Sherlock Imagines

Kiss we make up. <Part 2> (JohnxReader)

It had been three days. 79 missed calls from John, 43 from Lestrade, 17 from Donovan, and even 2 from Sherlock. You drowned your sorrows in cheap whiskey and boxed white wine, listening to your 'break up' playlist. From 'I'm not okay' to 'impossible year' you played it all. Molly had come to check on you a few times, and even brought ice cream once. On John's side, he was equally as miserable. Sherlock was quite irritated, seeing as he missed spending time with the woman he had come to know as a friend, and a sister. He felt John should've just told him, and then there wouldn't be this mess. Even more so, he felt John should go apologize, but he refused to get out of bed. Emotions. This is why Sherlock hated sentiment. He eventually decided to head over to John's old flat, which was now just your flat. Which you hated. But in a few hours. Back to you, shall we? You heard a knock on the door, the same pattern Sherlock taught you, and you walked up to the door, not even bothering to look for the peephole.
"Sherlock, please, I just need so-" You cut off as you opened the door, realizing that, unless Sherlock straightened, cut, dyed his hair blond, and put in brown colour contacts, this wasn't Sherlock.
"Who the hell are you?!" Your stained cheeks, and smeared mascara, long cleared away. You were still a little drunk, but that's how it was. The man had sympathetic eyes, and seemed reluctant to say anything. He glanced behind you for no more than an eye flick, but still enough to notice the man coming at you from behind.
"I just want to say in advance, I'm sorry for this." Is all he said, you narrowed your eyes at him, before the man you didn't know was there spoke up.
"Well, well, well. Hello, Darling." A thick Irish accent sang, and you spun around to be face to face with THE James Moriarty, you opened your mouth to scream, but the man behind her pulled a wet cloth over your lips and nose, and held you tightly. You calmed down and held your breath, staring challengingly at the devil in front of you.
"Oh, she is so much more fun than Johnny-Boy, oh goodie! Come on, Sebastian! I have an idea!" He seemed physically excited, and Sebastian let you go, but kept the cloth over your face. Moriarty grabbed your arm, and pulled you closer, making sure the cloth didn't leave it's position. He smirked as he stared into your eyes, knowing you were close to passing out. He twisted your arm, and you inhaled sharply in pain, but it was enough to send the chloroform into your system. You passed out, falling directly into him.
"Well, would you look at that? As I say; women are always falling for me!" Moriarty sang as you blacked out, completely disgusted with how he was holding you. A few hours later, Sherlock dropped by to check on you, but in your place, he found the rag Moriarty had used, and a note.

I figured this would be a fun little game!
To see if when you find her,
If she'll be the same,
So bring Mr. As-You-Were,
And find me, Mr. INSANE!
~JM

Sherlock ran out of the flat, all the way to Baker Street. He bolted through the door, not even bothering to close it.
"JOHN!" Sherlock panted as he stumbled into his room.
"Oh, what now Sherlock?" John groaned, and turned towards Sherlock.
"It's y/n!" John bolted up at that. He was frightened, were you dead, hurt, what?
"Moriarty has her!" John darted up and out of his room, whizzing past Sherlock and onto the street. Of course, Sherlock already knew where to go- London Asylum. Abandoned for thirty years. They got a cab and went to rescue you. When they got there, they were instantly pulled into his game.
"Very good, Sherlock! Very good, indeed! I have Watson's little girlfriend- OOPS! EX-Girlfriend, I mean." He gave a sickening laugh, and John was about to tear his throat out.
"If you hurt her, so help me I'll-" Moriarty snapped, and you were dragged out, still dizzy, and drugged, but otherwise fine.
"Oh, please. She's ordinary, boring. Why would I trade the fun of messing with Sherlock, to hurt her? Though, I did think about doing," He paused to consider his words choice, and John's blood boiled. If looks could kill, the glare from John would've been burning Moriarty alive.
"Other things, to her." I sick smile pulled onto his face, and now even Sherlock was angry.
"Let. Her. Go." Sherlock demanded. Moriarty pretended to way his options when Sherlock held up a gun to his head.
"No, I don't think so. Moran!" Moriarty chimed before demanding his second in command. Sebastian reluctantly held a gun to the woman's head. John gasped, and looked angrier than ever. You looked to John, and tears rolled down your eyes.
"John, I'm sorry." You voice shook, and Moriarty cocked an eyebrow at you, and John looked at you in disbelief. No one knew what you meant, or what you were planning. Suddenly, without warning, you sent your shin into Moriarty's knee cap. He hissed in pain as he fell over.
"Sherlock, do it." You begged. John looked at Sherlock, with plead in his eyes.
"I wouldn't if I were you." Moran pulled the gun to your temple, and twisted your arm behind your back. Sherlock aimed his gun, still on edge.
"Do it." You forced, tears again stung your eyes. Without warning, a gunshot rang out. Then, another. Moran laid in a heap on the tile behind you, and blood seeped from a bullet wound in Moriarty's forehead. You shook like a leaf, but John immediately ran to you, pulling you into a loving kiss.
"Kiss we make up, right? That's what we always said?" You joked, and you both laughed, before pulling each other into another.