Sherlock contemplated the teen sitting on the doorstep as the taxi pulled up at Baker Street.
At first he wondered why she was there, she had a key and Mrs Hudson was in if she had left hers in her own apartment, and Eve had taught her how to pick locks so she could certainly get in. So why was she sitting on the doorstep?
Sherlock's question was answered when she pulled her hand away from her side to wave at the taxi. He heard John gasp at the sight of the teen's hand, before the doctor wrenched the door open and ran to her side.
Sherlock's eyes were focused on the teen's hand however and the blood it was covered with. His eyes started scanning the floor as he got out of the taxi, searching for the trail...
"Sherlock" John shouted, causing the detective to come out of his thoughts. Sherlock walked over to John, recognising the fear in his friend's voice.
Sherlock's eyes met John's and Sherlock pulled his phone out of his pocket and phoned for an ambulance. Normally John would have sorted it, but there was too much blood on the teen's hand, and so much fear in John's eyes, that told Sherlock this one couldn't be handled here.
"About five minutes before it gets here" Sherlock told John as he placed his phone back in his pocket.
"What happened Soph?" John asked the teen, who chuckled lightly in response.
"Remember the spy Moriarty's group had watching us after his death" John nodded, frowning at the lack of explanation. "He thought he could finish the job four grown men couldn't" she chuckled again and prised her coat open.
Sherlock's eyes widened as she revealed the t-shirt underneath. It had been pink this morning, now most of it was stained red from the blood seeping out of the wound in her abdomen. Sherlock's quicksilver eyes scanned the dyed material until it found the rip and the wound.
His mind set to work as he found the small tear. Just large enough for it not to be on a Swiss army knife, but small enough for it to be easily concealed. Conclusion: a pen-knife of some sort that could be easily dropped after the attack.
Sophia chuckled shakily as she saw Sherlock starting to scan the floor. She dove into the pocket of her coat and pulled a blood-covered switchblade out of her pocket, placing it in the detective's open hand and leaning against John who was sat down on the step next to her.
"How long have you been sitting here?" John asked. Sophia looked raised her bloodied hands with her fingers spread, showing them to John and Sherlock.
Ten minutes.
John caught Sophia and held her upright as she began to fall forward. Sherlock hailed the taxi that was driving behind the ambulance, John handing Sophia over and frowning as he saw Sherlock get into the taxi. Sherlock held the door open and John got in.
"Scotland Yard" Sherlock told the driver.
"What about Sophia?" John asked, glaring as Sherlock ignored him. John nodded as Sherlock held up the switchblade, clearly intending to get it processed by Molly.
"Besides, she'll be in surgery for the next hour at least" Sherlock stated, his gaze shifting to the window, watching London go past.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
"What is that?" Molly asked as Sherlock handed her the weapon. The consulting detective waved his hand dismissively.
"I'll explain later" John said to the confused Molly, "We just need fingerprints"
"Who have you used that on freak?" Sally Donovan asked as she entered the room, nodding to the knife in Molly's hand. John glared angrily at Donovan, about to speak when Sherlock interrupted.
"I have not injured anyone today, it is Sophia that is the injured one" Sherlock told Sally, who snorted derisively in response.
"So the mini-freak got knifed" she muttered, "Probably your fault anyway"
John snarled and Sally's eyes widened as she realised she's annoyed the army doctor. Sherlock raised his eyebrows at John and frowned, his frown deepening as Sally laughed at John.
That's when John snapped.
"How could it be Sherlock's fault?" the ex-army doctor started. Sherlock smirked despite the situation when he recognised his friends' tone, the one he used when talking to Anderson, the one he used to pull people apart.
"After all, Sherlock and I spent the past week working with Eve and Phee and most of the kidnapping division to get her back. You got the week off, but you always kept an eye on the investigation and gave the information to Mycroft, who gave you money in exchange"
"Nicely noticed" Sherlock interrupted, before taking over.
"If it's anyone's fault Sophia's hurt it's yours. You chose to become Mycroft's spy. That information got leaked to the remains of Moriarty's lackeys, so if she dies. It's on you"
Sherlock looked to Molly and nodded as she began to gather evidence from the switchblade, then turned on his heel and walked out of the lab doors, his coat billowing out behind him. John followed, leaving a stunned Donovan and a working Molly behind them.
The two men shared a victorious grin as they climbed into a taxi outside Scotland Yard.
"Did you enjoy that?" Sherlock asked as the taxi moved towards the hospital. John turned to him with a huge grin and nodded.
"I can see why you enjoy that, the look on her face was priceless." John's grin got wider as he spoke.
"You should join me in doing that more often, she really didn't expect it from you"
"Which makes it all the more hilarious" John agreed.