Selfless | Sherlock

Moriarty

When we arrived, John and I chose to split up. He took one building while Echo and I took the other. Once inside, I knelt down beside the canine which gained her full attention.

"Find him," I commanded quietly, patting her head lightly as her blue eyes pierced mine and her tongue lolled out of the side of her mouth.

As soon as I returned to my feet, Echo lifted her head to sniff the air before bounding off down the hallway. The lights that were probably usually welcoming only left eerie shadows on the light colored walls as I jogged after the dog. After a few turns, Echo stopped dead, seeming to have lost the scent. She then paced for a moment, her nose to the hard floor before she stopped in front of a door. Inside, faint and incomprehensible murmurs could be heard as two people seemed to carry on a conversation.

"Good girl," I said, ready to break down the large door when a gunshot rang out.

The shot elicited a whimper from Echo and a fear of dread from within me. Frantically, I beat on the door relentlessly before taking a deep breath as I stepped back. With a groan, I kicked the door in annoyance and raised my leg to break it down only to hear a hoarse voice scream out a familiar name.

"Moriarty!"

The name gave me a rush of adrenaline as I kicked the door with the rest of my strength which disconnected it from its hinges and sent it to the floor. The absence of the door revealed Sherlock standing over a broken and bloody body belonging to the old cabbie I had seen at the flat. It was then I realized that the shot had come from the building over based upon the two broken windows. It was John who fired the gun.

"Sherlock," I sighed in relief, pain slowly creeping up my leg as I limped up to him as he stared on in surprise.

As I stood beside him, I looked down at the cabbie as he took labored breaths.

"Where is he," I demanded, kneeling beside him.

The man shook his head in defiance before his eyes closed and the rise and fall of his chest stopped.

"No. Wake up! Where is Moriarty?!" I shouted hopelessly at the corpse, dread seeping into my very soul as I thought of the man I knew as my patient.

After taking a deep breath, I shuddered and pushed myself onto my feet only to lose my balance as a sharp pain ran up my leg.

"Fuck," I groaned, ready to feel the embrace of the concrete next to the corpse.

Fortunately, my body never hit the floor. Instead, Sherlock's arms were awkwardly wrapped around my waist as he kept me on my feet while baring most of my weight.

"Thank you Sherlock," I said earnestly, smiling up at his bewildered face and reaching up to move a stray curl out of his face.

The man was silent, as though he had never heard those words directed at him. A sudden wave of courage washed over me and I placed a quick kiss on his cheek before twisting out of his weakened grip.

"C'mon. Lestrade will be here soon," I warned, limping away with Luna at my side but stopping in the door frame to glance back at him.

He stood rigid, his long coat slightly shifting in the cool breeze from the now broken window. After a moment of staring into the empty air, the detective shook his head as though to clear it and took two long strides to reach me before looking down at me curiously. His arm twitched slightly and he seemed to contemplate something before reaching out towards me slightly.

"Would you like help?" he asked quietly.

Who knew a kiss would render the famous detective so shy. I shot him a small smile and nodded, allowing him to wrap his arm around me in order to support some of my weight before starting off for the exit.