Making Utopia (Moriarty the Patriot Reader-Insert)

Chapter XIV: A Scandal in the British Empire Act 3 (Part I)

After Irene left, the four remaining people that stayed on the same floor soon huddled together near a door with the detective's back facing it, almost pressing his back to it as he continues to contemplate about something. 

"The Lord of Crime? Irene isn't dealing with the government, but with the Lord of Crime? Are you certain, Sherlock?" Asked by Y/N, still being calm, but an undertone of worry in her tone is present. 

Sherlock remained silent, gritting his teeth in annoyance and frustration with his brows furrowed into a frown. He releases a 'tch' when his thinking had arrived into a quite unsatisfying conclusion.

Noticing the detective giving no response, Y/N lets her question be unanswered and kept silent while directing a concerned gaze towards him. John actually wanted for Sherlock to answer Y/N's inquiry earlier and because it wasn't, it only made him more worried that he had unintentionally taken a step forward before letting Sherlock's back finally make contact with the door behind him.

John had his hands placed on each of his shoulders after his push as he exclaims. "Hey! He's a killer! I find it very difficult to believe that he will keep his promises! Are you certain that we should just let Miss Adler go off like this?"

John composes himself, calming down after his outburst of some sort as he regains the normal state of his breathing. After his last question, he releases his hold upon the detective's shoulders, hands still hovering in a gesture that asks for an answer of some sort, but it seemed like the detective is lost in his own thoughts. 

With a thumb pressed firmly on the bridge of his nose with the rest of his fingers bent limply in front of him, he utters to himself with his eyes closed in concentration, ignoring the noise that came from John calling out his name. "No... it's not that. There's no sure-fire way to save her, but..." 

The detective tries to come up with other possible ways, but remained fruitless. Releasing a series of curses, Sherlock's fist, that was the same that he had used to touch the bridge of his nose earlier, soon found its way punching the door behind him. His sudden furious action had surprised the three who gasped, blinked, and slightly flinched in shock as they stared at the detective with a frown of worry. 

Releasing another curse word, Sherlock proceeds to lower his head, gazing onto the floor while holding both sides of his head as he screams out. "There must be something else, right! If so, let's have it!" 

It was silent between the four of them for a moment. After his outburst, Sherlock seemed to lose energy, letting his back make contact with the door behind him before letting himself slide down, sitting on the carpeted floor. Finally giving up with searching for an answer he would be satisfied with, Sherlock releases his hold on his head and lets his arm fall limp, one on his lap and the other on his knee. 

His actions were soon followed by him saying in dejection. "It's hopeless... No matter how much I think it through, it always arrives at the same conclusion. This is the worst-case plan, but right now, we have nothing else."  

The volume of his voice was akin to a whisper, filled with utter disappointment, but also finalization when he informed the others after reaching an end to his contemplation that was always the same. Hearing soft thumps of steps that gradually became louder, the four of them proceed to look at the person that they are waiting for. Irene is slowly climbing down the stairs, wearing a clothing that's much fit for travelling while carrying a briefcase containing her stuff.