You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

A Scandal in Belgravia: Chapter 2

With the help of Mrs. Hudson and John, they got the man in an okay enough state to sit up in a chair and talk. He was still sweating profusely and had a terrified look in his eyes, something had happened to this man that spooked him something awful. It was going to make a good case, you could feel it in your bones.

"Tell us from the start, don't be boring." Sherlock told him, starting to pace in front of the man. You sat comfortably in Sherlock's chair studying from a distance, staying quiet.

The man continued to explain how just hours earlier his car had died on the side of the road out in the countryside. He tried to get it started, and as he was doing so noticed a man down the hillside looking towards the sky, like he was admiring the view. He continued to try to start his car and it backfired, sounding like a gunshot, but the car still didn't start. When he took a look back at the hiker, he was sprawled out on the ground. Dead.

Sherlock accepted the case, but refused to go with John to check it out. You didn't even try to convince them to let you go, you still felt sore from your fall earlier, and your wound decided to sting today, overall you felt like crap, but they didn't have to know that.

John's plan was to head out first thing in the morning when the police would continue to analyze the scene while Sherlock stayed home to "look after you". That was the excuse he made up to John so he wouldn't have to tag along, plus he claimed the case was only rated a 6 out of 10, and he'd only show up to cases worth at least a 7. Which made perfect sense to you, anything lower than that was a complete waste of time. Too bad John wasn't there to hear Sherlock say any of it... he'd stepped out of the flat somewhere and Sherlock just kept talking. He did it often, and you tended to ignore it by now.

The rest of the evening you spent curled up on the couch, filing paperwork for Bart's as well as sending stuff over to Emma, since you'd finally agreed to work part time, mostly because you really liked Mark's work. Dr. McClendon was definitely the best choice to fill in for your spot.

"Off to work." You heard John say from the doorway as he slipped on his coat. You looked up from a file, eyes scanning him.

"John, why did you accept a night shift? You have to go to that crime scene in the morning." You fretted, placing the file on the coffee table as you propped your feet up.

"You know me, I can't say no. It was an emergency client." He smiled before waving a final goodbye and heading through the door.

You yawned, picking up the file again and scribbling a few things down before groaning and flopping back into the couch. All the writing had you sore, especially from your fall earlier. Although you were healing, you could still feel the nagging pain in your chest that was a constant reminder to the accident. You groaned at you reached a hand up in attempts to rub the pain away.

"What, what is it?" Sherlock's voice rang out as he emerged from the kitchen. You raised your eyebrows at him, a small, mocking smile on your face. You quickly dropped your hand, not wanting him to get over protective.

"Sherlock, did you just leave an experiment to check on me?" He ruffled a hand through his curls, taking an interest in your files scattered across the coffee table.

"Anything worthwhile?" He inquired, flopping lazily next to you on the couch.

"Nothing you'd want to take, if that's what you're asking." You hummed. "Just boring domestic stuff. Not worth anyone's time."

"And yet, here you are, doing it."

"Oh shut up, it's my job! And don't even try to argue with me on that one, I already won." You crossed your arms, wrinkling your nose at him. Sherlock huffed at that, acting like he had no recollection of it what-so-ever.

After a few moments of comfortable silence you stretched, standing from your spot. "I'm ready to recharge for the night." You stacked your case files neatly and tucked them under your arm as you pulled your silky robe closer to your body.

"Don't forget your meds." Sherlock jumped from his spot to where your prescription meds were held in the kitchen.

"I couldn't forget even if I tried." You said hotly, not reaching for the outstretched bottle in Sherlock's hand.

"You have to take them. Doctor's orders." He replied, shaking the bottle slightly, making the pills in the bottle rattle.

"I know, I know. But they make me all loopy and my brain gets all jumbled up- which is awful by the way." You protested before finally taking the pill after Sherlock gave you a look. This whole shooting thing had really changed the way Sherlock acted around you, and you had to admit, you weren't mad about it. Well, except for the overprotective part.

"Okay, don't try to act like the couch isn't giving you back cramps, Sherlock. Sleep in your own room tonight." You told him after you sipped down your pill, and set your files in the kitchen.

"I don't need to sleep, too much stuff to get done." He simply replied.

"What? Like tomorrow's case? One look at the scene and we'll know what happened to that hiker, it's quite obvious." You argued to which he silently agreed to by not responding.

"C'mon, I'm getting a lot better, it's been almost 2 weeks since I came home! I can sleep on the couch, at least this once! Or even my flat for heaven's sake!" Sherlock shook his head stubbornly, crossing his arms to tell you this wouldn't be an easy fight.

"I'm not stupid, Y/n. I know you're still in pain. That is not happening. If something happened at your flat, I might not know before it's too late."

"Okay, then you take John's bed and I'll sleep in your room." Another quick head shake. "Then I'll take John's room, I'm sure he won't mind sharing it when he gets home in the-"

"No! Just... I can sleep on the couch."  Sherlock protested. You tapped your foot at him, biting your lip in thought. He was being annoyingly stubborn.

"Then share your bed with me. You need sleep, Sherlock. Oh don't give me that look, you act as if I don't know that you've been refusing to sleep almost the past 2 weeks. It won't be that bad! You get a comfy bed to sleep on, and so do I." Sherlock studied you for a long moment before finally agreeing. You smiled madly at your accomplishment to convince Sherlock of something and hurried off to his room.