You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Blind Banker: The End

That night, you crashed at Sherlock's place on the couch. You were much too tired to go home, plus you couldn't stop trying to get Sherlock to own up to his half of the deal. You weren't resting until you heard him say you were right.

"Come on, Sherlock! A deal is a deal! Now admit I was right! Jobs aren't useless and boring!" You sat down on his chair and he glanced at you rolling his eyes.

"I'm going to take Sara home." John told the two of you, walking out. You paid him no mind.

"I won't." Sherlock refused, turning his back in attempts to block you out.

"Why!" You shouted, crossing your legs over his chair's armrests.

"Because you haven't closed off the case, there's still more to tie up." He shrugged, pulling the pictures off of the mirror.

"Sure I did! I found the book, the code, I also know Van Coon stole the pin, oh and he gave it to that secretary... whatever her name is." You announced, Sherlock looked over his shoulder to glare at you.

"Get out of my chair." He ordered.

"You're just mad I outsmarted you! Now admit it!" You gave him a huge grin as you snuggled deeper into his chair.

"Fine! You're right." He said with a pained expression on his face, pushing your feet off the arm of his chair.

"Right about what?" You egged him on, and he found a new interest in the kitchen. "Okay, fine. It was good enough, I just wanted to hear you say more." You smiled, trotting to the kitchen to watch him be frustrated.

"Stop." He told you as you watched him grumpily move stuff around to look busy. You erupted in laughter and he shook his head at you, turning his face away.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just, you're so adorable when you're all grumpy like that." You teased. He glared at you putting the kettle on for tea.

"At least I'm not the one forgetting things even though I have a photographic memory." Sherlock shot and you crossed your arms at him. "Miss, 'I didn't tell you about the books.'" You recalled last night and rolled your eyes at him.

"Hey! That's not fair! I didn't forget, I just was preoccupied!" You said in your defense, crossing your arms at him.

"Righhhhtttt, you did say, I believe these were your exact words, 'Oh, sorry! I didn't tell you, I ordered for Van Coon and Lukis' books to all be delivered here."' Sherlock mimicked you in a high pitched voice and grinned widely at you. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to read his mind. "Oh, and we can't forget all the times your little emotional bursts got in the way of work."

"Hey! That's not fair, that's a medical condition!" You told him, frowning that he even mentioned it.

"Whatever you say." He shrugged and you glared at him, rolling your eyes.

"You're just trying to make me irritated!" You figured, trying to read the situation.

"Bingo." Sherlock tapped your nose and you blinked hard, stepping back. That was weird.

"Well, at the end of the day we all know who won this case. Also... since when did you make tea?" You marveled, shoving his arm softly. He looked down at you, shaking his head as he took two cups and poured tea. He didn't answer your question.

"I'm staying here." You told him, taking tea as he handed it to you. He nodded, not really caring. "I'm also stealing a shirt to sleep in, I'm not going back to my flat." He hummed a reply, sitting in his chair as you raided his room, changing into an old, college t-shirt of his. Much more comfortable.

You found some blankets and a pillow and made a bed on the couch, snuggling in with a book you'd never read about different breeds of dogs to get your mind off what seemed was going to be the never ending cycle of you worrying about your emotions.

"I won't be going to the bank with you and John tomorrow, I'd rather not see 'Mr. I like to walk over everyone because I'm rich and I'm the boss man'." You told Sherlock.

"I know." Sherlock nodded, scrolling on his computer, probably looking for a new case already.

"Whatever." You stated, continuing to read your book.

Eventually Sherlock got irritated and bored, so began to play the violin. You ignored it, reading about Cocker Spaniels. You eventually got too distracted to read on, you stared blankly at the pages, images of your brain scans dancing in your mind. You felt, deep down in your chest, there was no going back from here. You were going to be stuck like this forever. You made a mental note to go back to see Dr. McClendon again soon.

John eventually made it back, and you looked up at him. "How's the girl?" You asked, closing the book on your thumb to keep your spot.

"She's shaken up... a lot, but she'll be okay." He smiled slightly at you for asking, it was usually not like you to care about that stuff. You didn't, but you thought John might appreciate it. You could see he did.

"Good." You simply said shoving your face back into the book, really reading it this time. Before long, Sherlock's slow violin playing sent you off into a deep sleep.

Your sleep was filled with water. Rushing water. There was a child's shriek and a parents sob. There were doctors and surgeries and kids pushing at school yelling, calling a little girl a freak. There was a man, your ex, slapping you across the face, yelling vulgar words.

You gasped awake, wiping your face as you sat up on Sherlock's couch, your book falling to the floor. You took a deep breath, wondering why on earth you had that dream, and why it actually scared you. You usually didn't dream... they'd stopped after the accident. You then looked around seeing Sherlock and John staring at you from the kitchen, obviously they were in mid conversation when you burst awake.

"Haha.... Morning." You laughed awkwardly, flattening your hair with your hands as you stood up. You walked into the kitchen, pulling at the hem of Sherlock's shirt you were wearing, before pouring yourself a cup of tea. It was awkwardly silent as the pair of men watched you.

"You went to Oxford?" John finally asked, breaking the tension. He motioned towards your shirt with a scone in his hand.

"No, don't be silly. I went to the University of Cambridge. This is Sherlock's." You simply stated, sipping your tea. You saw a blank look on Sherlock's face as he gazed at you.

"Oh." John stated, eyebrows raised.

"Oh John, don't be stupid. She borrowed one of my old shirts so she didn't have to sleep in her clothes." Sherlock stated, looking back to his newspapers.

"Right... anyways as I was saying before... You cracked the code. And maybe now that Dimmock knows it he can track down the others."

"Whoa, I cracked the code." You corrected, sipping your tea, yawning. They ignored you continuing.

"No. I crack this code, all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book." Sherlock told John, shuffling through another newspaper.

"I cracked the code." You said again, scoffing at Sherlock and John. Neither of them acknowledged you and you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever, I'm getting ready for work. Hope you don't need the bathroom, because I'm using it." You huffed, marching away, John chuckling as you left. You were just happy to finish yet another fun case.