So sorry this is so short and took so long! My life is a mess at the moment, so things will be slow for a while. My sincerest apologies.
x Ashley
The fear in Hannah's heart was immense. Jacob gripped her by her hair and threw her to the floor of the bathroom, checking his phone for last number dialed. She felt as though a cinder block rested on her chest. His eyes were pure fury. She kicked at his leg, hitting him in the shin. She was able to get some footing before he could regain his composure. Her feet slipped against the smooth surface of the floor causing her to stumble into the hallway. She raced to the front room, grabbing the large coat off the hanger and yanking open the door.
"You fucking bitch!" She found an elevator in front of her, knowing that it would be faster to take the stairs she diverted to the right. They were about ten stories up, her bare feet and gasping breath the only sound on the stairwell as she wrapped the coat around her. She heard the door to the stairwell open and Jacob's heavy pants. A gunshot went off. "I didn't want to do this Hannah. I really fucking didn't." She screamed as another gunshot went off, hitting the wall in front of her face. "That was your warning." She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. "Come back upstairs and I won't shoot again."
It was then that she noticed the heaviness in the coat pocket. She slipped her fingers inside as subtlety as possible. She felt the cold metal of a handgun. She wondered if she could pull it out fast enough and even then be able to shoot him. He ran his fingers through his hair, getting it out of his face. "Come back upstairs." His voice was more calm, but she could still feel the threat behind it.
She bit her bottom lip, knowing that she couldn't make it. She had tried, but failed. She lifted her foot to climb back up to him when a gunshot rang out. She saw Jacob duck down and her eyes flew to the staircase below her. Lestrade stood, gun raised, looking at her. "Come on." She took to Lestrade's side. "Go on down, a squad car is waiting." He continued past her and up the stairs. "Put your hands up Moran!"
She didn't hesitate to run down the stairs and out into the lobby, when she reached outside she felt the chill of the night air. She hugged the coat tightly to her body. She spotted Donovan who stood up against the side of the car as Hannah approached. "You don't have shoes!" Hannah nodded, teeth clattering.
"I didn't have time to grab them while running from someone who attempted to kill me." Donovan grabbed a blanket from the back of the squad car and offered it to Hannah who gladly sat and wrapped it around her legs. It wasn't long before more men, in protective gear, entered the hotel and pursued Sebastian along with Lestrade. It seemed to happen in minutes, Lestrade being pulled out of the building by two men, blood seeping out of his shoulder.
Ambulances arrived and Hannah was quickly put into the back of one, protocol they said. A woman with a tight bun and stony face began asking her questions, but Hannah's mind was spinning. She wanted Sherlock, she missed him, and she wanted him at that very moment. The panic in his voice was so unsettling; she needed to see him and the only comfort she found was in the fact that if Lestrade found her, then Sherlock was on his way. With that thought she let her head fall against the gurney and she stared at the ceiling of the ambulance. Sherlock is on his way.
…
Sherlock parked the car. The whole way over Sherlock and John sat in a silence not foreign to either. Sherlock often contemplated things while John went about his day, sometimes Sherlock wouldn't move for hours. Although that may be true, John still couldn't shake the feeling of panic held in Sherlock's movements. He hadn't seen Sherlock this shaken up since The Hounds of Baskerville case came upon them. A sweat had broken out on his forehead and his fingers had gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were pure white.
John walked quickly to keep up with Sherlock's long strides. The pair did not say a word as they entered the hospital. Sherlock walked past the front counter and John stared behind him as he reached the elevator, pressing the up arrow in rapid succession. John spoke to the nurse at the counter. "Hannah Winter's room please?" She typed a few things into her computer and rattled off the number '203'. John joined Sherlock as he entered the elevator, the short companion pressing the number two button and then clasping his hands together in front of him.
"Are you-"
"I'm fine." Sherlock's voice was tense and obviously lying. The door opened to level two and Sherlock quickly walked to 203.
Hannah sat in the bed, staring at the seat occupied next to her. "Mycroft?" The pair looked to him.
"Sherlock!" Hannah swung her legs over the bed and ran to the taller man, wrapping her arms around his middle. His hands went to the back of her head and across her shoulders, but he gripped her loosely. Hannah and his brother seemed to be deep in conversation. When Hannah realized he wasn't hugging her back, she pulled away, looking from his face to Mycroft's.
Mycroft Holmes stood from his chair, "We will be in touch Ms. Winters." As Mycroft left the room, Hannah placed her fingers on Sherlock's cheek, turning his head from his calculating stare at the space Mycroft had inhabited. His eyes softened when they met hers.
"Are you alright?" She asked him. He shook his head and pressed his lips to hers, hands cradling her head as he kissed her, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. She parted their lips, "They didn't catch him."
"I know." He pressed his lips against her forehead and hugged her to his chest. Hannah pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him back slightly as John entered the room. Sherlock felt a flush of embarrassment and was grateful for Hannah ending the embrace before John could really see it. They had never been in front of other people displaying affection. The whole relationship had occurred behind the closed doors of the place they both called home.
"Oh thank God." John wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. Sherlock felt a pang of jealousy run through him, but quickly discarded the feeling.
"John." Hannah looked at Sherlock with an amused smile. "I can barely breathe." John smiled and released her.
"I'm just glad you are alright." She nodded and looked back to Sherlock. A nurse came in with a tray which held a cup of steaming water, a tea bag, sugar and cream along with a sandwich. Hannah thanked the woman and sat down on the bed, Sherlock and John moving to sit by her, they sat in silence for a few moments while Hannah ate.
"What do we do now?" She asked. She felt John look at her and shift to look at Sherlock. Her eyes slid up to the dark haired man who was staring blankly at the white hospital blanket. In truth she knew what was going to happen. She knew Sherlock would move his things back into Baker Street. Her apartment had long been sold to an older woman who owned a few too many cats and Hannah had grown comfortable in the country. She knew things wouldn't be the same, not after revealing his death had actually been faked. There were so many loose ends that still needed mending.
He was still wanted for the kidnapping of two children. The loose ends of Moriarty's reign had slowly been tied up by Sherlock, but she knew there was work still to do. He couldn't exactly pretend to be dead again now that he had shown up here. She knew this peaceful moment, the quietness of this moment, this tiny room with it's one occupied bed, the two seats on either side of her bed which were occupied by two people she never thought she would still be talking to this time last year, this moment felt like the calm before the storm. Because while Jacob or Sebastian or whatever he called himself was still on the loose, they have to defend Sherlock's innocence. And innocence marred by the fact a group of policemen were entering the hospital to arrest him at this moment.
Sherlock knew this. Hannah knew this. John knew this. It wasn't discussed, but assumed. And from the commotion in the hallway they knew it would be soon.
"Sherlock..." Hannah could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She has missed him for far too long and he's about to be taken from her again. His hands rested on his thighs, she slipped her fingers into his and brought his attention away from the bedding. "Please tell me you have figured it out. You won't go to jail. Please tell me that." He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Donovan and two men entering the room. John gripped Hannah's other hand as Sherlock stood from the bed. "No. Donovan." The woman looked at Hannah, watching as Hannah tried to get up from the bed.
"Miss Winters if you try and intervene then you will also be arrested, is that clear?" Hannah glared at her and went to speak again,
"Sit down." She looked over at Sherlock. His tone sent a shock of upset through her. She almost cried at the cruel tone of his words. She knew it was unintentional, but she wanted to see what was going through his head. She sunk back down onto the bed and watched as the two large men went to grab Sherlock.
"Sherlock Holmes you are under arrest for the kidnapping of-" Hannah stared at Sherlock, waiting for him to give her a look or sign that he could get himself out of this. Anything would have been comforting, but he simply held his wrists out and let himself get handcuffed and escorted from the room, his eyes met hers once more before he disappeared completely.
Hannah let out an involuntary whimper and John wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. She grasped his forearms, staring at the closed door still. She felt a bubbling anger. Even after he's dead Moriarty is fucking with her life. She let go of John and stood from the bed. She looked over at the empty seat where Sherlock was a few minutes before and grabbed the coat from the back of it. "Hannah?" She wrapped it around herself tightly, slipping a pair of hospital socks on her feet. "Are you leaving dressed like that?"
"We don't have much of a choice." She bit her bottom lip. "We have to get him out of there, and I want him out as soon as possible." She wrenched open the door to the room and peered into the hallway. "He saved me, I save him." She walked out into the hallway and looked for an exit John following close behind.
"How do you plan to do that?" She shrugged.
"I took a few criminal law classes," She paused. "And I knew Jim Moriarty, I knew him very well." They paused outside the door of the side exit they found. "Are you in?" John laughed, sticking his hands into his pockets and smiled at her.
"Of course."