Sherlock One-Shots and Preferences

Preferences- You Almost Die

Just a little note, I have said this before and only a couple of people noticed. I just want to confirm with the people who actually care. So, I don't like saying 'guys or girls' when I refer to my readers so I was wondering if you wanted me to use a nickname. I thought of a couple of these and one was another readers suggestion. If you agree with one of these then please say so, if you don't then just comment that you prefer that I don't use a nickname. Again thank you, and here are the choices.

- Cinners (pronounced as sinners)

- Otters

To the preference!

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Sherlock: Moriarty waved his gun around as if it were a toy to him.

"Enie, minie, mienie, moe." He smiled sadistically while pointing the gun in between you and Sherlock and inching it to either side, teasing you.

He started again, playing the silly child's game. Sherlock started to shake in anger, his eyes glared solely at Moriarty.

"Enie, minie, mi-"

"Oh for god's sake Moriarty!" Sherlock growled loudly, his anger echoing off the walls of tiled walls of the swimming pool.

"Mienie, MOE!" In one quick move moriarty pointed the gun straight at your chest and fired into your shoulder.  At first you were shocked, but you felt the cool air invade the wound, which snapped you out of your clueless and shocked daze. Red started to take over the colours in your shirt like an invasion. Your heart started to beat faster and faster by the seconds, your eyes widened and your knees buckled which caused you to crumple to the floor. Moriarty kept Sherlock away from you with the gun, threatening to kill him with the second bullet, but by that point everything was a blur. The bullet went through the top of your right breast and you were bleeding out fast. The last thing you heard was the searing voice of your shooter, sneering;

"I told you I would burn the heart out of you."

You woke up to a tube down your throat. Immediately you lurched forward and gaged and gasped, trying to rip the tube out of your throat. Once the nurse removed the tube, you were able to lie back down and adjust to your  raw throat. Sherlock had been beside you all along. He was in a focused state, his hands tucked under his chin in their normal prayer position. To get his attention you tapped his knee lightly. His pupils dilated and he snapped out of it, immediately wrapping his hands around yours and explaining what happened and how he was so sorry. It turned out you had to have a pace maker put in because the bullet hit so close to your heart that it weakened the muscled and tore a couple veins. Before you dozed away listening to his deep, raspy voice he kissed your forehead and continued to gently rub your hand.

John: Your pregnancy went well with John. You were 9 months pregnant and the hospital induced your labor to be safe since you were a week late. The labor and contractions were intense and lasted more then 16 hours. Doctors realized something wasn't right when both yours and the babies temperature spiked to very dangerous levels. Your heartbeat dropped very low and you were in and out of scary dazes where you couldn't hear or see anything. An emergency c-section was ordered and you were rushed into the OR in a deadly daze. For your own safety the doctors put you under anesthetic and got to work while John waited outside weeping softly as Sherlock comforted him.

After 2 long hours John was brought in to your recovery room to see the sights of a small bundle in your arms, wiggling and yawning as you smiled tiredly at your little baby girl.

Mycroft: While driving to work, you sipped your hot thermos filled with the delicious golden steaming liquid known as tea. The light turned red and you slowed to a stop. This wasn't a very busy street, you usually take back streets to the Mycroft's office rather then the busy London intersections to avoid traffic.

A couple cars passed through and the light switched to green, so you began to drive through. A truck approached from your left side and you though it would slow down, but it didn't. Before you could speed out of the way the truck t-boned your small car. The impact dragged your car sideways twenty feet and made your car tumble three times. Your hood smashed in and the windshield shattered into several pieces that imbedded into your arms, hands and torso when the last tumble made everything jumble about. Blood trickled down your face from a cut but you were unconscious. Passerbys  called the ambulance and tried frantically to get you out of your crumpled car.

Luckily you were transferred to the hospital quickly and woke up with a broken leg and many bandages covering your body. Mycroft was beside your bed and when nobody was in the room he would whisper sweet nothings to you and cuddle you on your small bed.

Lestrade: "Trooper 384 requesting backup at 201 Vile Boulevard we're going in. You messaged from your cop car and slammed the door. Greg busted open the door and you pulled out your gun and began searching the building. He took the basement while you took the upstairs. All the rooms were clear accept for one which you hadn't checked yet. You kicked open the door and pointed your gun to both sides. A closet with sliding doors was closed but the room was clear. Carefully you inch towards the doors, the gun pointed at them.

"London Police, I know you're in there." You say. The doors slide open and a man with white powder around his nose jump out and shoot you with his silenced glock. He's clearly on an over dose, as after he shot you he fell to the ground and started to convulse with foamy spit exiting his mouth.

"GREG!" You yelled and immediately put pressure on your bleeding thigh. You stumbled down the stairs and out to the car where you requested an ambulance. Greg came barreling out to you and started to put pressure on it while you doubled over in pain.

"Oh fuck! Jesus Christ!" You yelled in pain. Back up arrived and they went into the house while Lestrade stayed with you. The ambulance showed up and you were rushed to the hospital in great pain. After surgery you and Greg took a couple days off to have some alone/ healing time, but as soon as you could walk normally you were back to kicking criminal butt with your husband Greg.

Hi! Sorry that Greg's wasn't as dramatic... I kind of ran out of ideas of that makes sense but I hope you enjoyed. Please vote and comment. :D

-CW