Lost and Found (Sherlock x Reader)

The Great Game (Part 1)

Bang!

A gunshot sounded causing your heart to leap in your chest.
Your dream always started the same way. It began at the school where you found Sherlock about to eat that blasted pill! Your voice echoed through the room as you screamed his name.

That's when the first gunshot goes off, then the scene changed...

You were back in your flat. Your back pressed against your door as you wait for the inevitable to come. The bullet will tear through the door and pierce through your shoulder.
It was always the same and there wasn't ever any way you could change it.
Tonight had been the same. The bullet hits your shoulder...
But you didn't wake up this time. Not yet. Instead you heard a voice. A familiar one at that. It's John.

"SHERLOCK!"

Another gunshot rang out and...

You gasped awake in bed. Sweat coated your forehead as you scanned your bedroom frantically. You were about to let out the breath you didn't know you were holding when two more gunshots rang out.
You scrambled out of bed when the last one sounded. There was a slight tingling feeling in your shoulder, but you ignored that for the time being.
Quickly throwing on your robe, you rushed out the door and up the stairs to John and Sherlock's flat.

"Is everything okay?" You asked.

Your panicked state must have been very evident as John glared at Sherlock. The consulting detective noticed the fear in your eyes as well and gave you a momentary apologetic look. He knows that you caught it as he then made his way to the sofa.

"Don't know what's gotten into the criminal classes. Good job I'm not one of them," He said as John walked to the small safe on the table and locked up the gun.

You let out a sigh and leaned against the doorframe, slightly relieved to know that it was only Sherlock shooting the wall.

"So you take it out on the wall?" John questioned his friend.

"Ah, the wall had it coming." Sherlock traces his finger along the yellow spray-painted smiley face on the wall. He then turned and dramatically fell back onto the couch.
You rolled your eyes at his childlike mannerisms. But you loved him nonetheless. Your heart skipped a beat at that thought.

'Love?! You can't love him, y/n! Don't do that to yourself!'

You shook aside your unusually loud thoughts. Sherlock was simply a friend. Nothing more nothing less.

'Only for now.'

Your eyes widened at your own brain's snarky tone. John then spoke, bringing you back to the conversation, "What about that Russian case?"

"Russian?" You inquired, suddenly intrigued.

Sherlock waved it off though. "Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time."

"Ah. Shame," John responded, sarcasm coating his words.

You watched him walk to the kitchen then looked back to Sherlock. He just simply laid there, not even noticing you staring.

'He is dreamy isn't he?'

The voice in your head spoke again. She sounded like a girl with a silly crush. But then the other voice spoke and dashed the hope from you.

'Don't waste your time! He won't love you back.'

While these thoughts ran through your head, a small smile played on your lips as something occurred to you. These voices were like your shoulder angel and devil. Except for you, they seemed to be a shoulder matchmaker and a shoulder matchbreaker.
You had to hold back a giggle as you imagined two small versions of yourself sitting on your shoulder telling you how to live your life.