Selfless | Sherlock

Near Death Experience + Cuddles

It had been a few days since Sherlock almost killed himself to prove his cleverness, and thoughts of Moriarty plagued my mind constantly since the night he left after helping me up the staircase. I had been going back to work and made sure to check up on my current patients to monitor their progress. Unfortunately returning to work forced me to deal with a few parents who brought in their children because of their "random" and "bipolar" behavior saying that the kids were surely mentally ill when it was truly the parents with the problems. Today, the case of a suicidal schizophrenic whose mother stole her meds nearly made me call Cas to smite the ridiculous parent. She got lucky, as she dumped the girl and promptly drove off after signing some paperwork. After a late night I was finally able to return home where I was sure Echo was waiting impatiently. By the time Baker Street came into view from the windshield of my car I was exhausted.

"Finally," I muttered, noticing a black clad figure standing at the door of 221B and rubbing my eyes in an effort to wipe away my need for sleep.

I stared on in silent disbelief as John was struck in the head before he dropped to the floor. Staggering slightly, I slammed the door to my car and yelled at the dark figure.

"Hey!" I shouted, trying not to yawn as the man snapped his head towards me before holding a knife to John's throat.

"Come quietly or he dies," he warned, staring at me from beneath his hood.

"Back off," I hissed, taking a tentative step forward but not daring to go any further.

In what felt like a instant, he lunged towards me and everything went black. When my consciousness began to return, it brought a sense of dread with it as I remembered that James Moriarty was quite possibly at large in London. My eyelids fluttered open and immediately fell upon a torch that illuminated the sewer I had been brought to. I soon realized that my body was restrained against a chair and John as well as a woman were beside me in the same predicament. I was not able to take in much more of the room before an asian woman dressed in black and wearing large sunglasses caught our attention with her words. The man who had captured us stood beside her.

"A book is like a garden, carried in your pocket."

Everything was silent for a moment as she walked towards us leisurely, eyes obscured by her glasses. When she stood only a few feet away from John, she raised her sunglasses and looked down upon him disdainfully. I watched in silent confusion as the woman addressed him as "Mr. Holmes" and cringed as he attempted to prove otherwise, only for her to reveal Sherlock's card which had made its way into his wallet. The rag in my mouth prevented me from speaking up as John realized that his predicament was hopeless. I cursed to myself as the woman raised a gun to his head, making him fall silent. As she monologued and cocked the gun, I frantically prayed to Castiel for help.

"Cas, life threatening situation over here," I called out mentally, only for the woman who revealed herself to be Shan to pull the trigger.

I flinched and shouted sanctimoniously before realizing that John's head was intact, and the gun had in fact been unloaded. Unfortunately my outburst brought her attention to me.

"Hm. I thought your feelings lied with his companion," she mused, loading the handgun before turning back to John.

"Do you have it?" she questioned, raising the gun to his eye level and staring him down.

When John failed to comply, as none of us had a clue as to what she was demanding, the woman became visibly angry. I could only stare in horror as the man pulled away a sheet and revealed a harpoon type machine I had only seen in dangerous circus acts.