A/N: Helloah you guys! Here's the next chapter, hope you didn't wait too long, sorry. :3
My friend said she'd treat me on an ice cream or something if I'd get 5000 hits. Sooo, help me guys! It'd be appreciated! :)
Anyways, enjoy your chapter!
John and Lestrade's eyes widened in pure amazement. "She's what?" They shouted as Sherlock crouched down beside her, checking for a pulse.
"There's a pulse.." he whispered quietly before looking at the D.I. expectantly.
Lestrade immediately started to shout to whatever officer was listening downstairs.
"We need an ambulance! The victim is still alive! Can anybody copy?" he called down before receiving an "Affirmative, sir!" from a Sergeant.
John was busy helping Sherlock to get the woman in a different position so she could be revived, if needed. "How the hell did she survive this?" the former army doctor asked, still not completely over the fact that a woman who had been laying here for four days was still alive.
"Probably the maggots." Sherlock pointed out after checking her head wound. "We need to clean it and she needs to be taken to the hospital."
The blonde licked his lips nervously, knowing it wasn't impossible. No, just very, very improbable. But then again, things always were with Sherlock.
"Lestrade?" he asked the D.I. with a look of 'Are you getting any response, and if not, get your arse over to the phone and call a bloody ambulance', before the doctor in him focused on the patient.
The Detective Inspector grumbled softly at the look, but he got his phone out of his pocket and started dialing, after having shot a glance at the woman who was being comforted by John.
The army doctor had taken his shirt off and pressed it against her head, much to Sherlock's liking. Greg couldn't help but smile, but then the other line picked up.
"Yes, hello, with who am I speaking?" a voice on the other end asked, it belonging to a female.
"You're speaking with Detective Inspector Lestrade, from Scotland Yard. I need an ambulance on Northumberland Street 58. And it needs to be here quickly."
The woman gave a hum to show she had understood and then told him it would be there soon, ten minutes tops.
"Ten minutes, max." Greg said as he put down the phone.
John nodded. "Okay, I can keep her stable for that period of time." he murmured before continuing to treat her to the best of his abilities while also checking for a pulse every other minute.
The woman got carried away on a gurney, a moment or two before John stood up, only to have Sherlock hug him from behind.
"You're brilliant, you know that?" he mused and kissed John's neck.
The doctor chuckled and hummed happily before turning serious. "But I know what you're up to, young man. And no way that's going to happen. You've got a case. Go figure it out."
The consulting detective sighed but drew his arms away. "Fine. But do please put your shirt back on or get a new one. You're distracting me..." he mumbled and went to Lestrade, leaving a blushing John who quickly went downstairs to look for a new, non blood-stained shirt.
"I presume you want me to tell you how I think it happened?" Sherlock asked with a small smirk. After the D.I. nodded, he started talking.
"Came here with someone she trusted and went upstairs. Door got locked behind her by that 'friend', and she panicked. Her knuckles were bloodied and bruised from the knocking on the door, and she would only knock that desperately if she thought she had a chance to get to the person outside. She clearly didn't." he rambled, and then walked to a corner in the room, from where he got an old, half-rotten baseball bat. He looked it up and down and smiled before handing it to a forensic. "There's some skin and blood left on it. Hers, presumably, but give it to the forensics lab technicians anyway."
"Hold on..." Lestrade mumbled and stopped Sherlock before he could continue. "How do you mean, she got locked up? The door was open when we got here." he speculated with a frown.
The sigh Sherlock let out was rather rude, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as if to stop himself from hitting the inspector.
"Well, you see, detective inspector, unless you think the assaulter can walk through solid masses, I will just stick with the hypothesis that he had a key and opened the door, hm?" he quirked up a questionable eyebrow.
Lestrade turned a soft red before loosening his collar a bit and gesturing Sherlock to continue. The detective gladly did so. "Like I said, my hypothesis is probably correct. She got hit from behind with a blunt object. Now the only thing we have to do is figure out who it was..." he mused and brought his hands up to his chin, walking out of the room.
A/N: Sooooooo! Hoped you enjoyed that. It's turning into a three-chapter sequel (basically, because I have to think up the plot a bit... Oopsie). Anyway, please don't forget to comment because it makes me happy! AND! 5000 hits! We can do it! Laterz!