The Art Of Deduction ➢ Sherlock x Reader

Under Attack [24]

Sherlock yawned tiredly. He sat down on the comfortable chair, and stretched out his aching muscles. Languidly, he reached for the remote control and turned on the telly to watch the news.

'Hello London! We are cancelling the 11 o'clock news to bring you important information.' Puzzled and intrigued, Sherlock began to focus completely on the screen as a blond reporter came to view with a ghastly pale look on her face.

"The people of London are wondering why the Tower Bridge has been evacuated. Now confirmed by the British Government and special group focusing on terrorism, the reason due to the evacuation is due to the serious of threats being delivered from unknown origins. Although, it is speculated that these threats might be coming from the supremacist group ISIS, or the Russian mafia. Government officials are unsure yet, seeing how the code that came along with the threats has not been decoded."

Sherlock's heart was beating rapidly. He was sweating, hands trembling and eyes dilating. Thank god, that John was not in London. He was somewhere off to a Physician event far from London.

Sherlock let out a sigh of relief. All he needed was a cigarette but seeing as [Name] hated him smoking and it had been almost 3 years of being clean, Sherlock didn't want to risk it. The old Sherlock would of scoffed and laughed. Felt pity even, for being so in love for a woman.

"Reincarnation." Sherlock sighed. "That's all. I am better as I am. She made me better than I was. She made me human." Sherlock set out a cup of tea, and mumbled a few curse words as hot burning pain seized him. The dark-haired male was still trembling, the porcelain teacup clinking violently against the saucer.

[Name]

That was all he could think about this point. How long had it been since she had been gone? 2 years? No. It was already October, and soon it would be 3 years. 3 years without [Name]....

Sherlock wondered how [Name] would have reacted if this whole situation was reversed. If he would have been gone instead of her. What would she have done? He had no clue. He didn't dare imagine her suffering. Crying every night for him. It was too painful too imagine. Sherlock was strong and already so empty but [Name] was a bubbling light. Always smiling, making jokes and kind, despite the cold, cruel demeanour that often surrounded her. But that was only a façade she learned to put up in order to survive. Sherlock understood.

Sherlock rested his throbbing head on the pillow, and stared out the window, his long black lashes fluttering with every blink.

And before he knew it, Sherlock was falling asleep.

Until.....

A blast and tremble woke him up....

Followed by a series of sirens....

Screaming......

The blond reporter from earlier came back into view. However, this time she was screaming, and footage of the Big Ben on fire flashed across the telly. People were running everywhere, panicked and causing commotion.

Sherlock was about to run out the door and investigate, but he realise he was only in his knickers and pyjama shirt. The handsome detective groaned as he darted into his room, and as quick as lightening, grabbed a white shirt, pants, blue scarf and coat. His usual attire.

While panicked bystanders were running from the commotion, Sherlock planned to run into it. Straight to the site of the accident. He grinned like a sly devil, and ran a hand through his unruly curls.

Sherlock laughed, "Big Ben on fire? It's not Christmas yet."

The ground shook again, and a loud piercing shrill penetrated the air, and Sherlock fell into the ground screaming, and covering his ears. He felt dizzy as he wobbled and struggled to get up, blackness coating his sight. Alas, the pain was too great and his whole torso was overcome by pain and numbness.

Sherlock Holmes was paralysed.

"I can't.... I have to...go...and....find..." Those were the last words on his breath, before he blacked out.

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OPPS