"I heard what happened," Irene told Sherlock as she took a seat on a bench outside the hospital, pushing her gloves further onto her hands. Sherlock remained stood in front of her, his hands held behind his back as she continued to look up to him.
"I should imagine you did considering that it was one of your boss' men that caused this," Sherlock told her and she sighed loudly.
"I know," she replied. "He came back and my boss wasn't very pleased."
"Oh," Sherlock responded. "Why would he not be pleased? He managed to hurt her, did he not? Was that not the aim?"
"The aim was to kidnap her to get you to stay away from the case," Irene responded. "And the aim was not met."
"Apparently not," Sherlock told her, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck. "And I imagine you informed Mycroft of this incident?"
"Of course," she said with a smug smile on her lips. "What kind of double agent would I be if I didn't share information with both sides?"
"Not a very good one," Sherlock muttered. "So why are you here?"
"My boss wanted me to warn you," she spoke dangerously. "If you continue investigating the case then he will hurt you Sherlock...and not personally."
"Then he won't hurt me, will he?" Sherlock replied with a raised brow.
"He'll hurt you through her Sherlock," Irene warned him. "That girl in there," she motioned to the hospital.
"I'd like to see him try," Sherlock replied through gritted teeth.
"He will," she assured him. "And the chances of him succeeding are very likely. You can't protect her twenty four seven."
"Yes," Sherlock replied. "I can."
"Clearly that is incorrect," Irene said. "Where are you now? With me instead of with her...what does that tell you Sherlock?"
"It tells me that I am intrigued to know what your boss has planned next. She is perfectly safe in the hospital." Sherlock replied.
"Well it tells me that you care more about your cases then you do for your little secretary," Irene said harshly. "Why else would you be out here if the case didn't intrigue you? Considering your girlfriend has just lost your child and you would rather be out here tells me that you're not a typical boyfriend."
"Well she knows that already," Sherlock replied. "And she would understand why I'm here."
"Would she?" Irene asked. "Because many people wouldn't."
"She knows the case comes first," Sherlock said through gritted teeth.
"I think Sherlock," Irene said and circled the detective, standing behind him, her mouth going close to his ear. "That you're bored of her...that she can't offer you the exciting life which you so desire...after all, she's so weak it is unbelievable...why else would you leave her if you truly did love her? If you truly loved her you'd still be with her instead of talking with me out here, wouldn't you? What you feel for her...it's not love..."
...
Scarlett awoke early the next morning in complete disarray as she looked around the room she was sleeping in. At first she panicked, looking around, wondering where she was, but then she remembered the events of the previous night. Sighing loudly to herself, she looked to the side, searching for Sherlock. But he wasn't there. She pushed herself to sit up and ran a hand through her hair, wondering where he had gotten to. She looked onto her bedside table and noticed a note on a napkin. Picking it up she read the note quickly and then screwed the cloth up, throwing it across the room.
Gone to work on the case. Back later.
SH
...
"What the hell are you doing here?" John snapped when he saw Scarlett walk into the flat in the evening. She wore the clothes she had been taken to hospital in as she dropped her bag onto the floor and walked past John and into her bedroom.
"I discharged myself," she told him and began to search for some clothes in the wardrobe which were looser fitting. Her stomach ached slightly and her eyes were still red as she pushed one of Sherlock's shirts from its hanger and began to change into it, the material loose around her stomach.
"You shouldn't have done that," John told her, standing in the doorway and then finally moving into the room when he saw her laid on the bed, curled in a ball.
"I managed to get home fine," she told John.
"Why didn't you get Sherlock to bring you home?" John asked her and then his mouth dropped as soon as he had said it.
"He went off. Didn't he?" John checked and he sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Scarlett who in turn was just looking over to the side.
"I don't know when," Scarlett mumbled. "I woke up and he wasn't there."
"And you're angry with him," John stated and she shrugged awkwardly.
"I should have known that he would always put the case first...I was annoyed to start with...but then I realised that this is Sherlock."
"Even so," John shook his head. "He could have at least made sure you got home safely."
"He thinks I'm still in the hospital," Scarlett whispered. "Unless he checks his phone...I did text him earlier..."
"How are you feeling anyway?" John asked her.
"Numb," she replied in a mutter.
...
"I heard about your girlfriend," a voice rang out in St Bart's lab as Sherlock continued to test the bullets from the dead bodies. Sherlock continued looking into the microscope as he heard the voice.
"Did you?" Sherlock replied. "Then again, when you're the British Government I suppose you know everything."
"Don't be absurd Sherlock," Mycroft spoke. "And I am truly sorry for what happened to her. How is she?"
"As expected when one loses their child," Sherlock told his brother.
"And how are you?" Mycroft asked.
"Don't pretend to be concerned," Sherlock looked at his brother for the first time.
"You're my brother Sherlock," Mycroft replied. "I have the right to be concerned."
"Well don't exercise that right," Sherlock murmured. "And how is your spying going?"
"I presume you mean Miss Adler," Mycroft said. "And she is doing well...we would be doing even better if you left the case alone."
"So you're not in need of my help anymore?" Sherlock asked him. "Even though this is a very important case."
"I have Miss Adler on the case Sherlock," Mycroft told him. "I don't need you to help anymore."
"And you're also worried that if I figure this out before you then that would mean it would not reflect well on the government," Sherlock spoke.
"We have it figured out Sherlock," Mycroft said.
"But you have no evidence," Sherlock drawled. "Why else would you not be making an arrest?"
"Stay out of this Sherlock," Mycroft warned him. "You'll get yourself killed if you carry on."
"How dull," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You think I am scared?"
"You should be," Mycroft said. "And you may want to go back to your flat tonight instead of to the hospital. Your girlfriend discharged herself from hospital."
...
"No!" was the first word Sherlock heard in his eardrums as he entered 221B Baker Street. Sherlock took to the stairs quickly, moving into the living room with haste and freezing at what he saw. On the sofa was a man who was resting his weight on top of Scarlett, his hands gripping onto her wrists as she wormed under his weight.
"I told you not to go against me," a Russian voice snapped and Sherlock acted. Quickly, he moved and grabbed the collar of the man, pulling his hefty weight from Scarlett as the Russian stood up and threw a punch at Sherlock, hitting him across the jaw and knocking him backwards. Scarlett hastily stood up and lunged for her phone on the coffee table, but the Russian grabbed onto her arm quickly and wrapped his arms around her midriff, dragging her backwards whilst Sherlock's vision came back to him. As Scarlett continued to struggle she felt something prick her skin. The Russian dropped her to the floor and her limbs seemed to go dead as she couldn't move any further and she remained next to John's unconscious body.
"Scarlett," Sherlock's voice spoke, his deep sound echoing in her ears.
She couldn't do anything but droop to the floor, looking up at Sherlock as the Russian punched him again on the cheekbone and Sherlock ducked another punch, only to stand up straight again and be hit in the stomach. He doubled over before the Russian stuck the needle through his arm and into his vein. Sherlock too fell to the floor.
"What was that?" Sherlock panicked as the Russian grabbed him under the arms and began to drag him from the room.
"Don't worry," the Russian said. "My boss will be extremely happy to see you."
...
Uh Oh. Sherlock is in a bit of trouble! Anyhow, thank you to eruptingearth and CaptainCrash for their reviews and to everyone else who has reviewed all my other chapters! More on the way soon so please do review!