The Art Of Deduction ➢ Sherlock x Reader

Sad Memories [20]

*F/I means first letter of your name!*

Sherlock POV

"Sherlock. Please open up.. You have been in bed for weeks. Everyone is worried. Jeez even Mycroft." John pleads still banging on the door impatiently.

I give him no reply and sink further into my blanket. I don't care. Part of me is gone. Why should I care, anyways?

"Sherlock I don't wanna do this. I'm going to break down the door. Mrs. Husdon's won't be pleased. Please open?"

"Fine." I groan loudly, shuffling towards the door, and unlock it. "But open it yourself." I say and walk back towards the bed.

"Sherlock! Look at you. What has become of the great Sherlock Holmes?" John exclaims angrily, and slaps me hard on my shoulder.

"Ow. John. I can't anymore. I am weak. I am mundane like everyone else." I whisper softly, and wipe off the tear that threaten to fall off onto my cheeks.

"She's gone. I'm sorry. I miss her too. She was like a sister to me. Don't think you were the only one that got attached. Even Mary misses her." John says softly and I began to sob uncontrollably and John hugs me tightly.

"It's okay, Sherlock. It's okay." John coaxes, patting my back like a mother would do with her child.

"I - I don't believe Y/N is gone. I can't. Not her. She's too smart for that. She... was like me. She has to be alive"

"I'm sorry." John sighs, and he hands me a bag of fish and chips to which I gladly accept. I haven't eaten in almost a week.

"Did you break your violin?!" John yelps in surprise, holding the broken instrument.

"'No, of course not. Y/N drew a heart on it that said 'S + F/I'...
That's just an extra one I had." I explain, with my mouth full of delicious food.

"Hmm I see. But there's a lot of broken things in the trash can..." John adds, with a puzzled look imprinted on his face.

"Your improving. Prying my trash. Investigating."  I chuckle slightly, and roll my eyes.

"Seriously?" John smiles, and jams his hands into his coat pocket.

"No. You always miss the most important factors, Hamish." I gibe playfully.

"Her things are still here." John remarks, a tinge of nostalgia drifts into his voice as he looks at Y/N's clothes, and dorky collectables.

"I cannot bare to touch it. Nevertheless, throw it away."

"Your wearing her shirt?" John questions, a pained look crosses his face. He misses her too.

I look down at the cerulean t-shirt that reads, "Trust Me I'm The Doctor."

A genuine smile spreads across my lips and I shake my head. "No. She forced me into watching peculiar shows with her and she bought it for me... For an expo."

"Mary wants you to come at the ultrasound with us. Today we see what gender the baby is. Do you want to come?" John asks happily.

"I suppose so." I smile wistfully.

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hope you enjoyed this fluffyish chapter. and if your not a whovian then oh well I recommend it😉

can you imagine Sherlock in Dr.who merch 😍