(Sherlock x Reader) Never trust those who are never truthful

Chapter 16 - The Warehouse

"Boys and Girls! Ladies and Gentlemen! Roll up! Roll up! For the show of a lifetime! The show of _____ _____ killing her very dearly beloved Sherlock Holmes, enjoy darlings!" There was that fucking voice all over again, the one that you learned to hate in a matter of minutes from talking to it. It was so...disgusting! The way it took such happiness and pride over what he'd done to Sherlock, poor poor Sherlock! It was just after the announcement that you truly realised the extent of Sherlock's injuries. He was bloody head to foot and his hair was sticky from it. He must have taken a few hits to the head as the rest of him seemed pretty unharmed, well except for the bloody ankles and wrists form being bound to the chair so savagely. It hurt you to see him this way yet you were hesitant to step forward because the blackened ground could be booby-trapped in any way possible and you just didn't feel like taking that risk. Instead you stepped carefully, cautiously, making sure that every move was calculated and precise. Not a toe out of line. Slowly but surely you finally made it over to him and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you did. It was over, you could free him and be done with this. Well that was what you thought until you felt the barrel of a gun pressed to your temple.

Not exactly what you were expecting but you did get to find out who the fuck that infuriating voice belonged to. "Oh dear me Mr. Holmes, you seem to have a feisty one there," he tutted right next to your ear and proceeded to drag you over to a chair and tie you down. Now, to say you put up a fight would not be justifying how you reacted to the man grabbing you and pushing you about, but no matter what you did he always seemed in control. He shoved you down onto a very rickety looking old chair facing Sherlock. The spotlight was still following you and your captor, who's face you hadn't managed to get a good look at before he had shoved you so harshly. He had brown hair and brown eyes, his hairline was receding a little and his eyes just didn't look quite...right. They were making you uncomfortable, you looked away to scan his outfit instead, a white suit which didn't seem to have a spec of dirt, or anything for that matter, on it. It was in pristine condition and seemed to be, well to your eyes at least, brand new. Designer too. Your eyes wondered back up to his face, he was grinning at you now. It wasn't nice, you didn't recognise him but the way he acted, the way he talked, the way his face reacted to your movements, seemed so very familiar. And yet. He reeked of admiration for you, which was odd for someone who wanted you to kill, well what you would call at least, your Husband.

"You do realise that I'll never hurt him, I only protect," you spat at his feet before giving him the dirtiest look you could muster. You grimaced at the expression on his face. His smile only grew wider and he stepped back a little before untying one of your hands. The action only confused you even more than before, but you fully realised his intentions when he placed a gun in you hand.

"You know Miss _____ I never really took you for the protecting type! Seeing as you're killing people all the time! Always thought you were a murderer at heart! Not a stupid simple bodyguard, anyone could do that. You disappoint me," he said as he stepped back and clapped his hands before red pin point lights shone on both you and the bloody man opposite. Sherlock just looked bored at the fact that this had just happened, you on the other hand were a little more shocked. You realised what they were and what threat was posed on the both of you. Now there was a spotlight on the man who had just done all of this. Perhaps this was all a show to him, nothing more. Just a bit of fun.

"You fucking bastard," you growled at him, hate seething in your words. Venom was in your eyes and you were ready to kill as soon as you could. But you knew that if you tried that now, you would be shot instantly.

"Now now _____, we don't want any bad language do we, keep this PG," he smiled over to you again, his arms spread out wide as if he were a bird, bathing in the sunlight above.

"PG?!" You said hysterically, laughing a little, "PG? Oh yeah, tell me to keep it PG when you decide to let me not kill Sherlock, which I'm sure is what you'll be about to ask and position my hand as such." You demonstrated and pointed the barrel of the gun directly at Sherlock's head, smiling at the man as you did so. Expectantly waiting for his approval.