The Exception (sherlock x reader)

Chapter 6: The Truth of the Past

You woke up what felt like hours later. You were on the couch with a worried Sherlock, and John leaning over you.

"Thank go your ok," said John "I told you you shouldn't read."

"It wasn't just the concussion. Was it (y/n)." Sherlock said staring at you. You felt your hands trembling at your side,but Sherlocks eyes stayed trained on yours. Finally you shook your head.

"How long was I out?" You asked hoping to change the subject.

"About a minute, but if it wasn't just the concussion what was it?" John asked confused.

"Fear," Sherlock whispered. "The fear of a name."

"This is ridiculous Sherlock we should take her to a hospital."

"But it isn't just the fear of the name," Sherlock continued ignoring John. "But the fear of the owner." You felt your whole body begin to shake as the memories of the months before you came to London. "(Y/n)," Sherlock said in a soft quiet voice that helped calm you down. "How do you know Moriarty?" His eyes didn't leave yours for a second as you stopped shaking, and sat up. You looked away, and stared at your hands unable to find your voice.

"(Y/n), do you know Moriarty" John asked with worry lacing his words.

"You didn't come here originally to study abroad," Sherlock began as he started to fit the pieces together." You didn't start school until two months after you got here. You were hiding from someone. You came here running from someone. You had an abusive ex that you were running from, didn't you." His voice stayed calm, and soft. You nodded he was right. "Was that man Moriarty?" Slowly you nodded your head in response. Your eyes were focused on your hands but you could practically hear johns jaw drop to the floor from shock.

"Are-are you sure he's the same man? It could be a coincidence-"

"It's the same man. My right hand coat pocket." You said, and Sherlock got up and grabbed your coat. Out of the pocket he pulled out the envelope. He brought it over to where we're sitting and kneeled down in front of you next to John. He opened it and removed the three photos.

"Oh my god," John gasped as he looked at the photos. Sherlock was holding the one from when the two of you were together.you reached out and turned over the photo to show him the message. His face remained emotionless.

"How did you end up with this psychopath?" John asked. You explained to them what had happened two months before you came to London.

"I was at the public library reading a book when he came up to me. He said that the book I was reading was one of his favorites. We talked for a bit, and he invited me on a date. He was so charming and kind I never would have guessed how sadistic he really was." You felt your hands begin to tremble. As you remembered being with him. "We started dating soon after, and everything was fine until we got in a fight. It was just a small fight, but he's short tempered, and-and he started yelling at me about things that don't even relate to the the argument."

*Flash back*
"You're an ungrateful little-"

"Out," you said to the tall man who was standing in your living room who for the past five minutes had been yelling at you.

"What did you say." He growled his brown eyes glowing with anger.

"I said, out." You raised your voice slightly hoping this time he would leave. He began walking towards you, but you didn't back down. You immediately thought where to run to if it came to that. The apartment was small. Two rooms one bath. He was in the way of the door, so that was out. The bathroom! There's a window big enough for you to crawl through. You could the door and buy yourself time to get away. He was now standing less than a foot from you.

"You don't tell me what to do." He said his voice was cold, and sharp like knives of ice threatening to cut into you. You fought the urge to back away into the wall.

"My house, my rules, and I told you to get out so-" before you could finish he slapped you hard across the face. You could feel the sting of his hand, and tears beginning to form. You stumbled back a bit from shock. He grabbed your shoulders, and shoved you against the wall banging your head. You were shocked that he was this strong. He didn't have huge biceps or a well defined six pack. He had a more slender build. Making him come across as non threatening. He leaned down toward you so your faces were inches apart.

"I'll ask you again," he snarled. "What did you say to me?"

"I said to get the hell-" he hit you again.

"What did you say!?" Your only was response was spitting in his face. In the long run this probably wasn't a good idea. He grabbed you by the neck blocking your air supply. You struggled against him but he was too strong. "I'll ask you again," he whispered. " What did you say?" He real eased you and you fell to the ground gasping for air.

"Leave me alone you psycho." You gasped out. He bent down and whispered in your ear, "Wrong answer." He grabbed a handful of your hair and hit your head against the wall. You saw spots before eyes, and you tried to get out of his grip by kicking out, but it was no use. "Now," he said in a calm voice. "If you tell anyone about this I will kill you." You looked into his eyes as he said that, and saw no humanity in them. With that he got up, and walked out the door. Once he was gone you broke down from both terror and pain.
*end of flash back*

"It was hell being with him." You said, and realized that there were tears flowing down your cheeks.

"You never told?" Asked John.

"After a month it got to the point where he would hit me when he was bored, like it was a sick form of entertainment for him, and I thought that I would rather have him kill me then go on with it so I told a friend. She didn't come to class the rest of the week after I told her, and later that week the found her body in the river."

"Oh my god," John said for the thousandth time that night. "How did you get away?"

" I ran once, skipped town, but he found me, and it just made things worse. I decided the only way out was to leave the country. I bought a one way ticket to London while he was at work, and was gone before he got home. I told everyone I knew I got a last minute offer to study abroad in Australia. Once in London I got a job and stayed off the radar for a few months enrolled in school, got my citizenship, and I haven't heard from him since." You wiped away the tears on your face with your trembling hands. And looked up for the first time. John looked shocked, and concerned. Sherlock looked angry. His jaw was clenched as well as his fists his eyes were no longer on you, but focused on the floor.

"Get some rest (y/n)," John said after a long silence. "You should stay here with us where it's safer until we know he won't come after you." You nodded, and laid back down on the couch. Sherlock draped a blanket over you, and they both wished you a good night. Yours were heavy, and soon you drifted off to sleep again.

Sherlocks point of view
Watched as (y/n) fell asleep. She wasn't peaceful though. Her whole body was tense. I felt a pang in my heart at the sight of her like this. I never would've deduced this. The apartment was quiet as John had gone to sleep too. I sat there staring out the window for a moment. Silently vowing that I would take Moriarty down if it was the last thing I do. I closed my eyes, and sighed how could I have grown so fond of (y/n) so fast? I looked back over to her. Even with her (h/l) (h/c) in tangles she looked flawless. I got up, and lifted her off the couch and brought her to my bed where she would more comfortable. I tucked her in before going back out to the living room. I got onto the laptop, and left Moriarty a message.

Found the Bruce Parkington Plans. Please collect. Midnight at the pool.