Gun Point · Sherlock x reader
Silence was the only thing you were able to hear in the empty place, a silence that made the hairs at the back of your neck stand. You and Sherlock were hiding in a dark hallway of the museum you two were as you two were trying to catch a serial killer.
It was all well until Sherlock started to deduce the man which angered him, he took his gun out and started to shoot at you both, that's how you two ended up in the current situation.
"You just had to point out his alcoholic issues!"
You hissed at the detective who immediately covered your mouth with his hand to keep you quiet. He looked around before taking his hand off your mouth and saying in a low voice
"Well, it was obvious!"
You rolled your eyes at him, it could pass a thousand years and you wouldn't be able to understand the man in front of you.
"Yes, but not because it's 'obvious' you are going to say it out loud to a serial killer, Sherlock!"
You mirrored his voice because even if you admitted it or not, you were scared. The guy was a psychopath, who knows, he could have a list with different techniques on how to kill his victims as every crime scene you and Sherlock investigated, was committed in a different and creepy way.
The detective rolled his eyes at you before grabbing your hand and walking silently from your hiding spot.
In any other kind of situation you would blush like a tomato just by the simple act of Sherlock grabbing your hand. You loved when he did that and always wondered why he took your hand in different situations.
The detective would grab your hand while you two are walking on the streets or while you two are sitting in the back of a cab. Sometimes he would held it to drag you out of the flat and of course, to show you his experiments.
Your daydream was interrupted at the sound of gunshots not far from where you and Sherlock were standing. He put his finger over his lips, signalling you to be quiet to which you nodded and he started to walk at a fast pace through another hallway.
You two were hiding behind a pillar, the man you two were trying to capture earlier that day was now pacing near your hiding spot "(y/n), listen to me," said Sherlock in a low voice.
"You are going to run towards the emergency exit, okay? Don't look back. I'll distract him so you can get out."
You shook your head frantically, not wanting to let him alone with a serial killer on the loose. You opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you with a kiss. You were surprised to say the least but kissed him back nonetheless.
"I promise I'll be alright. I should have done that sooner."
You chuckled slightly at Sherlock's words before he peered over to the hallway where he heard the man was a moment ago. When his eyes didn't see him, Sherlock said to you
"Go, I'll see you outside."
Letting go of his hand, you ran towards the exit while Sherlock stepped out of his hiding spot, hoping that you had made it to the exit. His eyes roamed around the big gallery, he scanned a big chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the rope that held it in place was a couple of feet away from his current position but he would make it if only he took a couple of steps to the left.
"I believe I have something that is yours, Mr. Holmes."
The raspy voice of the killer echoed around the gallery as the detective froze on his spot, the only thing that rushed into his mind was that you didn't made it to the exit. Slowly, he turned around only to notice that, in fact, the man held you in front of him, a gun pointed at your temple while one of his arms held you by the neck.
Sherlock met your terrified gaze and the look of utter fear in your face would be engraved in his mind forever. Tears pooled in your eyes as you stared at Sherlock. You tried to remove the man's arm from your neck but that only made him tighten his grip on you, cutting your supply of air almost entirely.
"Let her go. She doesn't have anything to do with this. It’s me who you want."
The detective stated calmly but sternly, his face was as emotionless as ever but his eyes showed all the worry and stress he was feeling at the moment.
You could see it, you could see how he was trying to think of something to get you out of the sticky situation you were in. If only I had run faster, you thought to yourself never breaking eye contact with the man you grew to love.
"But I believe she does, don't you darling?"
He whispered in your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. A tear rolled down your cheek slowly as you thought that maybe this was the end.
Suddenly, sirens could be heard outside the museum but that didn't ease your nerves as the gun seemed to push deeper on your temple. Then, Sherlock started to walk to the left, trying to reach the pole that held the chandelier.
The man snarled, now pointing his gun at the detective who raised his hands in the air to show he wasn't armed. The grip on your neck tightened even more, not letting air into your lungs and Sherlock knew you had a couple of seconds before fainting for the lack of oxygen.
"It's me who you want." said the consulting detective "It was me who discovered your game." While he was saying this, he approached the rope more and more.
"It was me who solved your murders."
You started to see black spots, clouding your vision as your lungs screamed for air.
"It was me who caught you."
The hand that was trying to get the man's arm off your neck slipped from it as Sherlock was now standing in front of the pole, just where he wanted.
"It is me who you want to kill."
The man who was holding you was now pointing his gun back at your temple but as Sherlock said those words, he pressed a bottom, a click was heard and then, the chandelier was falling above you two.
In pure instinct, the man pushed you forwards as he tried to protect himself with his hands but failed miserably as the huge piece of decoration crashed over him.
Sherlock was quick to catch you as you were pushed, gasping for air and falling to the ground. Bringing him with you as he held you tightly against his chest.
While you were still trying to catch your breath, silent tears ran down your cheeks in pure shock.
"It's alright. It's okay now, (y/n). It's over."
The detective whispered in a surprisingly soft voice, running his fingers through your hair as you clutched his shirt in your hand, sobbing loudly.
The door of the gallery was forced open and in came Lestrade followed by five policemen. They saw the figure of none other than Sherlock Holmes kneeling on the floor with you in his arms as you cried heavily, they also saw how the chandelier was broken and destroyed and also a body underneath it.
"Check the rest of the building, I want all the footage of what happened here." ordered Lestrade and the other five officers to disappear in a hallway.
"Is she hurt, Sherlock?" asked the silver-haired man. He looked down at you and said "No, just in shock." Lestrade nodded and said "I need to ask you and (y/n) a few questions."
Sherlock glared at Lestrade before he replied "That can wait, I'm taking (y/n) back to the flat." Greg noticed the determination in his voice so he decided not to say more about it.
For the first time in his whole life, the consulting detective was scared. Not about his life but about yours, he feared he was going to lose you that night. You, the woman he loved and that he knew you loved him back. The one who has always stood for him and supported him.
He couldn't deny that he was in love with you but that night, when he thought he was going to lose, he realised how much time he wasted, with his fears and the denial of his emotions.
Sherlock stood up from the ground, carrying you in his arms effortlessly as he walked out of the gallery with you burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent that brought you comfort and the feeling of protection.
You didn't know how you arrived at the flat but you were glad you were back home. You were sitting on the couch, your knees were pressed against your chest as you had your chin over your knees. Suddenly, you felt how the couch next to you sunk in and when you turned around you noticed it was Sherlock who sat down next to you.
"How are you feeling, (y/n)?"
He asked, you could hear the worry in his voice as well as in his eyes. You were always able to see through his eyes, to tell the emotions he tried so hard to not show. they were crystal clear to you.
Was your response. A response so naive and without further explanations.
"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have told you to run." your head snapped at his direction "Sherlock, what happened back there is not your fault. Don't you dare blame it on you, you hear me? don't you dare."
You two stared into each other's eyes for a couple of seconds, maybe even minutes before the two of you embraced each other. A very much needed hug.
"I thought I was going to lose you."
You heard him whisper in your (h/c) hair and in that moment, you understood how deep Sherlock's feelings were for you.
He tightened his arms around you, afraid that if he let you go you would vanish into thin air.
"No-one... is going to harm you ever again. Not as long as I'm breathing."
You looked up at Sherlock after he said those words to you. Warm wrapped around your heart as you heard him say that to you.
"I love you, Sherlock."
Your words were so pure and genuine that a plethora of emotions washed over the detective.
"And I love you too, (y/n)."
Smiling softly at him, the both of you stayed there, tangled in each other's arms for the rest of the night, thankful for having the other by your side after a chaotic night.
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Thanks for reading my sweet sugarcubes, I love you all and stay safe
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