Lost and Found (Sherlock x Reader)

His Last Vow (Part 3)

"Sherlock..." Molly Hooper's voice echoed in his mind palace. "...you need to fall on your back."

The consulting detective had been shot. He only had seconds before he would lose consciousness, so he used that precious time to slip into his mind palace and keep himself alive.

Philip Anderson walked behind Sherlock. "Right now, the bullet is the cork in the bottle."

Molly walked to his left. "The bullet itself is blocking most of the blood flow."

Anderson stopped in front of the detective. "But any pressure or impact on the entrance wound could dislodge it."

"Plus, on your back, gravity's working for us." Molly's voice became firm. "Fall now."

In the real world, Sherlock did as she instructed. His eyes began to close and he fell backwards.
Just before he hit the ground, he snapped back to his mind palace. An alarm was blaring loudly. Sherlock stumbled back, his hands covering his ears, until he was pressed against a wall.

"What the hell is that?" He shouted. "What's happening?"

One of the cabinet trays beside him started to open, revealing his own dead body on a slab. Molly suddenly appeared on the other side of the tray. "You're going into shock," She stated. "It's the next thing that's going to kill you."

Panting, Sherlock stared at her. "What do I do?"

Mycroft took Molly's place. "Don't go into shock, obviously." He looked around the sterile white room. "Must be something in this ridiculous memory palace of yours that can calm you down."

Sherlock stared at his brother.

"Find it."

The detective squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of something that could calm him down. The answer came quickly and he soon found himself running down a long staircase.

"The East Wind is coming, Sherlock." Mycroft's words echoed. "It's coming to get you."

Sherlock soon found himself in a long corridor with many wooden doors.

"Find it." Mycroft's words continued to bounce around in his head.

Pulling open a door, bright light flooded the corridor. Sitting at the end of the hall was a beautiful Irish setter dog.

"Hello, Redbeard!" Sherlock called to the pup. "Here, boy. Come on!"

Blinking once, something changed. Someone stood beside the dog. He recognized the figure instantly. It was you. Spinning around to face him, you smiled widely at him. You wore a light blue dress and looked absolutely stunning. In the blink of an eye, you had shrunk considerably—growing younger instantly. A plastic crown was now resting on your head and you held a wooden sword.

You lifted the weapon above your head. "Ahoy matey!"

Sherlock stood before you both in his younger body as well. He smiled at you. Redbeard began to trot towards him. You walked along with the dog. Reaching the detective, who was back in his adult form, Redbeard started licking his forehead. You knelt down beside the pup, an adult again as well.

Tears slipped down Sherlock's cheeks. "They're putting me down now, too."

Losing his balance, he began to fall backwards. You reached out, your hand grabbing the back of his neck. His impact with the floor was softened thanks to you. In an instant, you and Redbeard vanished and Sherlock began to violently seize on the ground.

"Without the shock, you're going to feel the pain," Molly's voice spoke. "There's a hole ripped through you. Massive internal bleeding."

Sherlock screamed and cried as he convulsed on the ground.