The Exception (sherlock x reader)

Chapter 6: The Truth of the Past

"I don't think I've properly introduced my self," said Lestrade, "I'm Greg Lestrade."

"(Y/f/n) (y/l/n), pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasures all mine, so are you a friend of Sherlocks?"

"I guess you could say that." You turned your attention back to Sherlock who had gotten no where. The pink phone rang, and Sherlock answered it. "It's a fake. The paintings a fake that's why they were killed." Silence. "Oh come on proving it is just a detail, but I've solved it." Still nothing. "Ok, fine just give me time." Then a voice spoke, a child's voice.

"Ten," they were counting down. You ran your hand through your hair. This man is sick taking a kid. There was momentary confusion but everyone realized what was going on a moment later. "Nine," the voice was shaky he was scared. You couldn't blame this would scare him for life. Sherlock frantically went over the painting looking for what would prove that it was a fake. His eyes drank in every detail, but not with finesse there was an urgency, he wasn't dancing he searching frantically tearing it apart to find something. "Eight... Seven... Six.."

"That's it!" Sherlock shouted and began typing something into his phone.

"Five,"

"What?"

"Four,"

"You two heard it at the planetarium too. Oh, Brilliant!

"Three,"

"SHERLOCK," you and Lestrade shouted. He grabbed the phone from John.

"The Vanburan Supernova." Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Please is any one there?" Sherlock did it. You let out a breathe you didn't realize you were holding. John chewed Sherlock out a bit for not stopping the clock as soon as he knew, but he was glad Sherlock solved it. When you got back to there flat John took a look at your head. There was long gash across your hairline. Wasn't bleeding too bad thankfully.

"Yup you've got a concussion," stated John as he began to put a bandage over it.

"I knew we shouldn't have let you come," mumbled Sherlock under his breathe. He was sitting in his chair staring at you.

"What?" You couldn't believe he said that.

"You got hurt you shouldn't have come."

"So what I got a minor concussion that doesn't mean I should have stayed back." John eyed the two of you for a moment before he decided it'd be best not to intervene.

"What if it wasn't minor. He's an assassin he could've killed you."

"I can hold my own."

"Obviously not." This got under your skin. Who was he to say that you couldn't protect yourself. You had enough of that, and decided to leave. You stood up and took a step forward before you stumbled.

"Woah, you need to lie down. You can crash here for the night it's late, and we don't want you to make the concussion worse," John said as he helped you back on to the couch. You were angry, and didn't want to be in the same place as Sherlock, but you didn't really have a choice.you laid down, and John put a blanket over you. You thanked him, and he went to bed. Sherlock stayed up for a little while longer staring out the window into the night. You soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep while watching the detective who had been so rude to you moments before.

The next morning you woke to voices coming the kitchen. There were two, both male, one lower than the other. You heard your name mentioned.

"Do you really believe those things you said about (y/n)?"