You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Blind Banker: Chapter 13

"Monday." You told Sherlock as he studied a Yellow Pages phone book in front of a flat's door. You crossed your arms, watching as he studied the soggy book covered in plastic.

"So, it's been here since Monday." Sherlock nodded, flipping his coat back as he stood. He straightened up, ringing the flat's doorbell for an obnoxiously long time. Above the doorbell was a label that read 'Soo Lin Yao'. As Sherlock waited on the doorstep you began to make your way around to the back of the building- no one was going to answer that door. It was a waste of time to even try. Sherlock soon realized this and began to follow you, John close behind.

"No one's been in that flat for at least three days." Sherlock said as you stopped outside the back of the building. An emergency exit ladder was tucked under the flats windows, which were wide open. You somewhat expected that, going by the book and the door.

"Could've been on holiday." John shrugged, stopping beside you and Sherlock.

"Tell me John, do you leave your window open when you go on holiday?" You questioned, motioning to the open window. John looked up at it, seeing in fact it was wide open.

You attempted to jump up to pull down the emergency ladder, but you were too short by just a couple inches. "Mind lending me some help?" You turned to Sherlock. He nodded, taking a few steps back, then running and jumping up to pull the ladder down. He began to climb up it and you followed behind him. John watched the two of you climb up it, in shock. The ladder folded up into its original position as you stepped onto a ledge.

"Sherlock! Y/n!" He whispered harshly. When he realized neither of you were going to stop he ran around to the front door, hoping one of you would let him in this time.

Sherlock pushed the window open further, ready to climb in. He ducked under the window and started to push himself into the flat. He suddenly stopped, gasped, stopped halfway through the window. You heard a splash of water and Sherlock's leather gloves grasping onto something.

"What?! What is it?!" You hissed in a whisper, on your tiptoes, trying to see around his broad shoulders. You placed your hands on his back, trying to see what happened.

"Be careful, there's a vase." He replied, carefully stepping in the window. As you made your way into the window, you spotted the vase and a wet carpet below where it had spilt.

"Sherlock? Did you tip the vase all the way over?" You asked as you fully climbed into the flat, brushing off your coat as you looked around.

"No... someone's been here before us." He told you, scanning the flat. He stepped father into the flat, while you stayed closer to the window, studying your surroundings.

You looked around, spotting nothing too out of the ordinary. There were some clothes tossed around, but other than that the flat looked particularly clean. You turned to the dyer, opening it and pulling out a clean shirt. You sniffed it, then threw it back in.

"Laundry is starting to smell..." You told Sherlock, shutting the dryer's door. You had expected that based off of the soggy phone book, but it might have been even longer than three days since Soo Lin had been here.

The flat's doorbell rang and John's voice yelled into the building. "Do you think you could maybe let me in this time?!" He yelled, again ringing the doorbell. Once neither of you answered John again yelled, sounding a bit angry. "Can you not keep doing this please?" You ignored him.

Sherlock opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, sniffing it. He instantly recoiled, his face scrunching up in disgust. He threw it back into the fridge closing its door. You watched him, feeling a small smile appear on your lips, you didn't fight it back this time but it faded softly on its own.

"Milk's gone bad." He told you, his nose still scrunched up from the smell. You trailed over to a small table and studied some of the things on top of it. Phone charger, hair ties, nothing worth noting down.

"We're not the first!" Sherlock yelled to John as he pushed aside beads that were hung in the doorway to the living room.

"What?!" John yelled, clearly not hearing Sherlock.

You turned standing behind Sherlock before yelling louder. "Somebody has been here before us!"

"What?! What are you guys saying?" John's muffled voice came out. You sighed, before turning back to look at the carpet where the vase had been spilled. You bent down, looking for anything that might be important.

"Size eight feet... Small, but athletic." Sherlock told you as he stepped farther into the flat. "Small, strong hands."

"Our acrobat?!" You asked, pushing yourself up from your crouched position to walk into the room with Sherlock.

"Must be..." Sherlock trailed off, turning away from you as he started muttering something to himself.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you noticed someone's shoe sticking slightly out from behind a large wardrobe. You stepped to investigate, but they suddenly jumped out, hitting you hard across the forehead before you could even let out a gasp of surprise or fight back. You crumpled to the ground, almost soundlessly.

"Y/n? Y/n? Are you okay?" You heard Sherlock's voice ask croakily. You groaned, rubbing your forehead and looking up at Sherlock who was bent over you, a worried look etched on his face. You felt his hands on either of your arms, his grip tight. You looked down at your fingers and saw blood smeared across them.

"Ugh, what did he hit me with?" You moaned.

"Not important. Are you okay?" Sherlock asked again, his arms now moved up to your shoulders as he looked over you intently as if checking for other wounds.

"Yeah, I think so... is it bad?" You asked, taking his hand as he helped pull you to your feet, careful not to get any blood from your hand on himself.

He helped you stand steady before he looked over your forehead and replied, "You may have another scar." He seemed to be joking. He coughed as he spoke, his voice higher than normal. You looked at him, concerned.

"Are you okay?" You asked as you rubbed the forming bump on your head, following Sherlock as he walked towards the door.

"Fine." He replied, coughing slightly. "They left this." He said through wheezes, showing you a small, origami flower.

"What does it mean?" You questioned, frowning as you tried to fix your now messy hair and mop up the blood on your forehead.

"Not... sure." Sherlock coughed, tucking it back into his pocket and swinging the door open. John looked up at the two of you expectantly. He saw your forehead and instantly looked concerned.

"What happened?!" He exclaimed.

"I tripped." You chuckled, fixing your crooked coat.

"Well are you okay?" He asked, looking at blood on your forehead that had already begun to dry.

"You tell me, doc." You grinned taking the handkerchief he offered you. You used it to wipe up the excess blood around the wound.

"The milk's gone off and the washing has started to smell. Someone left here in a hurry three days ago." Sherlock said, his voice was very shaky and unsteady.

"Somebody?" John asked, still studying you nervously then looking over to Sherlock.

"Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her." You answered for Sherlock as he wheezed. You bit your lip, while you were passed out he must've had quite the fight. Someone had clearly tried to strangle him.

"How exactly?" John asked. Sherlock spied a letter on the ground and quickly snatched it up. 'Soo Lin. Please ring me, tell me you're ok. Andy' The note read, Sherlock unfolded it to see it was an old envelope that came from the National Antiques Museum.

"We could start with this." Sherlock croaked, closing Soo Lin's door and starting to walk off. You followed beside him and so did John.

"You've gone all croaky, are you getting a cold?" John asked, concerned, looking over at Sherlock. You weren't sure how he didn't put two and two together and understand you were attacked, but whatever.

"I'm fine." He coughed, waving John away.