You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Great Game: Chapter 3

Once you made it to Baker Street, you pushed past emergency responders yelling at them when they tried to withhold you from the scene. You kept telling them you lived here and your friend was in 221B. They eventually let you through and you gasped when you saw the shattered windows of Sherlock's flat.There didn't seem to be that much damage to your strip of flats though. That made you feel a bit better.

You raced up the stairs and burst into his flat, breathing heavily. "Sherlock! Are you alright?!" You raced to his side, clutching his chin to scan him for any injuries he may have sustained from the blast. He pushed you away but you hugged him awkwardly, considering he was sat in a chair, with his violin laid across his chest. You immediately pulled away, not knowing why you reacted the way you did. You brushed yourself off, returning to your blank look.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me. I just saw the news and I thought..." You shook your head not wanting to consider the possibilities. "I'm glad you're okay." You nodded, stepping back. You looked around the room seeing Mycroft and John both staring at you.

"Mycroft, hello." You greeted, nodding at him as you composed yourself. "What brings you here?" You questioned, studying him. He looked at you a long time before he answered. You knew exactly what he was thinking, but you weren't going to acknowledge it.

"A case." He pulled a file from beside him and you raised your eyebrows. "But my dear brother here, refuses to take it." He stated this sternly, looking glumly over to Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes, plucking the strings of his violin.

"Not worth my time." He stated. You scanned him, shaking your head. You saw right through his act.

"What, because your brother brought it for you? Sherlock, you've been wanting a case all day, why not just take this one. If he's coming to you, it must be exciting." You tried, pulling your coat off to hang it on the door. Sherlock glared at you, and you read his face. You'd said something he didn't want Mycroft to know. Oops. 'Sorry' you tried mouthing to him. He rolled his eyes.

"No, thanks. Something else has come up." Sherlock replied stubbornly, concentrating on his violin. You studied him, knowing nothing else had come up. He was just being an annoying little brother to Mycroft.

"I knew my brother would be reluctant to take the case. That's why I brought it for the both of you." Mycroft stood, carrying the case file under his arm. It seemed if Mycroft had caught what you said, he didn't really care. That was good at least. No sibling bickering would hopefully be happening.

"Oh, no. I'd love to take an interesting case more than you know, but I have 20 other files over there that need to be closed." You gestured to the stacked files on the table. You really wanted this case. You hadn't been out on a run in weeks! It was really starting to drive you insane. Maybe you should try picking up Sherlock's gun and giving the wall a couple shots. After a bit of thought, you decided against it. It didn't seem to help Sherlock any.

"Andrew West. Known as "Westie" to his friends. Civil servant. Found dead on the rails at Battersea station this morning. Head smashed in." Mycroft handed you the case and you flipped through it, sighing.

"I can't accept this case, Mycroft." You handed it back to him, shaking your head.

Mycroft nodded in understanding before turning to John, placing it in his hands. John flipped through it looking up at Mycroft.

"Jumped in front of a train?" John asked, flipping through pictures of West lying dead on the tracks, head bashed in. You gazed at John, then Sherlock and shook your head, crossing your arms.

"That seems the logical assumption." Mycroft answered, with a small smile on his face. You hurried to the kitchen to grab your files before you got too deep into Mycroft's case. The last thing you needed was more work at the moment. You didn't want to deal with Emma blowing up your phone waiting for all these cases.

You blocked out Mycroft and John and began checking the first file on the stack. It seems as if an intern started the file work and you sighed, uncapping your pen to fix mistakes they had made. You'd made it through half of the files before you sighed, not wanting to continue. You heard Sherlock furiously bouncing his bow on his violin and looked back to see Mycroft stepping out of the flat. Once he was out of sight, Sherlock rolled his eyes setting his violin to the side.

"Alright, why didn't you want Mycroft to know you didn't have any cases?" You asked, standing from your spot and crossing over to Sherlock. He stared at you, not answering. "Sherlock, you're beginning to show emotion." You waited a moment before you said, "Fine. I'll just do it my way." You studied him, eyes narrowed as you deduced him. You shook your head, turning to John. "Sibling rivalry, of course. I should've known." You took a long, exasperated sigh as you sunk into the couch.

"Interesting... Sherlock's got a past." John huffed, annoyed with Sherlock. Suddenly, Sherlock's phone rang and he quickly pulled it from his pocket, answering it. You watched him, wondering who it was.

"Sherlock Holmes." There was a pause as Sherlock's face grew into a tiny grin. You instantly knew it was Lestrade. "How could I refuse?" He jumped up and you were already pulling on your coat, John watching.

"Lestrade. I'm summoned. Coming?" Sherlock simply said as he made it to the door.

"Of course." You replied going to follow him. "I suppose these case files can wait a moment more."

"If you want me to." John answered, standing still in his spot.

"Of course! I'm lost without my blogger!" Sherlock commented brightly, wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"Urm, Y/N and I will meet you there!" John yelled to Sherlock as he grabbed onto your elbow pulling you back into the flat. You looked back at John with curiosity. John stood there before he heard the flats door close and he turned to you with a grin. Here we go, you thought.

"Sorry for keeping you back... but I couldn't get you alone any other time." He started, and you sighed deciding not to even let him ask the question.

"No, John. I don't like Sherlock as more than a friend. Why does everyone keep asking me that?" You rolled your eyes, thinking back to when Molly had asked. It's like everyone kept forgetting you were emotionless for God sakes. It really wasn't that complicated. You didn't have emotions, Sherlock claimed he was a sociopath which was... mostly true. He thought love was pointless and made you weak, you couldn't feel love. End of story and done. Except... of course, that was now a lie. You could feel emotions.

"How did you...? Nevermind. Listen, I know how your brain works and how to you, all the relationship stuff seems impossible, but I don't believe it for a second. Take a look at how you acted today, you ran here worried sick about Sherlock. You hugged him, Y/n. You feel something even though you might not know what it is. And I know Sherlock does too." You stared at him unblinking, not listening to a word he just said.

It couldn't possibly be true. You had emotions, sure, but they weren't consistent. It would be crazy for John to assume you liked Sherlock. And John saying Sherlock felt something for you? That was insane. He wouldn't ever think of you like that, no one would. Even if Sherlock did like you, he'd never say anything about it. You agreed with him that emotions, sentiment, was not worth it. It made you vulnerable and you'd never do that to yourself. It would ruin the way you thought when on a case, you'd constantly be worried. You didn't need that.

"I believe you're wrong, John. I told this to Molly, and now I'll tell you. It's scientifically impossible. Now, let's catch up to Sherlock before he gets too far ahead." You lied, rushing out of the flat, hailing a cab, and climbing in.