You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

A Scandal in Belgravia: Chapter 4

Right when Sherlock was escorted from the flat, you immediately dialed Mycroft, pacing around the flat, annoyed. You knew he was behind all of this.

"Yes, Y/n?" He hesitantly answered, knowing full well if he hadn't, you'd march straight through the palace gates.

"Okay, what the hell, Mycroft? Why did you just kidnap Sherlock and not bring me? What kind of case is this? You know I'm going to find out sooner or later." You exploded, feeling really aggravated with him at the moment. This could've been the first big case with you back in the game, it would've been amazing! He had taken your opportunity away.

"Well, you're still not fully recovered are you? You knew the trouble I'd have to deal with if I let you in on this case." Mycroft lied.

"You really think you can lie to me? You couldn't give one crap if Sherlock was mad at you for letting me in on a case, what's going on?" You were pacing now, rubbing your fingers over the old scar above your brow.

"I don't expect you to understand, Y/n, but this case is top secret and I have the feeling with you being involved in it, it could compromise the case." Mycroft said steadily into the phone, you outwardly groaned. He wasn't lying this time.

"How so? Who am I going to tell, the Queen?"

"I can't disclose that information. You're smart, I'm sure you'll figure it out." At that, Mycroft hung up and you screamed, tossing your phone onto the couch.

"This is completely and utterly STUPID." You threw yourself into Sherlock's chair, wincing at the slight pain in your chest and back. You sighed at your stupid emotional outburst before trying to occupy yourself with other things. Which wasn't going to work with the knowledge of where Sherlock was at the moment on your mind.

***

Sherlock and John had been gone for a good two, almost three hours now and you began to grow even more bored than you were before. What was taking them so long? You were about to give in and call one of them when you heard the flat's door burst open.

"Y/n!" You heard John gasp and hard footsteps. You jumped up, rushing to the stairs to see what was going on. You saw John holding an unconscious Sherlock, trying very hard to keep him supported. You gasped, rushing to John's aid as you helped him get Sherlock up the stairs and into his bed.

"What happened?" You asked John, looking over Sherlock's face. His cheek was bloody from what looked like a hard impact from a blunt force and it was already starting to bruise.

"It's a long story." John sighed, signaling you to follow him out of the room. You did, shutting Sherlock's door quietly behind you.

"I'm technically not supposed to talk to you about this, but I know you'll dig into it anyway." You grinned at John, he'd finally learned something about you that was true. "There's this woman, her name is Irene Adler. She has compromising photos of a particular person on her cell phone that cannot be released to the public. Mycroft thinks she's using them as blackmail. Anyway, Sherlock had this whole plan to get into her house and it began with him punching me so I would punch him back, and-"

"Hold on a second. You punched Sherlock?" You held up a finger, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Yes, did you not hear me say he punched me first?" John asked. You motioned him to continue.

"So, Irene's assistant led Sherlock into the living area and I walked in to see a very naked Irene. Long story short, Sherlock found Irene's phone and tried to take it, but Irene drugged Sherlock to get the phone back from him and she disappeared. Oh! And we were attacked by American agents somewhere in there too, but they're pretty much dead now." John casually explained while you stared at him wide eyed.

"And I missed this?! You've got to be kidding! Ugh, this Irene sounds awful." You scrunched your nose up, thinking about how Irene had obviously tried to play some kind of game with Sherlock. You'd never met her, yet already hated her. It was obvious this phone of hers had a lot more important secrets if she went to such great lengths to keep it safe.

"I couldn't help but notice Sherlock's coat was missing..." You looked up at John, Sherlock never went anywhere without his coat, and he would never leave it behind.

"He gave it to Irene to cover up." John cleared his throat awkwardly, gazing at anywhere but you.

"He what?" You asked in utter disbelief. You threw yourself down into Sherlock's chair, awaiting John's answer as you tightened your jaw.

"And you say you don't like him." John teased, grinning at you. You rolled your eyes at him before telling him to buzz off, you were just making an observation. After that, you gave up questioning John and decided you'd talk to Sherlock later, once he recovered.

Later in the afternoon, you were looking into this Irene woman when you heard panicked gasping and tumbling coming from Sherlock's room. You looked up from Sherlock's computer at John, and closed it before hurrying towards Sherlock's room.

You creaked open the door, seeing Sherlock's face pressed against the floorboards of his room, gazing under his bed. He stumbled to his feet, frantically looking around the room.

"Whoa, there Sherlock." You hummed, carefully placing your hands on his shoulders to steer him back into bed.

"Where... I don't...the women" Sherlock stuttered nonsense still looking around the room. You sighed, pushing him face first onto the bed, where he laid flat, not protesting. He groaned, flopping over to gaze at you. You were about to leave him be, when he scrambled towards you, latching onto your wrist. You turned towards him, your mouth parting slightly as his eyes looked pleading and sad.

"Sherlock, you're still on whatever drugs that women put in your system, you need rest. Get in bed." His eyes didn't leave yours and his lips went out in a pout, you had never seen him like this before. It was almost amusing.

"Stay with meeeeeeee." He groaned, pulling on your arm. You stood still as he yanked on your arm. "Y/n..." He tugged harder and you pulled your hands from his grip making him frown.

"Back in bed. You'll feel better in the morning." You pushed him back into his bed, and he sighed, gripping your hand to push it against his burning face. He was warm, no, hot. "What did this chick drug you with? God Sherlock, you're burning up! I'll be back." His hand loosened around yours as you left his room to retrieve a flannel soaked in cool water. You came back, sitting next to his bed. You pressed the cool cloth against his face and he moaned, letting his eyes flutter closed.

You frowned, a pressure growing in your chest as you thought nasty thoughts about Irene. You mess with Sherlock, you mess with me. You thought, grinding your teeth together. You scanned Sherlock's now relaxed face as you dabbed the flannel across it. You suddenly noticed a faded red lipstick mark on the corner of Sherlock's lip. You scowled, immediately rubbing it off with the flannel.

You gazed around the room, your eyes catching on Sherlock's window, where it was parted the slightest bit. You stood, waking over to shove it closed and lock it. As you turned back around you saw Sherlock's jacket hanging on the back of his door. You scoffed, leaving Sherlock alone in his room and you shut the door a lot harder than you intended, no doubt waking him back up.

As you entered the living room, John gazed at you with raised eyebrows, silently asking you what was wrong.

"I'm going back to my flat. I'm feeling much better and I don't need you or Sherlock's assistance anymore." You said a bit harshly. John looked at you, slightly shocked at your sudden change in mood before he nodded, not protesting. You gathered some of your things before you trudged down to your flat, welcoming it's lonely atmosphere.