Note: okay so this one I’ll really need to edit it ASAP cause it can get tricky to follow bcause of the flash back. I first tought I’d post it 2morrow but it happened and I needed to get “rid” of this one to start another one, like I’ve got so much ideas here and uggggggh that episode! So it sort of is supposed to happen right after hlv and right before t6t and whatevver, the flashbacks will be between things like this: “”“/// "”“ until I can edit it. Btw if any of you need to screamor vent or cry or whatevver about this episode just tell me, I’m in search of a crying buddy right now TT_TT
I looked outside as the street’s lights flashed across the window of our cab. The city of London seemed so calm and peaceful, the complete opposite of how I felt, still under the stress and the emotions of today.
“Did you miss me?“ His face was flashing across the gps’ screen of the car.
I shivered. Let’s hope it wasn’t really him… And even if it was the case, there was an insidious whisper in the back of my mind telling me I should be glad Moriarty was back. After all, if he hadn’t reappeared, I’d have lost him forever…
I turned my gaze to the inside of the cab and more precisely, to the man sitting beside me.
The Great William Sherlock Scott Holmes, only consulting detective on Earth, forensic “expert” and amateur scientist in his free time. His gaze locked on the back of our driver’s seat, lost somewhere deep in his mind palace. A palace that nearly became his tomb earlier today.
I felt guilt rising in my stomach. I should have known better.
Of course he would use again, of course he’d overdose before he’d leave the country to his death. He was far from the machine everyone thought he was. Very far.
If anyone had taken the time to discover who he was, deep under the arrogant know-it-all heartless bastard facade he gave himself, they would have discovered man struggling with his emotions, in need of compassion, comprehension and love from the world around him, in a certain way, just like a child.
And like any child who doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions, he searched for an escape.
The car reached a stop in front of a small jet. There they were. He was talking with John as we stopped and gave a look to our black car while his friend turned around. The doctor had the same look on his face that he had at the funeral, more than 3 years ago. Sad, broken, the one of a man who just buried his best friend. But he wasn’t crying. Not John and not now.
And Sherlock… his eyes were red, sad, broken. When they met with mine, they looked as they’d just seen his world torn apart.
He looked at me, still deep in his thought. He was struggling to find how it was even possible. How could Moriarty have survived. According to him, his archnemesis shot a bullet directly in his head, through his mouth. There was no way it didn’t killed him. Yet no body was ever recovered from that rooftop, nor from anywhere around for that matter. That damn rooftop…
I held his lifeless body in my arm, rocking myself back and forth, crying and screaming in pain as they tried to separate us. John was in shock beside us, unable to stand by himself as Bart’s personnel supported him. Sherlock blue-gray gaze fixed on the sky, seeing things no living would ever see, his blood staining my clothes. He was gone now and nothing would change that.
I shook my head. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I stay focussed for once? I turned back to the window, trying to change my mind. Turned out he escaped death on that rooftop after all, and even better, he did it again today.
Silence fell as I reached them in front of the plane. John glanced at me, then back to Sherlock. He cleared his throat.
"I think I’ll just leave the two of you alone…” he offered.
And without actually giving any of us the time to object, he headed to Mary, leaving his friend and I in an awkward silence.
“Six months…” I began, shaking slightly. “Six month ‘cause you shot a dangerous man!” I was yelling, unable to contain my rage anymore.
“You should have let me come Holmes! I could’ve-”
“Don’t be stupid Y/N, your presence would have changed nothing! You would have lost your job and even been dragged to court for that.” He interrupted me.
I closed my eyes, sighing. The trip back home seemed way longer than the one to the airport. As if some higher being was toying with me. If it was the case, should I thank them for saving Sherlock or blame them for what happened?
I opened my eyes again and glanced at the detective. For a man who escaped death he seemed far too calm. The more I thought about it, the more it looked like the calm before a storm to me. Our gaze met and I wondered if he was thinking about what happened back there.
"Maybe if I could talk to your brother he’d accept to transfer me with-” I suggested.
“No! Y/N don’t put yourself in danger for me ” he adamantly refused.
“But Sherlock, I- it-”
“Please…” he pleaded softly, taking my hands in his. “I’d rather have you far from me but safe than in danger with me.”
Mycroft came to us slowly, almost as if to give us more time.
“Times up Sherlock. The plane as to go, and so do you.”
"Y/N.” Sherlock said, gently placing his hand on my shoulder. “We’re there.”
I glanced outside. He was right, we were in front of 221B and the cab had stopped. I paid the cabbie as Holmes was getting out, glancing at his flat for a moment from the sidewalk.
I looked at him and then turned to the street, ready to cross it in diagonal to my own flat. As I was about to do so, a hand grabbed gently my shoulder.
“Y/N…” tried the detective, for once unsure of what to say. “Would you… would you like to come in for a cuppa?”
I sighed. “It’s late Sherlock I should just go home…”
I was going to turn around again but he tightened his grip a bit.
“I want to talk with you.” He insisted, pleading with his eyes.
The younger brother released my hands and looked at me one last time, eyes full of sorrow, not ready yet to go, but he had to. He was about to turn around to his brother when I almost threw myself towards him and held him tightly in my arms, head hidden in his chest as tears cascaded down my cheeks.
"Sherlock…” I sobbed.
If at first surprised, the detective quickly understood what was going on and wrapped his arms around my body and now we were both clinging onto one another in a desperate embrace, as if our lives depended on one another. I lifted my head slightly, locking my eyes with his blue-gray ones for a brief second, then up on my toes, I kissed him briefly and gently.
“I love you, Holmes…”
“We can do it here, can we?” I told him.
He looked at me in for a few seconds in a perfect silence, then leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips, as if I was something fragile he feared to break.
Surprised, I didn’t move an inch, unsure of what exactly was happening. As the realization slowly made its way to my mind, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
He smiled, lovingly pressing his forehead against mine, now embracing me.
“I thought I would never see you again…” he whispered sadly. “Y/N… stay with me… just for one night. I need to hold you, to tell myself it isn’t simply a meandering from my mind, that it’s real and I’m not on that plane anymore.”
I smiled. “Alright, but only because I’m too lazy to cross that street.”
He chuckled and taking my hand, led me to his flat, where we simply collapsed onto his bed, holding each other on a tight embrace.
A phone buzzed on his bedside, waking me up as the sun shone behind the closed curtain.
“Sherlock…” I mumbled, still sleepy.
“It’s Mycroft, he can wait a bit more.” Simply answered the detective, playing with my hair as I laid my head on his chest.
His mobile buzzed several more time as we just laid lazily on the bed, enjoying this moment of peace.
Then it stopped as my phone suddenly rang. Reaching for it on the ground, I answered.
“Good morning Y/N, could you and Sherlock dress up and come to ISIS’ building quickly? The reunion with the head of the national security is in thirty minutes and you’re both supposed to be present.” Mycroft said without waiting for me to even speak.
“Alright, we’ll be there in a few.” I told him, not even surprised by the fact he knew I was with his brother, and then hung up. “We’ve got to be at ISIS in thirty minutes, the-”
“Head of national security wants to have a talk with us. I heard…”
I smiled and kissed him softly.
“Then it’s time to wake up mister Holmes.”
“As you wish miss Y/L/N…” smiled the man.
He gave me a look as we got up, eyes glistening with a joy and an emotion I’d never really thought I’d see in his eyes: love. He came behind me and kissed my cheek gently.
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Word Count: 982
A/N: This turned into a complete fluff fest. Wasn’t my intention but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
I tried not to make it OOC and, personally, I think I did satisfactory work.
P.S., I actually got this from a prompt from somewhere and I forgot to write down exactly where, so I’ll be aggressively searching until I find it.
There was a leisurely air surrounding the flat of 221B, the kind of relaxing atmosphere I’d tried to create on my own many times only to have something happen, or to become uncomfortable. This moment, though, is unique. Moments like this are to be treasured, in silence and with gratitude, but something keeps pulling at my heart and I fear it does not intend to leave me be unless action is taken.
I take my head off of Sherlock’s chest and lean back until my hand rests on the armrest so that I am now stretched across the length of the couch and his lap. I look up at him, at his closed eyes and his relaxed form leaning back into the couch while he distances himself from reality. That was another thing that made this time worthwhile- Sherlock seldom performs acts of affection like this, despite our extensive relationship. I smile at him, softly and affectionately, because despite his reluctance to physical displays of his feelings, I find it that I don’t mind as much as I thought I would have.
Again, there’s that little tug at the edge of my mind, a question begging to be spoken and I want to give in, because it’s just a question and it wouldn’t hurt to ask- but it’s a stupid question nonetheless, hence my doubts. Plus, I’d hate to disturb him whilst he is in such a zoned-out state.
I lie back and think about it before quickly poking his cheek. It was an action that, as I learned much to his disfavor, could distract him from his mind palace long enough to hold a short conversation with him, at minimum. Sherlock twitches slightly, his face scrunching up just a bit before he relaxes again. The small action is enough to let me know that he doesn’t want to be bothered, but I persist, poking his face again and again, hardly enough for him to feel it yet it pesters him.
I do it again only for him to swat my hand away. “Hmm?” He asks, clearly uninterested but he understands his momentary attention will be enough for me to leave him be afterward.
I fold my hands together and rest them on my stomach, glancing at his closed eyes before looking up at the ceiling. “Sherlock…” I pause, unsure how to go about asking the question without getting one of his snappy remarks (though I’m fairly certain that the subject of the question itself is enough for one of them).
“Yes, (Y/N)?” I look back at him to see him watching me with his beautiful heterochromatic eyes, his face blank, waiting for me to speak.
“Ah- uhm, do you believe… in soulmates?”
He watches me, his gaze lingering on mine. It wasn’t criticizing but it didn’t make me feel any more comfortable about asking the question. “No, I don’t…” With that, he closes his eyes and leans his head back again, and I suspect us finished with the little conversation. Then, he catches me off guard, “Do you?”
I lift my head up, taken aback. Then I smile and tilt my head when he opens his eyes again, and I hum, “I believe you’re my soulmate.” I lift my finger and tap his cheek, though not to pester him as before.
Sherlock grabs my hand before I can take it away and holds it, rubbing the back of it gently. He rests our hands on my chest, above my heart. He lowers his head and stares at me, just stares at me for a few seconds, and I can read it in his eyes. The love. The endearment. Even the slight humor. It’s warm, and his face is soft.
He’s such a different man than the Sherlock Holmes that John had introduced to me years ago, and to think that I was partially responsible for that change.
“I… I believe that some people are just meant to be in your life, and vice versa.” I whisper and smile, squeezing his hand. “It may sound silly or like a childish fantasy to such a logic-based mind, but I believe certain people are meant to fall in love and be together, forever.” I press his hand to my chest so he can feel my heartbeat. “And I believe that we were meant to fall in love, to change each other for the better. I never expected you to believe that, but if you don’t then what do you believe?”
Sherlock tilts his head and leans over me so his face is closer to mine. “I believe that fate has nothing on us. I believe that I love you and that it isn’t simply because it is what I am supposed to do, but because it’s what I can and what I want to do.” He leans down further and kisses me, so slowly and gently. So affectionately, and I return in kind. He pulls away, “I never expected myself capable of loving another human as passionately and as purely as I love you, and I don’t believe it is because we are soulmates that I do.”
I look at him, with his beautiful eyes that seem to hold so much emotion and the small smile on his lips. I rise up and sit in his lap like before, with my legs stretched over his lap and my head resting on his chest. I hold our hands up to my chest and he wraps his free hand around me, resting his cheek on top of my head.
“Who knew you could be so romantic?” I break into a huge smile with a small laugh and bring my other hand up to our holding ones, holding his with now both of mine and I close my eyes. “I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I love you so much.”
He kisses my forehead and whispers against it, “I love you so much more.”
So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend. And certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing.
“Mmm,” John gives a soft murmur of satisfaction and stretches his socked feet out toward the fire for toasting. He shoots me a glance over his (third) glass of mulled wine, then smiles down into his drink when he sees me looking at him. Is it a significant sort of smile, or is that only my fancy? No, don’t let’s get into all that again or I’ll lose my nerve. I open my mouth to make my offer, but John interrupts me, “I’m glad we decided not to travel for Christmas this year.”
“Yeah, I mean it was lovely of your parents to invite us, but…” John trails off and looks around the room, “Well the flat looks nice. This is you, isn’t it?” He gestures toward the twinkling tree in the corner with his elbow. “I didn’t know you went in for this sort of thing.”
I shrug, “It’s only fairy lights and paper snowflakes, John. Hardly worth writing home about.”
John smiles, “Yeah, but you made the snowflakes yourself.”
“What sort of person would buy paper snowflakes?” John laughs, and I grin back, “It’s homely, isn’t it? I thought you might.” Shrug again, “I thought you’d like something. Normal.”
“Ahhh,” he says softly. “Something normal. Hmm.” John sips from his wine glass, “Maybe for the sake of law and order I ought to stop trying for normal. It doesn’t seem to be doing anyone any good, does it?”
My stomach twists. I fidget with the outer seam of my pyjama trousers and look at the tree, “You don’t like it.”
“Oh no, Sherlock. That isn’t what I meant at all,” John’s voice is so soft with drink and concern that I look away from the tree to meet his eye. “It’s lovely.” He leans forward, “You’re not the problem, really you’re not.”
“The problem?” John does not answer, only leans back in his chair with another little sigh and sets his nearly empty glass on the side table. My moment may have passed. Has probably passed. Then again it’s the sort of thing that only exists in the imagination. Dither briefly, then stand and stretch. I make for my music stand near the window and shuffle the sheet music about noisily. “John?”
John looks up dreamily, “Mmm?”
I lift my instrument, “Any requests?”
John cocks his head, “Do you know I’ll Be Home For Christmas?”
“Of course,” I turn to the window, raise my bow and begin to play. Glance at John’s reflection in the window, and he’s watching me intently with something so like pleased cunning flickering on his face that I nearly miss a note. Shut my eyes. Focus on my fingers. I play it through twice quite slowly and sigh with the last notes as they fade from the air, my eyes still shut. “Anything else?” I lower my violin and turn toward John’s chair to find John himself standing just behind me.
A/N- part 2! this seems very long to me im sorry haha. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FINAL PROBLEM!!!! Hope you enjoy! please feel free to send in some requests!
Mycroft’s screen flickered between the film and home videos. You watched from afar as he put out his cigarette and watched the screen intently. The words “I’m back” came onto the screen before the film burnt out. You watched him slowly make his way towards the door and try and open it. He shook it to see if it would open but you had jammed it.
“Mycroft” you whispered to get his attention before running across the hall above him to reach Sherlock behind the curtain. You had eventually given in and told Sherlock about your visit with Eurus after everything that had happen with John. He then decided it would be a great idea to mess with Mycroft a little.
“I feel bad Sherlock” you whispered, he looked down and smiled. You were always the caring type and things like this just weren’t you. Whilst Sherlock’s plan went ahead you thought about Eurus and what she had said. She had wanted to meet you before her plan? What was she on about? Suddenly you got a nudge from Sherlock meaning it was time to confront Mycroft.
“Experiment complete. Conclusion, I have a sister.” He muttered with slight anger in his voice.
“This was you?” Mycroft responded. “All of this was you?!”
“Hey bro!” Sherlock scoffed back before taking my hand and pulling me down the stairs.
“Why would you do this? This pantomime! Why?”
“New information, she’s out” John jumped in.
“So not only did you drag Y/N into that place that clearly isn’t safe, you let Eurus get out! Before you say it, it’s possible, she was John’s therapist.”
“And pretended to be Faith, which was odd because I met her after I met Faith which means she has been able to get out for a while” You exclaimed. John then took over once again “Yes. She shot me during a session!” The boys bickered between themselves for a while before you decided it was time to leave.
“Your not staying?” Mycroft asked as you dragged the boys out of the house.
“Well we’re not staying here Eurus is coming and SOMEONE disabled all your security…” you said looking at Sherlock on the word ‘someone’. He innocently smiled at his brother and told him to sleep well.
The next day you, Sherlock and John were sitting together, the boys on their arm chairs and you on the arm of Sherlock’s chair. Mycroft had decided to come and talk to you about it but unfortunately for him was not going by the rules. You stared at him as if waiting for him to admit defeat. But as always, he was being stubborn.
“Oh Mycroft just sit in the chair!” you ordered. Just then Mrs Hudson came up and lent against the doorway. “You have to sit in the chair. They won’t talk to you unless you sit in the chair. It’s the rules!” she told Mycroft very seriously. You heard him respond back ‘I’m not a client’. You were about to roll your eyes until Sherlock sternly said “Then get out” which caused you and Mrs Hudson to smirk before you got up and went down stairs with Mrs Hudson to leave the boys to what they were doing.
You decided to go out for a bit and made it to the end of the street before you heard the loud bang. You stood frozen at the end of the street before turning round and running back towards the shared flat as fast as you could.
Unlike the boys, you had a way into the building considering you worked for Mycroft. He gave you a pass and you got into the building with no issue waiting for Mycroft, Sherlock and John to show up. Eventually they did, causing a lot of drama as normal.
You met Sherlock by Eurus’ prison in order to let him in and let him out. It seemed simple enough. You had to literally let him in… Then back out again… Everything was going to plan. That was until you heard Eurus screaming. You opened the door in a hurry and the guards rushed to help Eurus. You rushed to see Sherlock on the ground and then suddenly, you were out cold.
You woke up in an all grey room, along side Sherlock, John, Mycroft and a man you hadn’t met yet. They all seemed to be talking to Eurus on the screen. Talking about tasks to do. You slowly got up and made your way over to stand next to John.
“Ah! Y/N! Your up! Good! I changed my mind… Y/N must do it” Eurus shouted over the intercom. You were confused… You looked at John and he just sighed. You looked back at Sherlock and saw the gun in his hand.
“Y/N, just to fill you in Sweetie. You have to shoot the governor in order to save his wife” Eurus stated with no emotion in her voice. You looked at Sherlock who gave you the gun and then the governor who just kept muttering ‘you have too’.
“I can’t! I can’t do it!” you repeated with tears coming down your cheeks.
“Y/N it’s alright” Sherlock stated. Just then the Governor grabbed the gun from your hand. Everyone tried to stop him put he just said “remember me” before shooting himself. You screamed and Sherlock grabbed hold of you to comfort you. This was something you never wanted and never had seen before in your life. John came over to you and hugged you whilst Sherlocked walked towards the glass to talk to Eurus.
“Interesting” she stated before shooting his wife as well. “Please… go through!”
The next room was a case. You helped as much as you could to solve it and in the end it was simple. But 3 more lives had been taken. By this point you wanted to break down. Why was she doing this?
In the next room, was a coffin. You wasn’t really focused on anything and thought it would be best for Sherlock to solve this one so you kept out of the way, thinking about what had happened… Until you heard your name.
“Y/N” John muttered, just for Sherlock to repeat your name.
“She’ll stay with you Sherlock… If you can get her to say the three words, but she has to mean it. In fact, i’m not even going to tell you what the three words are. Only Sherlock will know… You have 2 Minutes,” Eurus spoke. You walked over and stood in front of Sherlock.
“Sherlock what is she on about?”
“Y/N how do you feel about me?”
“What? Your my friend Sherlock…”
“But do you want more? How do you feel about me?”
“One minute Sherlockkkk” Eurus sung
“Come on Y/N i need you to say it… Please just say it…”
“FINE SHERLOCK I LOVE YOU!” You cried before covering your mouth after realising what you had said, your eyes started to prickle with tears again until you let one slip down your face. You folded your arms after wiping away the stray tear and walking through the door that had opened in front of you.
“Oh Sherlock do pull yourself together… The next one isn’t as easy” Eurus chuckled.
As you walked into the next room something hit you over the head causing you to fall to the ground.
What seemed like a few moments later was actually a few hours later and you awoke in a well with John.
“John where are we what are wee doing here where is Sherlock whats-” you babbled in one long breath
“Y/N calm down… He’ll get us out of here” Just as John spoke we heard Sherlock speak.
“Sherlock!” you shouted happy to hear his voice hoping not to be stuck here for long.
“Sherlock… we’re in a well” John calmly stated.
Suddenly water started to fill up the well. You shot a look to John and you both started to try and pull away from the chain around your ankle. Whilst doing this you felt something and picked it up, and when you pulled it from under the water you screamed and dropped it again.
“John there are bones in here!” you blerted. John bent down and picked one up.
“Sherlock… The bones we found… Mycrofts been lying to you… There not dogs bones…”
You looked at John knowing exactly what it was. All you could think about was finding a way out of the well to help Sherlock. Redbeard wasn’t a dog… He was Sherlocks best friend…
Sherlock had solved everything and you and John had been pulled out of the well. Sherlock came straight over to the pair of you and patted John on the back asking if he was alright. You looked down as you remembered everything that had happened.
“Y/N I.. I love you” Sherlock remarked before pulling you in for a kiss. You were shocked at first but melted into it after a while, smiling as you pulled a way. John stood there astonished, then smirked at you both.
Back at 221b Baker Street, you had started cleaning up the flat until everything was back to normal. John had moved back into the room upstairs and you shared with your new boyfriend. Mrs Hudson had been extremely happy when you had told her about you and Sherlock.
John Sherlock and yourself had got back into the swing of things and started to solve cases again and it was all you could ever ask for… Mary had left the three of you a message and you watched it with the others.
“When all else fails, there are two men sitting, arguing in a scruffy flat, with Y/N taking care of them, like they’ve always been there, and they always will. The best and wisest people I have ever known. My Baker Street guys. Sherlock Holmes, Y/N L/N and Doctor John Watson.”