Trust in Sherlock: Book 2

Moriarty spotted my grin and raised an eyebrow. He said nothing, but gave me a knowing smirk. I felt John begin to pull me along towards the front door once again. Sherlock said nothing.

Just as Sherlock gripped the door handle, Moriarty sighed loudly, "Wait a minute!" He shouted angrily. John tightened his grip even more on my arm as I flinched at Moriarty's sudden rise in tone. I heard the psychopath's satisfied laugh. "Much better. Now, I believe I requested something earlier."

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. The pain in my side sparked my irritability and impatience with this man.

"For God's sakes." John muttered. "Come on, we're leaving." He began pulling me towards the front door and Sherlock.

"Uh, uh, uh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Moriarty sang once again. As he spoke, a bright sniper's laser sight appeared and was aimed on the door ahead on us. "Anyone who steps out that door is dead."

I followed the beam to the top of the staircase. It disappeared into the darkness, making it impossible to see the sniper himself. No doubt there were others with him, in case something went wrong.

I glared at Moriarty. "You want a statement of gratitude? Fine. Thank you. Now can we go?"

Moriarty looked up and rocked back and forth on his feet. He hummed as he thought it over. "It didn't sound like you really meant it."

I clenched my hands into fists, both from irritation and the pain in my side that still made me hunch over slightly and lean against John for support. He was surprisingly sturdy for a man his height.

"Thank you." I heard Sherlock say from behind me, making both me and John look back at him in surprise.

Moriarty raised his eyebrows as he looked back at Sherlock. He blinked twice before saying, "Wait..." A small grin formed on his lips before it eventually widened and a laugh escaped him. The harsh, sudden laugh made me briefly flinch. Moriarty leaned against the staircase railing, laughing as he said, "Wait, did I just...hear Sherlock Holmes thank me?" He chuckled. "Oh, that is rich!"

"Can we go now?" Sherlock asked, sounding bored and impatient rather than sincere, like I thought I had heard in his voice just a moment ago.

Moriarty suddenly stopped laughing, causing an unsettling silence to sweep over us. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes boring into Sherlock's light ones. "I suppose. Though, I should probably tell you one more thing, Sherlock."

Sherlock nearly rolled his eyes as he faked a smile and said, with false sincerity, "Oh, do take your time, we're not in a hurry."

Beginning to retreat back up the staircase, Moriarty placed his hands behind his back. "Of course." He replied and stopped halfway up the stairs. "This won't be the last you see of me, Sherlock. Although, you won't have to worry about me getting in contact with Miss. Jones." He looked pointedly at me, sending a wave of uneasiness through my body. "I've fulfilled our deal. I owe you nothing."

With that, he seemed to melt into the shadows of the second floor. The sniper's laser sight disappeared as well, allowing Sherlock to quickly open the door.

The three of us rushed outside, the fresh air cooling our skin. Sherlock immediately raced to my side, wrapping my right arm around the back of his neck. He ducked down, allowing me a better grip around him. My left arm was around the back of John's neck for additional support.

"I can make it on my own." I said, my teeth gritting together as my side stretched and irritated my wound.

Sherlock scoffed. "No you can't. You were shot."

"I was grazed." I insisted.

John frowned and looked up at me as if to say 'are you kidding me?'. He said nothing and continued to support me.

Sherlock spoke up again. "Besides, we don't have very far to go."

John looked over at Sherlock. "Not very far? Sherlock, the nearest main road where we can catch a cab is a ten minute walk from here...and a fifteen minute hobble."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "John, there were, not one, but two gunshots from that house."

John went to reply when the sound of police sirens interrupted him. He huffed out a sigh of annoyance. "Bloody showoff." He muttered.

Flashing blue and red lights drew my attention to the street ahead of me, my vision beginning to blur as the adrenaline wore off and my blood loss began to affect my body.

John raised his left arm and waved the police cars over. A total of three cars pulled over. I recognised Greg Lestrade as he stepped out of the second car. He jogged over to us, raising his arms slightly as he asked, "What the hell have you done this time?"

"Just get us to the hospital, Lestrade. We'll explain in the car." John said and began leading me towards Lestrade's car before the DI could even respond.

Lestrade shook his head. "Maybe I should take you all to the mental hospital rather than Saint Bart's one of these days." He muttered before giving orders to the other police officers to patrol the area.