One Step Closer *Finished* - BBC Sherlock (For LovelyLinda)

[42686]

omg DX nooo! sherlock?? sh-sherlock?

[Naraya]

Oh My God!!!!! You are so GOOD!!!

[Always]

Cliff hangers, ahhhh!

Lovey update~

[LovelyLinda]

You know that i am madly in love with you, right?

But don't you stop it right there!!!.i hate cliffhangers

[AppleBlossom]

No more cliffhangers guys! I have been busy also writing the next few chapters as well for you! Thank you for being so patient, and no horrible teachers give me coursework, my updates will be a lot quicker!

Warning: There's some swearing and references to some not very nice stuff, just to warn ya!

_________________

Since Sherlock was too ill to think of the obvious; Molly had not been dragged away, nor had she left a sick Sherlock to fight his own battles. Molly heard a footsteps coming towards her and decided to run frantically to the other side of the building, before hiding in a dimly-lit office.

She managed to wedge a chair underneath the handle of the door, to make a makeshift lock. Molly looked to the glare of the working computer screen, files upon files of information stared back at her.

Becoming all detectivey, she began to get to work.

~*~

  

A piercing shriek of white noise shocked his eardrums horridly; Sherlock groaned in agony from his sleep. He heard a voice in his right ear, realising a phone pressed against his skin.

"Ugly face?"

Of course, the one and only. "Savannah?" Ignoring her tasteless insult, he continued, "W-Where are you?"

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"It is extremely dim in this room. I can't even see my own tied up hands." 

A frustrated sigh crackled down the hear-piece, "This is all your fault!"

"What has this got anything to do with me?"

"Well someone thought it would be fun to run around, chasing people and not look after their pet!"

"What are you talking about?"

Growling like some vicious hound, she spat, "You. Haven't. Given. Me. My. Medication. Today."

"You mean tonight."

"Oh fuck off, you bloody wanker!"

"Profanity will not be tolerated."

"Neither will my death be if you don't hurry up--!"

The walkie-talkie was abruptly thrown across the room; the hand holding it was the culprit of the now, spilt plastic and detached metal. Sherlock suddenly realised that he had been tied to a chair, a lamp shining directly in his eyes. How ironic.

"That's enough of that lunatic." The receptionist from earlier grinned back at Sherlock, who only gave a thick, impolite sniff. "That wasn't needed." Sherlock noted gesturing his nod toward the walkie-talkie.

"So, how much do you know?" The man cut him off.

"Well, I know about as much as you do."

"So, you know everything?"

"The fact that you said 'everything' certainly implies that there is something you're hiding--!" A fist connected with his jaw, it came so suddenly that it managed to create a pulsating throb inside his head. His lip had spilt open and had forced him to spit out a clump of blood onto the floor. "Are you quite finished?"

The receptionist came closer and sneered at him. "No, I haven't even started." Sherlock lurched from the chair had been tied to with throat-renching coughs. He spluttered loudly before managing to get his breathing back to normal.  

Sherlock could feel a burning tickle build rapidly on the inside of his sinuses. The bridge of his nose wrinkled, reddened nostrils twitching violently. "H’mmpt! Hhh…hh’MMsh!-uhh." He contained them as best he could, but the last one just escaped his grasp.

The receptionist just stared in awe, not really knowing what to say, or even understanding what exactly was happening in front of him. "Why don't you take a picture? Sell it to the papers." Sherlock smirked bitterly.

"Oh, I can do something better. I can make a video." Shuffling through some draws, he called out, "Are you familar with videos and the Internet, Mr Holmes?" He gazed at him waiting for an answer.

"The Internet does not interest me."

"Well, there's something I would like to show, or maybe you have heard it?" "Have you heard of 3 guys, 1 hammer?"

Sherlock kept his eyes on the man's back, frantically trying to remove the rope around his wrists. "No, I can't say I have." His lips began to part, as long hitching breaths were soon tormenting and teasing him. His icy eyes were squeezed closed. His head snapped forward, sneezing wetly to the side. "Hhn'GXtch!"

"It has become quite popular. Something of a phenomenon."

Sherlock quickly became frustrated of the strange man talking nonsense, his mind was on other things, like his now running nose. "Where's Savannah?"

"She's safe, but not for long." He moved a little closer, "The seditive doesn't work on her anymore; she's become immune to it. She needs something stronger to silence her."

Trying to get more oxygen into brain, he swallowed, "And Molly?"

"Molly?" The man's eyes lit up suddenly; Sherlock cursed under his breath, he felt sick to his stomach realising what he had done. "Oh, there's someone else here. Thank you very much Mr Holmes. We'll deal with our stowaway presently."

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Edited December 4, 2012 by AppleBlossom

[LovelyLinda]

Poor Sherlock =(

I know I'm probably sadistic, but I actually like where this is going *_*

Pleaaase don't keep us waiting =D

You know we want more. A lot more! I wish this story would never end

[AppleBlossom]

I'm back! I swear I'm not that sadistic, but I liked what I wrote. Sorry about the lack of sneezes, but when you're in Sherlock's situation I think sneezing is the last thing on your mind!

Enjoy anyway!

_________________

Molly was encased in the glow of the computer and now her phone. Calling the police to notify her and Sherlock's location was quickly deal with. She turned back to the computer. Feeling a little brave, she clicked on one and gaped at what she watched.

A man could be seen lying on his back in a wooded area, when two men came into the camera shot before thumping a blunt object repeatedly in his face. One attacker stabbed the man in the eye, before slowly twisting it in jerking motion with a screwdriver. Molly closed the video down, muffling her sobs inside her cupped hands.

A thump came from the inside of the cabinet in the corner of the room. Eyes darted to the silver doors, wondering what could have made such a loud noise inside the object. Her stomach fizzed, feeling as if hundreds of butterflies were swarming inside of her.

Opening the metal door, a bloodied body sprauled out from the little compartment. She let out a almost silent scream, even with analysing dead bodies, it was nothing compared to the magled heap in front of her. A bloodied name tag revealed the body to be the actual receptionist of the asylsm. They had killed the real staff and replaced them. Sherlock was out there. 

Save me, Sherlock! Oh please, dear god-- help me!

No, wait. Sherlock? He was too busy solving this damn case, he didn't have time to come and save her as well. Sherlock couldn't help her; not today.

~*~

Different eyes had been forced to watch the same, disturbing video. The guard had given Sherlock the privealge to watch 3 guys 1 hammer. 

"It's inspiring, no?"

His stomach worked itself into a knot and Sherlock could feel his muscles contract uncomfortably. Swallowing was a mistake, not because his throat was sore but because it made his stomach twist into an even tighter ball. This forced him to stay quiet.

"They were on to something, them too. But they lacked the imagination and skill, killing people for the fun of it, it's just dull. Murder is an art; and who better to be my first piece than Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock's mind continued to wander over questions and possible answers as the precious minutes ticked by. Molly, where did you go? That seemed to be the most prominent question in his mind; he already knew that this lunatic wanted to do some renacting, and Sherlock guessed he was going to die.

Pity.  

"Maybe your Molly would made a beautiful centrepiece--!" Sherlock pulled against his ropes, he almost thought he might break his wrists, "Don't you even dare."

"I was thinking about stuffing her, preserving her 'beauty' if you will. She'll be my very own living doll. Oh, sorry; she won't be living."

"You..." Sherlock growled as he leaned toward the man, his breath shuddered violently, "...are n-not...eh'ISHhhuu!... getting your hands on Molly! iiSCHhhtt!...neither of them!" He just managed to stifle them into his shoulder before turning back to the guard.

"That's what you think." He moved Sherlock to face the computer screen, where he realised there was a webcam staring right back at him. Untying his wrists, he retied his own arms to the arms of the chair one at a time.

He then turned to face the webcam, "Hello again. Sorry about the wait, but I think you'll forgive me when you see the prize I am giving you." He gestured to Sherlock, "Our finest masterpiece to date; and I am certain you will play the highest price for this view of this beautiful--!" The pounding in his head had spilt his mind in two before screaming at the man.  

"Oh, piss off. If you are going to kill me, stop being such a melodramatic dick, and get on with it!" His throat screaming in protest against the increasingly long and loud insult, Sherlock watched the whites of the man's eyes flare in hatred and murderous anger.

There was a loud bang as the guard forcefully opened a drawer, before pulling out a long and immensely sharp object. "How about a icepick to start us off?" Playing with the smooth metal, eyes never leaving his weapon of choice. "Pick a number from 1 to 10, Mr Holmes."

This was going to be dragging. "Eight."

"Eight lines then." The man rolled up his coat sleeve of his right arm. Wait a moment, lines? Oh god, no. His arm. He was going to slice his arm.

Breathe, he thought. Just stay calm. The breaths came slow, forced, as he willed himself not to call out in pain. The air was too heavy, too thick to get inside his lungs, and for a brief moment he was quite honestly afraid he might pass out cold. 

His eyes slowly became like slits, his breath shuddering violently. The itch was becoming more and more intense. "Hh'kKSCHH! ..nhh-- Ggxt!" Sighing and half-moaning from the annoying trickling of mucus inside his nose. 

Closing his eyes shut, a sharp cold, metallic pain cut through his right lower arm. "One." The long drawn out word made Sherlock's teeth go on edge, "Two." Another slice let blood trickle down his pale arm. Tears welling in the corner of his eyes, wrists violently thrashing against the tight ropes. "...Three." Air slivered back through his teeth, drawing a painful breath in. The icepick was now covered in a crimson sheen, clots of blood sliding down the thick pole of metal. 

He writhed in his seat with the sheer pain and his breathing came out in sharp, shallow rasps. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and covered his foreheard in a thin sheen. The weapon was lifted up before the screen of the computer went black.

The lights blinked and flashed back to life, before a white sheet covered screen. "Hey, your microphone is on." A woman's voice spoke softly out into the computer-lit room.

That voice; Sherlock was surprised that it wasn't Savannah's. The high-pitched whine came again, "Stop hitting Sherlock! He's ill enough already as it is!"

"Jesus Christ, Molly." Sherlock groaned underneath his breath. "There is so much information just stored in these computers, I wonder what would happen if I emailed this to Scotland Yard? Is this data even legal?" The man slowly stood up, moving toward the talkative device. "That one isn't. Neither is this one. Ah, that one too."

Sherlock could hear Molly grinning through the microphone, he barely registered it due to the amount of blood he was losing. "Anyway I've almost gathered them all and I'll be sending them all to the--."

"Stop this! Who are you?!"

"Maybe the police force will have to deal with you."

Shrieking violently into the room, he cried, "Someone stop this now!"

"I would appreciate it if you didn't shout in my ear." Molly sighed, as if were a normal situation to be in. "Sherlock, are you there? I wonder if I'm even helping you right now."

"I'm here, Molly." He sighed weakly.

In the end, through the static, her words seemed to hold him; as did the oncoming crash of the door hitting the floor below.

Savannah launched into the room, smashing the guard in the face with an axe, sighing with relief she turned towards Sherlock, blinking at the sight in front of her, before getting down to work.

"Sorry I took so long, night-blindness remember?" Undoing the ropes from his hands, she grabbed her axe and swung it over her shoulder. "Come on ugly, let's go and get the pretty lady."

Edited December 11, 2012 by AppleBlossom

[Emily]

Okay now I may be the sadist one here...I am totally digging this crazy psycho scraping lines with an icepick thingy

It was incredibly...sexy? No wait, suspensefully sexy...IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. And in terms of English literary terms, the imagery was so awesome I could see everything happening in my head.

[tma]

Oh my gosh... this just gave me the shivers.

Great job!!

Can't wait to see where it goes next.

[AppleBlossom]

I'm just quickly posting this cause I should be asleep, I have school tomorrow! It's only a short part, but I have writing other chapter after this one, so updates will be quicker... Hopefully!

________________

Sirens and skrieking blue lights blurred Sherlock's vision. The pounding inside of his tired head seemed to match the throbbing coming from the blood stained skin of his arm. Pulling down the sleeves of his coat and shirt, concealing the bloodied strikes across his forearm. Fabric sticking to open flesh, he winced at the pain discreetly, not caring about his best shirt being ruined.

He turned to look once more at the asylsm, when Savannah met his gaze, a police officer cuffing her as she spoke, "Hey, Sherlock. I'm gonna go to prison. Can you help me out?" Sherlock merely blinked, "You killed someone, but I can do something about that."

"Thanks sweet cheeks, see you around."

Dragged away and shoved into the back of a police car, he muttered to himself. "I highly doubt that."

"God, that didn't turn out too well." Sherlock nearly jumped two feet, if it wasn't for his mind quickly forcing him not to jump out of his skin. Molly seemed to have come from nowhere. A fevered rage came from Sherlock, still bitter about the whole ordeal.

 

"Where did you go?! I told you to stay put!"

"Well excuse me! I see I get no thank you for saving you back here!" Sherlock turned away before a hand on his shoulder shoved him back. "No, you're not getting out of this one! Without me having to leave you; we would have both been in there, being tortured to death, and we would of had the home video to prove it!"

The tickling had been gradually increasing in Sherlock's nose. His eyelids began to flutter, his breath started to hitch, slowly becoming faster and heavier. His head bent down further and further back, his eyes began filled with irritated tears.

"And this is what I get?! Even more unsatifiatory rubbish coming from your bloody--!" 

"huhh'ITTSCHHUu!"

"Bless you." Her anger was abruptly stopped short, realising that he was still ill; even if he completely denied it. 

Sherlock's breath hitched, muffled desperately with the back of his hand, which hid his flaring nostrils; he swirled away, his back facing Molly. He released the sneeze into the air, not really caring if any unsuspecting person was there. "Hhk!--NGX'tsh!" he sniffed, looking back to Molly.

"Bless you, again." she murmured, brow furrowing. "Sherlock, are..." she swallowed back her concern, trying not to offend him again. "...Are you coming down with something?"

"'m fide."

"Are we seriously going to go through that again? After I saved you from those thugs while you were passed out in that chair! So I'll ask you again, are you alright?"

He blushed at that, glaring at the pavement before growling out a low, "Yes."  But then - realising he had already given that excuse - he admitted reluctantly, "A... cold. It's nothing."

"I shouldn't of taken you outside."

A hand tentatively rubbed his nose, "Please Molly, I'm not a child--!"

"Well, don't act like one!" A deafening and uncomfortable silence washed over the two. While Sherlock continued to calmly look at the girl, yet Molly suddenly looked down. Vibrant eyes were glued to her shoes, afraid to see the heated anger in Sherlock's eyes. "S-Sorry."

He made a low, quiet noise before walking past Molly, she however, bit on her lip. She found herself ever so slightly admiring at the way strided in his walk. His body; strong, soft and solid. His devishly-handsome looks almost startled her. Captivating her and charming her. Her eyes unconciously wandered down from his shoulders to his lower back, to his...

"See anything interesting?"

"Uh.. No?"

"Good. Well, better luck next time." Sherlock's frame sharply turned away, before wobbling with an array of painful sneezes. "Hh'ISSCH! ihhtt! eh... Nh'nXSchh!"

Trust her to get caught for looking at his arse. For goodness sake, Molly Hooper! He nearly got butchered to death and you're checking him out?! She left disgusted with herself. Couldn't she do anything right? Shaking her head, she quickly set off to catch the runaway Sherlock.

[tma]

Her eyes unconciously wandered down from his shoulders to his lower back, to his...

"See anything interesting?"

"Uh.. No?"

"Good. Well, better luck next time."

OMG!!! :wub: That was brilliant! *grins*

Not that I would do that...

This is great- I was So excited to see more up! Can't wait to see more. :)

[LovelyLinda]

This was FANTASTIC!!!!

I'm sorry it took me so long to comment. I was having a rather busy time.

Thank you so much <3

Don't you ever dare saying you were a bad writer again, I could see the whole story happening inside my head.

Just very few writers can do that, and you are one if those.

You are incredibly talented

You literally killed me with this, I really felt sympathy for poor Sherlock...

I don't know how much I can thank youuuuuu...

I'm really thinking about writing you a story (even though I should be studying for a-levels).

What do you think of a 11th Doctor story? Because after this glorious story I won'tbe able to write any good Sherlock.

[AppleBlossom]

A very late Christmas present to all you Sherlock lovers out there!

__________________________

Street lights bloomed like tangerine tulips, as whistling winds lashed the trees with sheets of blistering rain. The black rain pelted down so hard it felt like it would even leave holes in the pavement.

There were no more cabs out this late in the stormy night of London, and even if there were, the odd couple had no money left on them. They had decided to walk back; well, Sherlock had decided to run off leaving Molly to go after him, which was okay until the heavens opened.

The rain was quickening, and was now falling to the point where Sherlock could feel the rain coming down his neck, seeping through the wool of his coat and into his shirt. The urge to cough was carving away at his lungs, but there was absolutely no way he was going to show another demonstration of weakness in front of Molly.

"Molly. Take my hand!" Brown eyes widened in shock; had she heard him right? Sherlock wasn't going to wait a lifetime for her to listen to him, so he grabbed her hand and pulled her along for the ride. Frozen hands clutched to each other; finding shelter, they hid underneath a cafe terrace. 

 

Letting their breath return to normal -Sherlock's, however, took much longer than expected - He could feel a tickle brewing inside his sore throat. Coughing and spluttering against the rain, the vile burn in his throat had returned once again.

Where his body had felt at a loss for strength, his mind had quickly followed with it. He felt the light tingle beneath the bridge of his nose, as tension rose rapidly, he sharply turned his back to Molly, "hih hehh... Nn-Gkktt!" He blinked a few times, suddenly feeling ridiculously overheated and clammy underneath his heavy coat.

Sherlock swallowed, irritably noting that this simple action made his throat burn. "Molly, take my coat." Speaking just a few words only made his throat ache more painfully, and induced a tickle that was teetering dangerously close to becoming a violent cough.

"No, S-Sherlock, you h-h-have it!" Shivering like mad, Molly batted the coat away, before a frustrated Sherlock threw it over her head then wandered out into the rain. Molly bit her lip in anger, feeling the strangely warm coat surrounded her.

"HRRRSHSH!" Oh yeah, the runaway detective. She'd have to get a leash for him if he kept running off like that.

Running after him, Sherlock was too busy dealing with an internal battle of his own. No matter how hard he willed the itch to disappear, his pathetic vessel would always fail him. The tickle was fierce, burning into his sinuses. Suddenly, his head snapped to the side, releasing a congested sneeze onto the floor. "Heh'ESSHH'AAH!"

"Sherlock, please--!"

"I don't want it Molly!" Snapping through the loud crashing of the rain, Molly shook her head, "No, not the coat," meeting his eyes, she sighed and laughed a little at his confusion. "You; Sherlock."

"Can't you just think about yourself for a moment? Your health?" She moved closer, her voice soft and low, "You're not indestructible, you know. I'm not trying to catch you out and see you when you're weak; I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore."

Downcast eyes gleamed under the street lights; blue and shining eyes conveyed what he finally decided to admit. "I was wrong. I should of listened to you."

"What?"

"Please don't make me say it again." The trickle of rain filled the thick silence. Molly wrapped the coat tighter around her head, still processing what he had just said. Sherlock was sodden. The bridge of his nose crinkled in anticipation as a pale hand clasped his tingeing red nostrils. "Hih'eXgkt!"

"Here. Half and half." She lifted the coat from her head, giving Sherlock one half of his soaked coat. Reluctantly, Sherlock obliged to Molly's request; and as Molly dared to hold Sherlock's shoulder with her right hand, Sherlock slid his left around her waist. Silently; they made it back to the warmth and safety of Baker Street.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Just relax okay! I haven't finished the story, I'm just taking a short break from it. Don't start throwing things at me haha! I decided to split this fic into two clunks, because I thought it would be easier for you guys to read! I will not abandon this story *crosses heart*, I have exams this month and I seriously need to concentrate! I swear every time I have exams, my brain decides that this is the time to throw a whole of inspiration and ideas at me. I love you guys and thank you for all of your lovely comments! You're the reason I love writing *ahem*And my sneezy fantasies!*ahem*

See you soon! xx

[Emily]

; A ; Goodluck on exams! I love how he just tosses his coat at her and then runs out to sneeze. *lurks patiently for more*

[LovelyLinda]

"Can't you just think about yourself for a moment? Your health?" She moved closer, her voice soft and low, "You're not indestructible, you know. I'm not trying to catch you out and see you when you're weak; I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore."

Downcast eyes gleamed under the street lights; blue and shining eyes conveyed what he finally decided to admit. "I was wrong. I should of listened to you."

"What?"

"Please don't make me say it again."

For some reason I love this part <3

That's just soooooo Sherlock!!

Thank you so much for writing this masterpiece, I'm so glad that you even DEDICATED it to someone like...meeeeee =D

It makes me unbelievably proud and happy. Thank you, love!

I hope your exams will be well, I know what you're going through, I will also be writing a-levels soon, I'm horribly scared.

Now it's really getting serious. My whole job career depends on it. Gulp.

Good luck with yours xxx

I understand that you *pause* the story, and I'm not disappointed, don't worry,

it'll be a pleasant surprise when you pick up this story again. I will be waiting patiently