You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

A Scandal in Belgravia: Chapter 8

After you were about 5 drinks in, Lestrade cut you off, saying you'd had enough.

"Lestradeeeee, just one more?" You hiccuped, reaching a lazy hand towards him from the couch in an effort to convince him to let you have one more glass.

"No. You're already drunk." Lestrade told you as he gathered the drinks, just to make sure you wouldn't sneak more.

"I'm not drunk!" You exclaimed, sitting up. You leaned forward in your seat, squinting at everyone in the flat. "If I were drunk, then I wouldn't be able to tell you that Sherlock is about to emerge from his room distressed, but we won't say anything because we won't know why. Let me tell you why, Irene Adler is dead." You smirked, satisfied with yourself as you leaned back into the couch.

"Oh, no." John spoke, pushing himself from his chair as he stared wide eyed at you.

"Oh, yes! Now I don't have to deal with him always defending her. It's so annoying, you know! I got attacked by Moriarty and it was because I was close to Sherlock and all he cared about was her. 'Solving her', whatever." You found yourself spilling. One awkward pause later you again spoke. "I need more booze." You frowned and Lestrade raised his eyebrows as he silently handed your drink back.

You'd been right about Irene's death and Sherlock emerged from his room looking lost. Molly had left before that with Lestrade in hopes of tracking down Irene, when they got a hit Sherlock emerged. You said nothing, but slowly worked on finishing your drink. Sherlock gazed at you on his way out, stopping to take the drink away. He gave John a look, then left without a word. You frowned.

After Sherlock left, you grew bored. John, his girlfriend Janette, and Mrs. Hudson were not entertaining enough for you. In fact, they increased your bored-ness by worrying and searching the whole flat for drugs. You knew he would be fine so, you ended up on the couch, laying upside down. You let your hair dangle on the floor and had your feet propped up on the wall. You should drink more often if it was like this.

You giggled at John's serious face as he paced the flat with his phone in his hand after no sign of any drugs. You got into such a hard laughing fit you flipped over yourself and off of the couch. You landed face first on the floor and continued to laugh, not bothering to lift your face up.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock." You tsked, rolling over. "The sociopath has a problem!" You sang, tears coming to your eyes from the laughter.

"Y/n." John scolded you and you laughed harder.

"Irene is dead. Irene is dead. Poor little Sherlock is oh so sad! Oh how bad!" You sang a repeated song that you'd made up over and over until John yelled at you and you burst into another laughing fit. "Oh it's so silly! So, so silly! You don't get it!" You laughed.

"You're worrying me, Y/n." John said nervously, gazing down at you on the floor.

"Don't worry about me, answer your phone! " You told him as his phone started ringing. He answered, his face serious.

"No, did he take the cigarette?" John asked, scanning the flat. Mrs. Hudson slowly entered from the kitchen, a worried look on her face. "Shit. He's coming- 10 minutes." John told Mrs. Hudson.

"I didn't find anything in the bedroom." Mrs. Hudson told him. You laughed, knowing Sherlock wouldn't do drugs because of Irene... but maybe he would be sad.

"Looks like he's clean. We've checked all the usual places. Are you sure tonight is a danger night?" He looked down at you as he listened to Mycroft then shook his head. "I got plans... and Y/n is drunk."

"I'm not drunk!" You pouted pushing yourself unsteadily off the floor. You fell back into the couch laughing. "Woah."

"My-Mycroft!" John yelled grunting then shoving his phone down. He looked over to Jeanette with a grim face walking over to sit next to her on the opposite side of the couch. You studied him and laughed knowing what was about to go down.

Long story short, John ended up getting broken up with over Sherlock. Then, John made the mistake of telling Jeanette he'd walk her dog... which she didn't have because John's last girlfriend was the one with the dog. She'd marched out after that telling John not to call. You found that rather funny.

"Y/n, take a nap." John had angrily said, throwing a blanket in your face.

"Sorry, John. It's just, everything is so funny like this. I like it!" You laughed some more deciding you wanted to wander around the flat. You stumbled down the hall, gazing up at the walls. The lights looked all pretty and blurry. You opened a door seeing you'd entered Sherlock's room. You snorted in laughter, thinking about all the things you and Sherlock had fought about. You collapsed into his bed in laughter, a sleepy feeling settling in your skin. You yawned, pulling off your sweater and jeans. You climbed under the covers of Sherlock's bed before you quickly passed out.

You woke up when you felt the bed dipping in and you groaned, turning over to see Sherlock climbing into bed.

"Hey." You whispered a smile growing on your face, you felt warm and cozy. Not a thing seemed to bother you at the moment. You let your eyes fall closed as you were extremely tired. Sherlock didn't reply but wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I've been unfair to you. I know Irene meant something different to you." You came to your senses, knowing the mourning he must be holding inside, letting it all build up. He breathed deeply into your neck, pulling away to study you. You looked at him, eyes wide. He was acting weird... very weird.

"You need to take your medicine." He told you and you sighed in relief, knowing you'd just gotten him back. You'd come to a truce. He wasn't mad at you. You smirked in happiness as he pulled you closer, silently falling asleep.