S.O.S
Moldy encrusted air penetrated my nostrils, jolting me out of unconsciousness. I gasped, sucking in the putrid scent around me, immediately causing me to gag at the foul sensation. I coughed violently, my chest heaving with exertion. I tried opening my eyes, only to find the world around me to remain dark. It didn't take long for my senses to kick in, alerting me to the fact that something immovable was obscuring my vision. I shook my head to the side and began twisting my body, testing the restraints binding me to an unseen object.
Chair. I thought, confirming my guess with a flick of my wrist. I sniffed the air, this time hesitantly, to see if I could match the scents around me, to the scents I had experienced in my life. I mentally thanked Sherlock for forcing me to learn hundreds of rare and odd smells, including chemicals on the periodic table. I allowed a small smile to grace my lips, before frowning, as the realization of my situation sank in.
By the tight feeling of the space around me, I concluded that the room I was bound in was small, and old, judging by the decayed odor enveloping me. Is that …leather? I wondered, inhaling the foul air once more. The smell was similar to a pair of hot pants I had worn one evening while trying to seduce the indifferent consulting detective. Expensive then. I thought, my mind swirling with locations that I could be positioned at. I strained my ears for any sound that could aid me in my search for answers and would give away the place of my capture.
Nothing. I scowled in disappointment. Seems like whoever did this, is smarter than I realized. I thought, hissing at the burn of the rope tightly digging into my wrists. "Well, at least they're efficient." I muttered, trying to undo the plethora of eccentric knots restraining my movements. What do you expect? My subconscious chided. This person obviously has a vendetta against Sherlock. Why else would they take you? At the thought of my fiancée, my mouth went dry.
Where is Sherlock? I wondered despairingly, my heart rate increasing. Was he taken too? What if he's dead? A flurry of horrible scenarios flashed through my mind.
He's Sherlock Holmes. He wouldn't be subdued so easily. Besides, he always has a plan. I rationalized, worry eating at me at the prospect of my soon to be husband suffering.
A lock turning alerted me to the fact that someone was entering my prison.
I stood stock still, willing my body to relax enough as to not appear fearful. Though in all honesty, I was petrified. Sure, I had been kidnapped a number of times in my relationship with Sherlock, but he had always been taken with me. This was my first time experiencing such a thing, alone.
The hinges of the door squeaked chillingly, sending goosebumps to rise along my exposed arms. I fought the urge to swallow, not wanting to give whoever was entering, the satisfaction. It was silent for a moment, as I held my breath, waiting for the stranger to make their next move. A chuckle emanated a foot in front of me, before the entrance to my escape was shut with a resounding click.
Light footsteps made their way towards me, until I could feel the strong presence of the being standing directly in front of me. I focused on my breathing, all the while, my mind flicking through images of possible identities of my captor. My palms grew sweaty as the tension in the room grew more palpable. I drew in a deep breath slowly, after realizing I hadn't been breathing. My action was cut off though, by a sharp blow to the cheek.
My head whirled to the side, my skull swimming from the unexpected contact. Stars danced behind my eyelids, causing tears to form in the corner of my eyes. A copper taste filled my mouth, the tangy flavor making me lurch. A hand roughly grabbed my chin, forcing my blind eyes up.
"You've become a bit of a problem." A slightly muffled voice spoke. It was a voice that sounded oddly familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it…
A tight squeeze to my face brought me out of my musings.
"Don't you go drifting off now. I need you to listen to every word I am saying." The voice crooned. "Do you understand?"
I nodded, not wanting another hit to the face. Or anywhere else for that matter.
"Good. I see that years of being with a sociopath has taught you a few things." The voice chuckled deeply, as a hand caressed my jaw. I squirmed uncomfortably, praying that Sherlock was on his way.
"Oh darling. No need to be nervous. I'm only here to send a message. Though I do regret it has to be in this manner." The voice sighed, twirling a lock of my hair. "Such beauty is not deserving of such a treatment as this."
"What do you want?" I blurted out, instantly chastising myself for the outburst. The person paused before removing their hands from my body.
"I want you to remove yourself from the detective. You have tainted his mind too much for it to be of useable function." The voice answered calmly.
Remove myself from Sherlock? I thought. The idea was almost too much to bear. For as long as I had suffered and learned to live with the complicated man, I couldn't just leave him. The notion seemed ridiculous, even more so with the reality that we were engaged and soon to be wedded.
"Don't like that idea, do you? Well, I'm sure I can persuade you, one way or another…" The person's threat drifted off, as a knock at the door interrupted his words.
"Ah, finally. I've been expecting you for a while now!" The voice shouted, making their way to the door. I heard the door open before the voice spoke again.
"Late as usual." The voice reprimanded, speaking to an unknown visitor. I couldn't hear what the other person said back, but the tone of their voice was bitter and full of antagonism. I waited a moment, trying to place the second voice, but failing to do so. Only when I heard the door click shut, did I allow myself to whimper in fear and disappointment.
"Sherlock, don't tell me now you decide to completely abandon me?" I whispered despairingly, choking back tears.
"Have you no faith in me woman?" A familiar baritone voice said. I jumped in surprise at the unexpected sound, before sagging in relief at my savior.
"Sherlock." I breathed gratefully, as recognizable fingers undid the biding covering my eyes and hands.
Beautiful orbs met my vision, the look in them, causing me to slump into his waiting arms. I fisted his coat securely, not wanting him to be just a ghost of my memories. I felt my body being lifted up, and I snuggled into the warmth of his being, his heart a rhythm of his assured existence.
"I must apologize for my late arrival dearest. I had not anticipated for the location of your captivity to be so cumbersome." Sherlock spoke remorsefully, pulling my form closer to his body. I savored his heat, the cold of the room seeping into my skin.
I lifted my head up to meet his waiting stare. I leaned up to kiss his inviting lips, glad that I still had the chance to. I pulled back to return his gaze, before speaking.
"Don't ever scare me like that again." I commanded, already knowing that eventually, he would.
"I can't promise that to you. Of course I could, but I would be lying. I don't believe you deserve that. Not anymore." He said sincerely, cupping my cheek with his hand. He pressed his lips to mine softly for a moment, before turning towards the door.
"Now, let's get you home Mrs. Holmes. I do believe a bath is in order." He rumbled, gently handling me like I was a precious artifact.
I smiled, the action reminding me that Sherlock was indeed human, and possessed a heart of gold.
Author's Note: I thought that I had let you guys wait long enough for this chapter. You might be wondering though, why didn't I reveal who the kidnapper was? Well my lovely reviewers, that is for me to know and you to find out. Although, I do love a good contest. So, I have a proposition for you guys. Whoever is the first to correctly guess the identity of the captor gets to decide what I write for the next one-shot. Alright, I hope you guys enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear from you guys. Love you all, and wish you the best of luck in your guessing!
Song; S.O.S, by Rihanna