Memories [Part 1]
Pairing: Sherlock x Reader (eventually)
AN: This is my first Sherlock post and is the first series I’ve started, so I hope you enjoy. Requests are gladly welcome
When you found out Mycroft was bringing you to 221b Baker Street, you were a little confused. Until that point, the eldest Holmes brother had tried to keep you securely locked up in high tech prisons. Of course, you had made it your mission to break out of every single one of them, but you hadn’t expected him to suddenly make it so easy.
“You want me to babysit her?” Sherlock questioned as he scoffed. Of course, he thought his time was far too precious to be spent on someone as insignificant as you, but that was what you were relying on.
“She has a treasure trove of government secrets committed to memory, Sherlock. She’s managed to break out of every prison we’ve locked her in, and I’m far too busy to keep an eye on her myself.” Mycroft sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You had clearly been causing him a lot of stress, which had clearly been affecting his sleep.
“And why would I help you?” Sherlock asked. It was common knowledge that the Holmes brothers were not friends, so Sherlock asked a rather valid question.
“I’ll delete the video,” Mycroft stated, and a serious atmosphere brushed over the room. Sherlock looked up at his brother, contemplating the offer.
“Not a single copy left?” Sherlock asked and Mycroft nodded. It made you wonder what the video was, but you didn’t dare to ask and scare Sherlock into denying his brother’s request. If you could get away from Sherlock Holmes, you would be able to get away from Mycroft and the British government entirely.
“Fine.” Sherlock agreed and a victorious smirk crept onto your face.
“Good. I’ve got a lot of pressing business to tend to. Someone will be by with Y/N’s things shortly.” Mycroft stated before leaving Baker Street.
You and Sherlock sat in silence for almost an hour. Sherlock didn’t remove his eyes from you. Of course, you knew exactly what he was doing. He was making his little deductions, under the impression that they would somehow help him keep you in his custody. What he didn’t know was that you were doing the exact same thing. Well, almost the same thing. You weren’t intelligent in the same way as Sherlock Holmes.
You had a photographic and Eidetic memory. The two were commonly viewed as the same thing but were actually rather different. Having an eidetic memory meant you could view your memories like they were photos and relive them in perfect detail. Having a photographic memory meant you could perfectly recall everything you had ever heard, seen, tasted, touched or smelled. And you had been building up your file on Sherlock Holmes since the moment you had stepped into his flat.
“You won’t be able to get away, you know.” He eventually informed you with 100% confidence in his words.
“You sound awfully sure of yourself, Mr Holmes.” You chuckled. You knew how intelligent Sherlock Holmes was, but you also knew he had never had to deal with you before.
“Well, I don’t mean that you won’t be able to escape. In fact, you could probably get away from me right now if you wished. I just mean that you won’t be able to get away forever. That’s clear.” He told you and you furrowed your brows. He clearly had a more in-depth assessment of your situation than you had first thought.
“And what makes you think that?” You asked, curious as to what his answer would be.
“Simple. You’ve managed to escape numerous times already. From what I have deduced, you’re completely capable of going into hiding and disappearing forever. For some reason, you can’t, or you won’t. You have to stick around for something, which is why my brother keeps recapturing you,” Sherlock analysed you without fault. However, you were a little disappointed. From what you had heard about the sociopathic detective, he was usually capable of far more detailed deductions.
“And what do you think it is keeping me from disappearing?” You asked though you were certain he didn’t know.
Instead of answering you, Sherlock clenched his jaw and stood up. He picked up his violin and started playing, leaving the question to hang in the air. It was clear that the detective found it difficult to admit when he didn’t know the answer.
Despite the lack of conversation, you found your afternoon at Baker Street quite pleasant. Sherlock ignored you completely and continued to play his violin for the afternoon. An hour after our little conversation, Mrs Hudson came up to the flat and introduced herself to you. She seemed rather excited to have another woman around, stating that Sherlock and John could do with the influence of a ‘polite young lady’ such as you. Sherlock failed to mention why you would be staying with him. He thought it best that as few people as possible knew about the government information you had managed to get your hands on, for your safety and for the safety of those at Baker Street.
“Sherlock? Do we have a client?” A shorter man asked when he walked into the flat. You identified him as John Watson, Sherlock’s roommate and only friend.
“She’s not a client, John. She’s a criminal.” Sherlock informed his friend, who gave you a rather strange look.
“Don’t worry. I only kill people on special occasions.” You joked, but John seemed to stiffen at the comment and didn’t relax until you let out a light laugh.
“Mycroft has asked me to babysit her until he can figure out what to do with her,” Sherlock informed his roommate and you rolled my eyes.
“Why? What did she do?” John asked, a little confused as to what crime you had committed to cause such a disruption.
“I hacked into a secret government database and memorised sever hundred government secrets, ranging from sex scandals to diplomatic assassinations,” You answered casually, with a proud smirk on my face.
“And why did you do that?” Sherlock asked. The question had clearly been resting on his tongue since earlier.
“I was bored.” You shrugged and John let out a light laugh. He seemed like the type of person you could get along with. Especially considering he knew how to handle Sherlock Holmes well enough to be friends with him.
“I’m a little surprised that you agreed to help Mycroft, Sherlock,” John stated as he took a seat in an old armchair. It was clear that the action had become a habit to the retired arm doctor.
“I was bored,” Sherlock shrugged as he again started to play his violin.
That night, after getting to know John a bit better and further explaining your situation, Mrs Hudson showed you to the guest room. It was nothing special, just a simple bed and an empty wardrobe, but it was far better than the prisons you had found yourself residing in lately. There was that brief time where Mycroft kept you at his home, but you were almost positive that nothing could equate to the lavish room he had allowed you to sleep in.
Though you were itching to get away from 221b Baker Street, you decided to stay the night. If you left, you knew you would just end up spending the night on the street or in a shady hotel.
When you awoke the next morning, something was wrong. You couldn’t quite place your finger on it, but there was something different about the room. It had changed in some way, but the change was too small for you to immediately spot. Of course, the change was soon made apparent. As you got up to exit the room, your eyes landed on a small piece of paper in front of the door. You picked it up and read the message.
You knew instantly who the message was from and a sense of dread washed over you. It had been months since you had received direct instructions, and you knew this could only mean there was some sort of plan forming behind the scenes. A plan you knew you were going to regret aiding in.