“You’ve already eaten half the tub, love. It’s bad for you.”
You let out a pathetic whine, “Johhnn.”
Your brother didn’t even look up from his computer, “Give her back the ice cream, Sherlock.”
“You know as well as I do that that much sugar is not good for a person’s system, she-“
He cut Sherlock off, looking up with an entirely unamused expression, “Just give it back.”
John opened his mouth to respond but caught a glimpse of you and let out a heavy sigh, shooting Sherlock a glare as he moved to crouch in front of you. You’d started to
“Mrs. Hudson are you almost ready?” You called over your shoulder as you stepped into your red stilettos.
“Oh yes just one second dear!” She called as you heard her rummaging through a jewelry box. You turned back to the mirror again taking in your appearance when Sherlock and John came bounding d
You were the top forensic blood spatter analyst in the UK and it kept you rather busy and alone most of the time. Honestly that was how you preferred it, the living were cruel and overly complex and the dead were quiet and, frankly, simple.
When your jazzy ringtone broke the silence in your lab, you scooted your chair to where it was with a kick of your legs and then answered it, “(F/n) (L/n), h-how may I help you?”
Lestrade’s voice rang out on the other end with the words that you both hated and loved to hear, “(L/n) You are needed at a crime scene Asap.” He gave you a location, y
“I can’t stop now Sherlock. I just unlocked a new mission!” You didn’t even turn away from the TV when you answered Sherlock and that made him even more annoyed than he already was.
“That’s not important now turn it off,” he demanded.
“Sherlock there is dragon burning down villages. I think that qualifies as important.”
“(y/n) its four in the morning and you’ve been there for nearly seventeen hours. It normally wouldn’t matter but seeing as you haven’t slept for forty-eight hours you need to stop.”
“Just five more minutes.”
“You haven’t even been blinking, that’s going to dry out your eyes,” he said as he walked to your side.
“Of course I’ve been blinking, don’t be ridiculous,” you said brushing off his words.
“(y/n) look at me,” he ordered.
“Ugggh what Sherlock?
“Ugh why are you here?” she said looking at Sherlock.
“Lestrade wanted me to solve a case, seeing as you were obviously no help with it,” Sherlock said with a smirk.
“Well we can’t all be psychopaths now can we? Besides you aren’t as important as you think really. You’re just Lestrade’s pet freak,” she said harshly. There was that word again. Freak. You hated when she called Sherlock that, the way she spat the word at him with such malice and hate.
“You know Sally,” you said releasing Sherlock’s hand and stepping in front of h
You didn’t care. In fact, you enjoyed it. Being evil was so delightfully delicious and terribly fun. It also meant you got meet the most interesting people, including your current boyfriend, Jim Moriarty.
You thought about that for a moment, relishing in the memory of the first time you’d met, before wrapping your arms around his neck from behind, “Jim~”
He was at his desk, working on something you knew was important, and didn’t stop to respond, “Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to say?”
You spun him, forcing him to stop, an action only you could get away with and even then it was still a little dangerous. He glared up at you but you ignored it, straddling his lap as you tugged at his tie.
“You want something. What?” He stated flatly.
You gave him your best pouty face, a move you only pulled when you really, really wanted something,
In the flat of 221b, a certain army doctor and consulting detective were grumbling and complaining. The weather was a quite a bit hotter than usual, and with no air conditioner the heat inside was merely growing. They were very irritated with the heat, but even more irritated with you because you were paying no attention to it.
“Look at her sitting there so calm and complacent, acting as if it doesn’t feel like a furnace in here,” Sherlock said to John.
“Sitting right here Sherlock, I can hear you,” you said as you kept your eyes on your phone.
“Well I’m glad you can hear me because I would like to point out that you are being ridiculous,” he responded.
“You’re the one with a bag of frozen peas on your head,” you retorted.
“They’re not peas they’
John chuckled from across the table, reading his own section of paper as you worked on the Sudoku puzzle in yours. It was a habit you’d both gotten into since you’d moved into their spare bedroom, you and John both got up at reasonable hours, switched off making breakfast, and then sat and split the paper.
He always read the news and you went for the crosswords and Sudoku, you liked the challenge and, while the crossword often went unfinished, you were fairly good at Sudoku. It kept your mind sharp for what ever challenges Sherlock was sure to get the three of you into.
You started scanning again, writing in a succession of numbers the nine had made apparent
“So this man is innocent, and was framed by his brother so that he would be sent to prison?” John asked Sherlock, making sure he understood correctly.
“Yes, it’s very obvious,” Sherlock said as he began playing a slow tune on his violin.
“That’s terrible,” John stated, “doing that to your own brother.”
“His brother was probably the favorite,” you replied from Sherlock’s chair, taking a bite of an apple Mrs. Hudson had given you earlier.
“Favorite? What does that have to do with anything?” Sherlock remarked.
“Well everyone has favorites, whether they admit it or not,” you replied. “And that favoritism often leads to jealously, especially when one comes from a rich family like that man did.”
“Not everyone has favorites,” Sherlock scoffed, still playing his violin.
You puffed out the smoke you were holding in your lungs through your nose, your eyes closed, “You aren’t real.”
Sherlock frowned as you took another long drag of your cigarette and then put it out on his gravestone, shaking your head as if trying to clear your thoughts. You turned and let your eyes slide open, looking at him for only a moment before drifting past him, “You aren’t real. Please go away. John’s already thinking of committing me and I would prefer that not happen.”
“(F/n)…” he called but you kept moving, “I don’t want to see you anymore, Sherlock. I can’t handle this. It’s unhealthy.”
You really didn’t believe he was there, what had you been seeing for you not to believe in what was right in front of you?
He jogged to catch up with you, placing himself in your path and holding your shoulders, and you looked up at him for a moment before yank
You were soaked and shivering, as you trudged down the street towards the flat where John and Sherlock were waiting for you to come back from work. There hadn’t been any time for you to duck under an awning before you were drenched by the sudden down pour, the sky seemingly dumping a bucket of water on you, and what was little more water when you were already wet. Your teeth had just begun to chatter when the rain suddenly wasn’t hitting you anymore.
“You are going to catch a cold running about in weather like this my dear.” Came a familiar voice and you looked up to find Mycroft softly smiling down at you, holding his umbrella over your head.
Despite your current state,
Spying your older brother across the station, you crept up behind him with a mischievous grin and pounced on to his back. “You really need to be more observant, Johnny.”
He laughed and yanked you over his shoulder so he could sweep you up into a warm hug. “(F/n), you little brat! I was starting to worry. What took you so long?”
You giggled, pulling him to you tightly. “You always worry, you old worry wart. I was just delayed a bit. Arg It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s good to see you too, Squeak.”
He swept you off your feet again and you squealed, “John, put me down this second!”
When he wouldn’t, you poked his side lightly, causing him to
In all the time he’d known you, there had never been anything between you beyond a friendship that for some reason worked better than most and was stronger than he ever could have anticipated. It was something that had happened without him ever realizing, that friendship, but right now, sitting in his chair watching you making tea, he wished there had been more- not really for the love but to have a deeper connection, to escape from the loneliness he’d discovered in his heart.
He gave a fleeting smile at the skull still on the mantle before observing the rest of the fl
Recently Sherlock had been working on an interesting case and John was unable to assist so you have volunteered instead, you enjoyed watching Sherlock and picking up on some of the things he noticed. After checking all the rooms John decided to ask Sherlock where you were, thinking that you had possibly had enough. When John informed S
Air's getting thin, but I'm trying, I'm breathing in
Come find me
It hasn't felt like this before
It hasn't felt like home before you
I have some information for my brother. Tea at noon?- MH
Mycroft let out a heavy sigh. How had he gotten himself in to this? Years and years of nothing and then you come along and change everything in an instant. He felt like every encounter with you was just making him fall further into the hole he’d dug himself and yet he still sought you out as often as he could. It was a direct contradiction to his beliefs and a continuous source of confusion for him.
All his life he’d felt above it all, like some superior entity watching over this insignificant world- a world he didn’t belong in. But when he was with you it was like he’d been blind, the world suddenly seemed interesting and so comfortably real, and suddenly he felt at home.
How long could he keep hiding that f
No sooner than you had stepped through the door with a huff, your phone let out a cry for attention and you spun slightly in its direction as if that would free your hands so you could retrieve it from you pocket.
You scrunched up your face and hoped John was close since Sherlock wasn’t likely to move from the couch to get it for you, “JOHN!”
He popped his head out from the kitchen, his eyes widening slightly at the mass amount of things you had, and you let out a relieved sigh, “Oh good. Would you please get my phone? It could be important.”
He approached you, hands hovering hesitantly as he tried to locate it before determining where it was and pulling it from your pocket to quickly answer it. He gaped at the pace the person on the other end starte
You trudged down the stairs, rubbing your eyes as you came into the living room only to jump when they found Sherlock in his chair. You snapped your head to face forward and then consciously avoided that area, slipping into the kitchen in search of John.
You found him, as usual, making tea and quietly began poking at Sherlock’s science equipment on the table, you’d always been interested in the oddly colored liquids he worked with and wondered briefly what would happen if you mixed two of the vials together.
John happened to look up just as you got a wicked smile on your face and picked up a vial with something blue in it, “Pu
“Sherlock? Where’s the butter?”
“I used it for an experiment.”
“And you couldn’t have told me that before I went to the grocery so I could get more?”
You let out a little growl at the ceiling, “I’ll just have to ask-“
“I used all Mrs. Hudson’s as well.”
You slumped against the counter. All you had wanted was a grilled cheese. Just toasty bread and melted cheese. But of course in this household that was asking too much.
Two weeks. Two weeks you’d wanted a grilled cheese and every time you went to make one something came up. Needless to say that at this point the craving was almost unbearable.
John came into the kitchen to find you looking at your ingredients with the most dejected look on your face. You looked like a kicked puppy and it was damn near heartbreaking. He wrapped an arm around your shoulde
John walked in just as he said it and gawked at you, incredulously asking, “What’ve you done now?”
Your eyes searched the street – maybe you’d lost them, after all. “Why do you always assume I’ve done something?”
You inhaled quickly and pressed yourself against the wall next to the window, out of sight of those on the street below. Sherlock got up to see who you were trying to evade and his gaze found a couple of police officers below, glancing around confusedly.
John joined him just as the two turned and went back the way they came, answering you, “Maybe because you rarely haven’t… Care to explain why you’re hiding from the bobbies?”
You peeked aroun
I began to wonder around the field, trying to find my friends Dean and Sam. Something about this farm was...off. I couldn't put my finger on it. I tried to fly but something wouldn't allow me to. Whoever was doing this, they wanted me to stay put. This situation didn't sit well in my stomach, or something along those lines. All I remember was going with Sam and Dean on a case when everything went blank.
~Flashback in normal POV~
Team Free Will was getting set for another hunt in Waukegan, Illinois. There were many murders and reports of strange events that red flagged for supernatural activity but the strange thing was that all the reports showed signs of multiple monsters. Skinwalker, shapeshifter, demon, ghosts, vampires, rugarus, and even angels. Sam, Dean, and Castiel all had a bad feeling about this hunt but continued to do it anyway since that's what it's all about. The team soon arrives at anot
Those were the last three words that John had ever thought would come out of Sherlock’s mouth.
Even Sherlock seemed rather disgusted by the notion, but it was true nonetheless, and it wasn’t doing them any good to ignore it. He knew that there was something he was missing. He had been going over the case for days now to no avail and time was running out.
Sherlock scowled as he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of the person he despised most and waited as it rang twice before a voice answered, “This is a pleasant surprise Sherlock. But, as you know I’m very busy, I shall assume that there is a pressing reason for you calling.”
“I need to know where she is Mycroft.”
John jumped, had Sherlock just called Mycroft willingly? This couldn’t be real. He pinched himself to make sure which Sherlock noticed rolling his eyes.
“If that is all you are calling for then let me get back to my work because I shan’t be tel
He looked down at you for a moment when your head hit his shoulder and John was sure he was going to shrug you off but he simply turned to look back out the window.
John was beginning to think the two of you were hiding something. He wasn’t stupid after all and you were both acting strange. Sherlock had been not only rather quiet about you but he also was being surprisingly friendly and you would seem like your usual self and then all of the sudden you’d do something worrisome.
He pursed his lips, you would tell him if something was wrong, there were hardly any secrets between you two and certainly none that really mattered. He had always been close with you, all the way from running around with your pudgy hand in his as kids to calling you in the middle of the night when he had nightmares af
This startles (y/n), who spills some tea on her shirt. She yelps in pain, repeatedly patting the spot dry.
Her (e/c) eyes drift towards her flatmate, an angry glare in them.
"I am not! Why must you say such ridiculous things? " She retorts, retreating to the kitchen to fetch a towel.
He keeps a straight face, plucking away on his violin. John welcomes himself in and walks by them. Sherlock asks, "Isn't (y/n) becoming pale?"
Without a doubt, the former military doctor replies, "Yes, for once, you're right. She is pale."
She groans, returning to her seat, blot drying her blouse.
Rising to her feet, she tries to leave, but the detective prevents her from evading.
He gently holds her hand, "You're ice cold. Normally, your hands are warm,"
His fingers dig into the flesh of her wrist to locate her pulse. "Your heart beat is unusually irregular."
Both of his hands cup her face and the pads of his thumbs softly pull down on her bottom eye lids. He cran
You shifted nervously, tugging at your clothes and running a quick hand through your hair as you heard her begin, “Hello Sherlock dear. Was I mistaken in believing that today is the day John said his younger sister was to arrive?”
You felt a reassuring hand on your shoulder and looked nervously up at you brother. He knew you’d recently developed a dislike towards meeting new people because your personality tended to be a little overwhelming – at least, that’s how you’d put it. You looked at the ground as John announced, “You were not, Mrs. Hudson. This is my little sister, (F/N).”
Sherlock gave you an odd look as you quickly stuck out your hand and mumbled stiffly, “It is so very nice to meet you, Mrs. Hudson. John speaks
You got a strange feeling as you took in your surroundings, letting Sherlock go ahead of you as you did what you did best, observed. You came out of it with a little frown, stepping over to the body to stand next to Sherlock, he looked to you, “What do you see?”
You shook your head, “Something’s not right. He fits the profile, same erratic stabbing pattern and similar features to the other two victims, but he didn’t live here… I just have this strange feeling that something is off. I can’t place it.”
Sherlock nodded, going back to his own deductions, “The other two victims were killed in their own living spaces. This is his sister’s house.”
Yellow police tape blocked the off the flight of stairs that you were currently standing on. John shot Sherlock a disapproving look and Lestrade ran his hand through his greying hair. You merely rolled your eyes in Sherlock’s direction before crouching down next to the body. Quickly your eyes ran over the man taking in everything you could before standing up and sending Sherlock a smug grin.
“It was an accident. He tripped over his trouser leg at the very top of the stairs, he was in a rush and the lift isn’t working. Lost his balance and rolled down the stairs. Probably went headfirst and was quickly knocked unconscious hence why he fell down so many flights without stopping or calling for help. Officer worker with no partner and if his parents are still alive they are very elderly.”
You smiled at Sherlock who begrudgingly nodded his
He groaned and nuzzled into your breast as the arm at your waist and the leg he’d thrown over yours at some point in the night tightened around you, pressing his body closer to yours in his sleep clinging. You sighed and tried again, refusing to wake up more than you absolutely had to, “Sherlock, love, s’too bright.”
The grown man hugging you like a koala on a tree let out a comically childlike whine but still flopped out of bed to close the blinds against the morning sun, his sleep riddled mind working only enough to finish the task and return to you. He crawled back under the covers, wrapping around you from behind when he found you’d rolled to your side, and buried his nose into
“Shut up. You left us. And I don't just mean (Son's Name) and I. I mean everyone. John, Mrs Hudson, Greg, Mycroft, Molly-”
“Molly and My-”
“Don't interrupt me, dammit.”
Sherlock shut up after that, casting his glance to the side for a brief second. After his reunion with John, which didn't go quite as planned, he thought things would go much smoother with his fiancée. Turns out, he was wrong. Again.
“Can I speak now?” He nodded. “Good. Now you listen to me. You jumped. You died. And I had to hear about it from John. I was sitting here with (S. Name) and you were off faking your suicide. Two years...”
Sherlock edged a bit closer, careful not to anger you further. He still didn't speak, knowing you were about to speak again.
“Not a word. Not a breath
You looked up at him, your breathing painfully short, and he calmly locked his eyes with yours, “I need you to take some deep breaths (F/n).”
Nodding, you attempted to take a deeper breath and ended up hiccuping, frustrated tears escaping down your cheeks. He pursed his lips worriedly and reached to wipe them away but you pulled back from him shaking your head violently. He looked hurt and, immediately regretting you actions, you quickly reassured him, reaching to take his hand. He wove his fingers between yours and sandwiched your hand between both of his, “You need to breathe (F/n).”
You gave him a look that said you were trying and he felt lost. He didn’t know what he should do, logically he should be getting you to slow your breathing as he was sure you would soon pass out if you didn’t but nothing he was doing was h
You were examining a woman with a mess of curly hair that was giving off a rather bitter vibe when John stopped in front of you and you ran straight into his back at full speed. You tumbled backwards to the floor, holding a hand over your nose as you softly cursed, “Merde… of all the bloody…”
Sherlock was looking down at you in an unamused way as John extended a hand. You blushed bright red and shook your head, getting up by yourself to examine the floor, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of… well everyone.”
Sherlock’s face softened and John wrapped an arm around you with a frown,
All in all, you were ready for the day to be over and it wasn’t a surprise when you crashed and burned on the couch, fully clothed, while watching a Connie Prince rerun.
You were awakened by a pressing knock on your door, rolling off the couch with a thud and a groan as you yelled, “Coming.”
You glanced at the clock as you pulled yourself off the floor- 2:30 am- and then trudged toward the door, “I swear if you’re some sort of mass murderer… I have