You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Lying Detective: The End

"You're okay?" John questioned, looking down at Sherlock. That was an absolute stupid question, but you understood what John was going for.

"No-no, of course I'm not okay. Malnourished, double kidney failure, and frankly I've been off my tits for weeks. What kind of a doctor are you?" Sherlock spoke, groaning as he settled back into the bed. "I got my confession, though, didn't I?"

You followed his gaze towards Smith, who yanked out of the officer's grip. "Huh! I don't recall making any confession!" Smith took a few steps towards you and Sherlock and John immediately stepped in front of you, holding a hand out towards him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." John spoke.

Smith stopped and looked at John with narrowed eyes. "What would I be confessing to?"

"You can listen to it later." You told him brightly, with a satisfied smirk.

"But there is no confession to listen to!" He stopped, giving a fake gasp as he held his hands towards his mouth. "Oh, Mr Holmes. I-I don't know if this is relevant, but we found three potential recording devices in the pockets of your coat. Um, all your possessions were searched. Sorry." He frowned, looking towards you. You gave Sherlock a look, almost bursting out in laughter.

"Must be something comforting about the number three. People always give up after three." Sherlock looked up towards Smith and Smith looked at Sherlock in horror. You just smirked, crossing your arms at him. Sherlock then looked to John.

"What? What is it? What?" He questioned. Both your looks panned towards the cane he'd left Sherlock and once John realized, he sighed, shooting an angry look towards Sherlock.

"You cock." He exclaimed, shaking his head.

"Yeah." Sherlock nodded. You began laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Utter, utter cock." John went on.

"Heard you the first time." Sherlock smiled up at you and you brushed his cheek softly, standing to fix his machines.

John made his way towards the chair, snatching up his cane. He looked over towards Sherlock, eyeing it. "So how-how does it open?"

"Screw the top." Sherlock told him. John listened to him, starting to unscrew the top. Smith looked at it, his face pale as he watched John pull the handle off of the cane. You could clearly see the small recording device sticking out, that was glowing red to show it was recording. John pulled it out and the light went out.

He looked over towards both of you, shaking his head.

"Two weeks ago?" He questioned.

"Three." You told him with a soft smile as you finished, fixing what Smith had done to Sherlock's medical equipment.

"I'm that predictable?" John asked.

"No." Sherlock told him with a grin of his own. "I'm just a cock."

***

Later that week, Sherlock was finally able to come back home to the flat just in time to celebrate his birthday. You had gone through the process of making sure absolutely everything to do with Smith was removed and cleaned out. And, of course, the kitchen was no longer a drug lab. Thanks to Mycroft and his minions.

You'd been at the hospital with Sherlock most of the time, so you hadn't yet had time to move your things back into 221B. So, you left John to babysit Sherlock while you went to pick up your things from your parents' house.

It didn't take you long to pack everything up, considering you'd pretty much had everything ready to go the moment you were able to move back to 221B.