You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

A Scandal in Belgravia: Chapter 9

You woke up to soft violin music playing and you sighed a massive headache overcoming you. You turned onto your back, your eyes studying the room. You remembered the night before and sat up, gasping when a wave of nausea overtook you. You sprinted into the hallway rushing into the bathroom just in time to get sick in the toilet. You groaned, pushing yourself back against the wall as you breathed heavily. You ran your hand over your mouth, flushing the toilet and staying on the ground for a while. You knew if you got up too quickly, you'd get sick again. You wanted to avoid that at all costs, considering it severely hurt your chest wound.

You heard the violin playing stop, and closed your eyes against the light coming into the room from the hall. The floorboards creaked and you heard the door being pushed open softly. You looked up to see Sherlock with a glass of water, your medicine, and sweatpants in his arms. You smiled softly at him as he crouched down next to you, he handed over the sweatpants first, letting you cover up since you'd practically stripped down last night, being drunk and all. After you got the sweatpants pulled on, he gave you the water for you to drink. You did, sighing in relief. It was just what you needed. You then took the medicine, knowing it'd help your headache. After you finished the water, Sherlock led you back to bed, tucking you under the covers. He went back to playing his violin softly and you fell asleep to its sound.

You awoke an hour or so later, and Sherlock was still playing the violin. You felt much better and ready to seize the day. You got dressed and emerged from Sherlock's room, seeing John gazing at Sherlock. You ruffled your hair and watched Mrs. Hudson scoop up an empty plate and an untouched one.

"Oh, hello, Y/n! I didn't know you stayed over, would you like something to eat?" She hummed happily. You shook your head, your stomach not ready for food yet. Apparently Sherlock's wasn't either. You followed her into the kitchen, looking over the messy kitchen table.

"Okay, well I'm going out." John announced, flipping his keys in his hands. He headed over to you and Mrs. Hudson, his eyes studying you. "Listen, you're probably the closest one to Sherlock here. And when I say that, I mean it. Does he talk to you? Are you in a relationship yet? I mean you did just come out of his room."

"He doesn't talk to me about that, but I understand his pain... and no we're quite clearly not in a relationship if he's this upset over another girl. And that's different, I just fell asleep there because I was drunk." You told John, gazing at Sherlock's back as he played.

"Has he ever been in a relationship?" He turned towards Mrs. Hudson in questioning and she shrugged. "How do we not know?" John laughed, shaking his head.

"It's Sherlock. How will we ever know what goes on in that funny old brain of his?" Mrs. Hudson shook her head and John nodded, flipping his keys once again before he left the flat.

You followed him out, about to enter your flat when you caught sight of one of Mycroft's assistants standing outside the door. You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide. Mycroft had no reason for sending her here, what the hell was she doing?

You waited a solid minute before you slowly opened the door to the flat, seeing John get into a car with her. You rushed through the door, not bothering to put on a coat as you flagged down a taxi, climbing in.

You told the taxi driver to follow the car, and he did, without question. When you pulled into a construction complex, you told the driver to stop. You paid him and climbed out, going around back. You scanned your surroundings seeing soft footprints in the dust of the concrete floors. Not Mycroft's footprints, too small. A female's foot.

You followed them until you saw none other than who you assumed was Irene Adler's back to yours. It had to be her, there was no one else it could be.

"I'm not one custom to calling people rude names on purpose, but you bitch." You shook your head as she turned around, her red lips grinning at you like the Cheshire cat. You scanned her, your deductions coming up nearly empty. Sherlock had been right about her, you didn't like that. It only meant she was hiding something.

"So you're the girl Sherlock never shuts up about." Irene smiled, stepping closer to you. Her white teeth sparkled as her eyes scanned your body. You squinted at her, Sherlock talked about you? "I can see why. You are gorgeous." She circled around you and you shook your head, regaining your composure.

"You were dead and you broke him." You began to feel angry and you glared at her for hurting Sherlock. "He hasn't eaten, you know. He's writing sad music. The only thing he's done is take care of me." You said, regretting not doing the same for him when he needed you.

"Of course he has, you're my big competition." You looked away, shaking your head. The insecurities you'd felt... the anger towards Sherlock, now gone.

"No... tell him you're alive." You ordered, taking more interest in the sky peeking through the unfinished building then in the women in front of you.

"He'll come after me." She shook her head in disagreement and you snapped your eyes back to hers, searching them. What were her intentions?

"Well, he's going to either way. And if not, I will. Now, what do you want? You didn't bring John here for no apparent reason." You placed your hands on your hips, awaiting her answer. When she was about to answer, you interrupted her. "No! It's that phone, right? Your protection? You want it back."

"Well, I was going to ask John for help, but I guess you'll do. Almost better, in fact. The way you and Sherlock solve cases, it's the new sexy you know." Her pupils dilated at that and you visibly saw that she found your skills attractive. That made you uncomfortable.

"I'm not helping you. Now tell him you're alive, or I will. Right now." You told her, turning on your heel ready to walk away.

"What do I say?" She asked quickly to stop you from leaving. You stopped, rolling your eyes at her as you turned around. You did hear a dash of panic in her voice, which made you feel a bit better. She didn't know what to do without that protection, people are so afraid of death.

"Well, I don't know. You're the one that's been texting him non-stop. I'm sure you'll come up with something." You said bitterly. She looked over you, then pulled her phone from her pocket, looking down at the screen.

"You're jealous." She smiled as she typed. You watched her, shaking your head. That was completely false.

"I don't get jealous. Not of you." You shot back, pursing your lips. You watched as she typed away on her phone, coming up with something to say to Sherlock.

"Yes you do. It's fine, you're practically dating the man. I should be jealous of you. Besides, he never answers my texts." You blinked at her, not thinking of a witty remark. "'I'm not dead. Let's have dinner.' There." She said clicking send on the phone. You opened your mouth to speak but were quickly interrupted.

"What the..." You heard John gasp and you turned to look at him, his face one of utter shock as he took in you and Irene. He took his time finally showing up.

"John, you're late." Irene smiled, gazing at him as he stared with big eyes, not understanding how Irene was here in front of him and alive. After all, she was dead. But not really.

You heard the small moaning sound that was none other than Sherlock's ringtone. You looked up, seeing him turning away and hurrying down the hall. You should've known he would've followed you and John! You were dumb to think otherwise, and now this made the entire situation much worse. You took a step after him then bit your lip, knowing your company was the last thing he needed to clear his mind. You stayed, giving John a grave look as you watched Sherlock hurry away.