A/N: My first Sherlock fanfic, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or anything associated with it. I just use the ideas to relieve me from my boredom!
Text from Hamish Holmes (6:47 PM): Dad, Moriarty's got me. Help. -HH
Text to Hamish Holmes (6:47 PM): Where are you? -SH
Text from Hamish Holmes (6:49 PM): Warehouse, lots of antique furniture, judging by its condition it's been about five years since it was abandoned. -HH
Text to Hamish Holmes (6:50 PM): Found it. Hold on. -SH
Text from Hamish Holmes (6:53 PM): Hurry. I'm afraid. -HH
Text to Hamish Holmes (6:53 PM): Don't let him hurt you. -SH
Text from Hamish Holmes (6:55 PM): He's got me tied up. -HH
Text to Hamish Holmes (6:56 PM): Bite him if you have to. -SH
Text from Hamish Holmes (6:59 PM): He's coming back. I'm scared. -HH
Text to Hamish Holmes (6:59 PM): I'm on my way. Hold on, I'm doing all that I can to get there. -SH
Text to Hamish Holmes (7:02 PM): Hamish? -SH
Text to Hamish Holmes (7:05 PM): Answer me. Please. -SH
Text from Hamish Holmes (7:10 PM): Help! -HH
Sherlock sprinted out of the police car despite Lestrade's desperate attempts to keep him calm. He drew his gun and entered the warehouse. Hamish sat on a chair in the very center, tied to it with thick rope, looking quite terrified. Moriarty stood over the boy, a hand on his shoulder.
"Get away from him." Sherlock's voice was low and steeped with anger. He glared at Moriarty with fiery eyes.
Moriarty smiled. "Sherly, you came. Glad to see you."
Sherlock practically shook with anger. "Give me back my son," he barked through gritted teeth.
Moriarty shrugged. "Okay." He began walking away, and as he did, red dots of light appeared across Sherlock's chest. Similar ones appeared on Hamish. Snipers. "Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes," Moriarty called back.
"This can't be it, Jim," Sherlock said. "It's too quick, too easy, too boring. This can't be it." Moriarty had disappeared out of sight, however. Sherlock took a step forward, testing to see if the snipers would allow him to move. When they did, he rushed to Hamish. A shot rang out, and Hamish's eyes widened as he looked to the red spot blooming on the white fabric that covered his left shoulder. Sherlock was sprinting now. His mind raced, wondering what the significance of it all was. Briefly, he thought of the wound's similarity to John's. It didn't make sense. He crouched beside Hamish, supporting the boy as he examined the wound. Not bad, he'd live. "What does it all mean," he muttered. "It's too simple, too easy. There has to be more." There was a noise on the other side of the warehouse. A figure sat in a chair, obscured by shadow. Then a light flickered on.
John sat tied to one of the antique chairs. A single red light was pointed at his chest, just above his heart. Sherlock called out, "What does it mean, Moriarty?"
Moriarty appeared next to John. "Remember what I said that first night at the pool, Sherlock? I'll burn the heart out of you. Well, it's time. You must choose one of them." He nodded at John, then at Hamish. "One must live, one must die. Who will it be , Sherly dear? Your only son, or your blogger,and if I'm correct, object of long-harbored affection?"
Sherlock's eyes widened slightly. His mind searched for an option. He couldn't let either of them die. Then, it dawned on him. He stood slowly, clutching his gun, and slowly raised it to his temple.
"I choose myself," he said calmly.
Moriarty raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Valiant. Playing hero, are we?" Sherlock stared back, unblinking. He clicked the safety off. His finger tightened on the trigger. Moriarty looked back, the same smirk on his faced. They stayed that way for several minutes, then Moriarty spoke.
"Well, this has been fun, but stalemates can be so tedious. Ta!" With that, he shot Sherlock in the side and left without another word. The red lights disappeared.
Sherlock fell to the ground, clutching his side. His vision swam. He was vaguely aware of John's voice, far off, Lestrade's face, blurry, and lastly a screeching siren as all fell to black.
I know it makes no sense, but it isn't supposed to, you'll see, it fits in! Until next time!