|| Be Her Guard || Sherlock Holmes x Reader

|♢| Chapter 24 |♢| Gone Girl

No words can be said to calm Sherlock down. The detective's face is pale beyond belief, his eyes wide with clear panic despite his efforts to hide it. He disappears into his Mind Palace for the majority of the drive, only snapping out of it long enough to either snap at John for his poor attempts of comfort or to order Lestrade to drive faster.

The inspector does his best to bite back any sour words, realizing that this is no time to argue or get offended by the man's harshness. To be honest, he's a bit afraid to. Never in all his years of knowing Sherlock has he seen him so visibly panicked or upset.

Lestrade still has no clue what's going on, only that John had gotten Sherlock's attention during his phone call which is when the latter man's personality immediately switched like a light. Next thing anyone knew, he was running towards Lestrade's car, shouting at the confused inspector that they need to get to Baker Street quickly. Usually, he'd assume Sherlock's just being his normal, crazy self and not think much of it, but by that desperate look the detective had given him, saying that it concerns you, he knew something's truly wrong.

John sits in the back seat, his phone glued to his ear as he listens to poor Mrs. Hudson's cries and does his best to reassure her even through his own jumbled worries," we're heading there now...Mrs. Hudson, you have to try and calm down. Take deep breaths, alright?...I know, I know...We're almost there..."

While no one can tell, Sherlock's listening intensely to John's words, trying to pick up on any clues as to what's going on there, yet he refuses to actually ask. Deep down, he just knows...and it makes him sick to consider.

It only takes a couple of minutes to reach Baker Street, but it feels like hours to everyone in that car. Sherlock doesn't even wait for Lestrade to properly stop the vehicle, swinging his door open and leaping out in one quick motion before bursting through the front door, John not far behind.

The first thing they find is Mrs. Hudson who sits on the stairs leading up to their flat, her head in her hands as she sobs with a violence shake in her shoulders. When seeing the boys, she reaches up, her arms and voice trembling," S-Sherlock...they're g-gone...h-he-"

He completely ignores her and her words, instead entrusting her to John's care while he races up the stairs at least two steps at a time, shouting your name.

Once reaching the top step, Sherlock slams the half open door completely open, not bothering to worry about it possibly punching a hole in the wall. He puts his main focus on scanning the flat, taking note of every little detail that he can.

A fresh fire burns brightly in the fireplace, keeping the room toasty warm. The only other light inside the dark flat is the dim lamp behind his chair, a blanket pooled at the bottom of said chair with the book you've been reading as of lately lying page-side down on the ground beside it.

Quickly concluding that you're nowhere in the main room, he calls your name again while turning on his heel and racing into the bedroom. Flipping on the light, he tosses the covers off the bed yet finds it empty. The closet? Empty. The bathroom? Empty. The kitchen? Empty again. He checks every single spot he could imagine someone hiding, every spot he holds onto hope of you being, and yet you're nowhere to be seen...no one is.

Regardless, he circles aimlessly around the flat. There must be some clue to help him. Coffee has been made in the kitchen with a couple of his experiments and papers tidied up meaning you must've woken up not long after they left, deciding to do a little cleaning before sitting down to read until their return. One of the kitchen chairs has been knocked over, something you wouldn't have left willing especially after recently cleaning which means something happened afterwards, giving you a reason to knock it over-