Title: Stay Awake
Pairing: Older Brother!Sherlock Holmes x Teen!Sister!Reader (Family)
Fandon: Sherlock (BBC)
Word Count: 1,095
“(Y/N), you need to be going to bed....” You knew that voice. It wasn't the voice of your brother but the voice of his flatmate. John stood above you, looking down at you. He had his hands on his hips and you had to keep from laughing at how feminine he looked. He was acting like your mother.
“You know that I don't need much sleep, John.” You looked up at him, your head numbing slightly as the blood rushed to your cranium. You were lying upside down on the couch, a rubix cube in your hand. You had already solved it five times and each time you seemed to solve it quicker than the last. You then went to go and ask John if he would mess it up again. He sighed but did as you asked. Since it was such a trivial task, he would do it since you were only fifteen. Now if Sherlock asked, it would be a different story.
“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
“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 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