it a habit to belittle you.
You were just like them. You could deduce anyone. You were extremely intelligent. However, you also had a good sense of manners and respect. So you knew when to speak and when to remain quiet.
But with your brothers, they made it seem like you were a stupid child with an insignificant talent.
In all reality, you loved them and wanted to just make them proud. that was your ultimate goal, to have both brothers express elation and sentiment towards you. You knew, though, that it would never happen.
And for this reason, you always acted out and talked back, acting immature and always angry.
You stood up from the couch, breaking out of your thoughts and grabbing your jacket.
You decided to go on a walk and clear your head.
As you walked around, a car drove up in your path.
Two rough men climbed out and looked at you.
“You the Holmes’ little sister?” one asked.
“I have a name,” you growled.
“That’s a yes,” the second one nodded.
They both tried to grab you, but you punched one in the throat, causing him to bend down and catch his breath before kicking him forward, making his head hit the concrete and knocking him out.
The second one tackled you and pinned you down. You slid your knee up and pushed into his chest, thrusting him backwards. You straddled him and slammed his head backwards three times, until you knocked him out.
A napkin covered in chloroform was put on your nose and mouth from behind.
You weakly tried to fight the unknown assailant, until you slipped into the blackness.
When you regained consciousness, you were tied to a chair, staring at the two henchmen from before, covered in bruises.
You struggled against your binds before smirking at the two.
“Have a nice nap?” you mocked.
The one who had asked for your identity growled and punched you in the mouth.
Blood filled your mouth and you spit it out, laughing.
“Gonna have to try that one again,” you said.
The second one put an arm out to block the first from striking you again.
“The boss said not to hurt her,” he whispered.
“I don’t care,” the man snarled.
He raised his arm to attempt a second hit, but was shot in between the eyes.
“You should have cared,” a man behind you said.
He leaned into your view and kissed your jaw, where a bruise was forming.
You scoffed and moved your face out of his way.
He chuckled.
“My name is Jim Moriarty. And you’re the great Y/N Holmes,” he said.
“I wish,” you muttered.
Moriarty gave you a puzzled glance before pulling a seat in front of you.
“You don’t think you’re great?” he asked.
“I’m not going to talk to my kidnapper about my feelings,” you said.
“But, Y/N, I know all about you,” he smirked.
“Prove it,” you challenged.
“You look up to your brothers, but you are always pushed aside. You want to make them proud, but you know they never will be. They don’t notice that you’re smarter and more talented than the both of them combined,” He said.
You paled, knowing he spoke the truth.
“So I’m going to offer you an ultimatum,” Moriarty said, “Stay behind and be treated like trash for the rest of your short life- and believe me, my dear, it will be short- Or, come with me and be reminded that you are a goddess every time you blink.”
You hesitated.
You loved your brothers, and would never dream of betraying them.
But, here was this man in front of you, ready to give you a better life.
You nodded slowly, deciding.
“I’ll go with you,” you told him.
Moriarty undid your binds and gave you a passionate kiss.
He shot the second henchman and led you to another car with a smile.
“Your new kingdom awaits.”
