You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Great Game: Chapter 9

You were jolted from your thoughts when a cold hand touched your shoulder. You opened your eyes to see Mark's face was inches from yours. You pushed him away, sitting up. He was lucky you just finished your escape plan. You scanned his expression and saw he had something he needed to say. You waited for him to talk.

"Things are getting worse out there, they're interrogating everyone. People are starting to get restless. We need to get them out of here." He looked concerned at this point, and tired. You sighed, sitting up.

"They'll get out eventually, I'm the one who needs out of here. There's a serial killer on the loose and Sherlock needs my help." You groaned, standing to stretch out your muscles.

"There's a serial killer on the loose." Dr. McClendon chuckled darkly, shaking his head at you. "There's a serial killer that killed those agents too."

"And that's not my problem, I did my job here."

"You're really not helping your image here, witch." He shook his head at you, a small smile ghosting across his face.

"I just- I can't focus on this case with another killer out there who is playing mind games with Sherlock. I'm just... I'm worried about him." You sighed, your head dropping. You hadn't even really realized you were actually so worried. There was just a lot going on in your head.

"Hey, Sherlock is gonna be fine." Mark comforted you, his voice becoming soft. You nodded, twisting your hands as you thought. You didn't like the feeling you had, it really made you envy your past self before all these emotional issues.

You and Mark sat there a moment in silence before you heard someone push through the door. You looked back seeing one of the agents walking towards you. He was tall and rather buff. You knew why he was there.

"Dr. Y/l/n, if you could follow me." He asked and you glanced at Mark, rolling your eyes.

"Actually, I'd like to know why I need to follow you first." You requested, giving the guy a hard time. You knew they wanted to interview you, but you weren't going willingly.

"Just a simple interview is all we need."

"Yeah, but the thing is I have nothing to hide. And I'm pretty sure it's not that hard to trace a number back to someone the last time I checked, so what's the deal?" The man tightened his jaw and glared at you before taking a deep breath.

"We have orders to interview everyone, that includes you."

"An interview must be requested, and I don't remember agreeing to one."

"Y/n- Dr. Y/l/n-" You raised an eyebrow at that, a smile slipping onto your face.

"See, you already did a background check on me, how else would you know my first name? It's not shown anywhere in the lab since I don't work here. That means you already know all you need to know about me." That pushed him over the line. He reached for your wrist and you took a step back, avoiding him. "Woah, are you trying to get fired?"

"Yeah, like your word is taken more seriously than mine." He growled, grabbing for you again.

"Hey! Back off, man!" Mark yelled, stepping in between you and the agent. After that, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The agent's fist connected with Mark's temple, and he fell to the side, hurriedly pushing himself back up.

"Hey!" You yelled as the agent grabbed your arm, yanking you towards the door. You quickly twisted your arm around and elbowed him in the nose, before slamming the office door in his face and locking it. You heard banging on the other side, but ignored it.

You kneeled next to Mark who now had blood running down the side of his face.

"Listen to me, those aren't real agents. They'll eventually break through that door and they are going to take me. Use my cell that I hid in that potted plant and call Sherlock, tell him what happened, alright? He'll get the police here."

"Wait, what! What do you mean they're not real agents?"

"Are you kidding? They're not following any proper protocols, and punching a potential witness? Not a good call. I knew Moriarty planned to keep me away from Sherlock, but I didn't intend on him sending fake agents to kidnap me." The door was suddenly kicked in and you took one last glance at Mark before two agents had their arms around you, pulling you away. You didn't struggle, there was no use, you knew that. You just prayed Mark listened to what you said.

***

You awoke, memories from just hours... days (?) ago rushing back to you all at once. Your entire body ached and you weren't exactly sure where you were. Moriarty's fake agents had beaten you around a bit before they drugged you. You had passed out. You knew they had driven you somewhere that wasn't outside of London, the van ride there came back to you in increments. You had been in and out of consciousness, but you knew for sure you were still in London. You weren't sure how long you'd been out. You last ate a couple hours before you'd left for the lab, and your stomach was aching now, growling lowly. You also had a major headache, and light purple bruises from where the "agents" had beat you up. That told you it had to have been almost an entire day later.

You groaned, tugging lightly on the rope that bound your arms and legs to a wooden chair. You studied your surroundings, seeing you were in a locker room... weird. It was very humid, so you deduced you were definitely near a pool of sorts. The smell of chlorine confirmed that. You scanned your memory and nodded, of course... Carl Powers. He had died at a pool, it makes sense you were at a pool now, maybe even the same exact one where Carl was killed.

You felt beads of sweat drip down your forehead and down your back. You had no intelligent ideas on how to escape, your brain seemed to not be up to its full potential at the moment. Could it be what they drugged you with? You wondered, testing your memory. No. You could still fully recite every book you'd ever read. Your memory was fine. So why were your strategic planning skills failing you now, out of every moment?

You went back to the rope around your arms and legs and felt they were very loose, which was strange to you. You felt a light pressure around your waist and gazed down, seeing wires that connected to tiny white blocks. Of course the bomber had attached you to a bomb. Was this Moriarty's plan? To use you as bait for another test for Sherlock? No... all the others had been wired up with microphones and a pager, you weren't and there didn't seem to be any snipers around.

Now wasn't the time to overthink this. You pulled at the ropes around your wrist and to your surprise, they started slipping off. It was obviously intentional, but why? You didn't like where this seemed to be going.

Once you had gotten both your hands and feet free of any rope, you turned your attention to the explosive, seeing if there was a safe way to remove it. It didn't appear so, you didn't know much about defusing bombs, especially not whole-made ones.

"I wouldn't take that off if I were you. It would be very tragic if it were to blow up." There was a pause as you heard footsteps near you along with the creak of a door. "Jim Moriarty, by the way. Hi..."