You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Hounds of Baskerville: The End

Without saying a word, all three of you left Dr. Stapleton behind as you rushed to make it out of the building and to Dewer's Hollow. Sherlock drove quicker than he should have, out through the gates, pulling onto rocky terrain in order to make it there faster. When you became as close as the Jeep would allow, you all jumped out, running into the dark. Sherlock tossed you a torch and you barely caught with your wrapped hands as you flicked it on, careful where you were stepping. The last thing you needed was to fall again and actually break a bone this time.

Before long, you made it to the Hallow where you saw Henry with a pistol aimed in his mouth.

"Henry, no!" You screamed, urging your sore body to run down the slope towards Henry, Sherlock and John behind. Henry jumped, scrambling to his feet as he pointed the gun above the three of yours heads. You flinched, looking at the gun in his hands.

"Get back. Get – get away from me!" Henry yelled, aiming his gun towards you, terror and grief coating his voice. You froze, staring wide eyed at Henry. All you could focus on was his gun, you reached a hand towards your chest. You grazed over the spot where your healed wound was, fear running through you.

"Easy, Henry. Easy. Just relax." John reached out a hand towards him in attempts to try and calm him down. It wasn't working.

"I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!" He yelled, his hands shaking. He didn't drop his aim that was pointed straight at your chest.

"Just put the gun down. It's okay." John told him as Sherlock reached a hand out now. You didn't dare move a step closer in fear Henry would take a shot at you, you wouldn't put it past him in his state of anguish.

"No, no, I know what I am!" He yelled, his voice becoming hoarse as tears dripped down his cheeks. You all kept your torches aimed at him, watching his moves carefully. The only way out of this was to talk him down.

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry. It's all been explained to you, hasn't it – explained very carefully." Sherlock said in an almost soothing voice.

"What?" Henry demanded of him, not getting what he was talking about. You didn't dare look over your shoulder at Sherlock, but listened as he continued.

"Someone needed to keep you quiet; needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you'd both clung on to, because you had started to remember. Remember now, Henry. You've got to remember what happened here when you were a little boy." Sherlock took small steps towards Henry and he was now directly to your right. You stood stock still, staring at Henry's gun, flashbacks hitting you in increments.

Henry's gun dropped a bit, but as Sherlock took another step ahead of you he raised it again. You shook your head, telling the memories to go away, but they wouldn't. All you could picture was Henry pulling the trigger and Moriarty's cold laugh as you hit the ground. You shook your head, trying to refocus on Henry. Moriarty wasn't here, he couldn't hurt you, you told yourself. It's just PTSD... like the doctors said. That's it. Only PTSD.

"I thought it had got my dad – the hound. I thought... Oh Je... oh Jesus, I don't – I don't know anymore!" Henry stumbled back in tears, shoving the gun back into his mouth.

"No, Henry! Henry, for God's sake!" John yelled. Sherlock put a protective hand in front of you, reaching towards Henry again. You couldn't even think anymore, you weren't present in the moment as you watched wide eyed at the gun clutched in Henry's hands a pain aching in your side. You reached your free hand towards where you had gotten shot in the past, ghost pain sinking into your skin.

"Henry, remember. 'Liberty In.' Two words; two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago. You'd started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn't an animal, was it, Henry?" Henry began to sit up, the gun dropping in his hands as he turned to Sherlock with big eyes. "Not a monster. A man. You couldn't cope. You were just a child, so you rationalized it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no-one would believe a word that you said." Henry stared ahead, his eyes unfocused as he seemed to be remembering things that had been long forgotten. You stumbled backwards, your head turning in between reality and past memories. You clutched onto your side, doubling over in pain. Your brain went into a full flashback.