Lets Play A Game - Sherlock Fanfiction [Sequel to IBIY]

Chapter forty eight - Surprises.

Boxing day was quiet, peaceful. I woke up in Sherlock's room early in the morning. He wasn't next to me, but instead I heard the steady rhythm of a violin coming from the living room. I sat up and covered my body with the sheets on the bed, and smiled. I stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the feeling. I had forgot everything bad that happened recently, and tried to stay focused on the good before it was taken away again.

I slowly swung my feet out of bed, reaching down to pick up the first piece of clothing I could find. I easily put it over my head, noticing it was Sherlock's shirt, but I didn't care. We were alone anyway, so I just quickly slipped on my black underwear and walked out of the bedroom, the cold, bitter air hitting me harshly as I hurried into my room and picked up my throw-over fleece I received for Christmas, wrapping it around my body like a cocoon to protect me from dangerous air.

It hadn't snowed this Christmas but the weather was cold enough to make me get goosebumps and afraid to let my bare feet touch the cold floor in our flat. I snuggle up on Johns old armchair, the comfortable, warm fleece wrapped around my cold body while I held a mug of hot cocoa with whipped cream. I brought my feet up onto the chair, my knees being exposed to the cold air and the fleece falling loosely just above my elbows- but my shoulder's weren't as cold as Sherlock's white shirt kept them warm. I watched him with interest as he played his violin, how he loved simple pleasures such as closing his eyes and listening to the music he created from the violin he played. He was dressed in his normal lazy attire, with a new, navy coloured dressing gown worn as he stood there with his chin on the violin. He stopped playing it, slowly opening his eyes and turning around to glance at me. He eyed my attire before a small smile tugged on his lips.

"Never thought my shirt would actually suit you."

"Never thought I would actually be wearing your shirt." I replied, my hands warm from the heat of the mug I was holding. 

He just smiles, looking down bashfully for a moment, thinking about something or what he should say next. I never thought I would see him like this- nervous. Heck, I've seen a lot of things I didn't think I'd see these past couple of days. 

"How was your Christmas?" He finally asked, looking up to meet my eyes. I smile and bite my bottom lip, a blush creeping onto my cheeks as I looked down at my hot chocolate.

"It was alright, yeah."

"Just... alright?"

I smirked, "It was remarkable, then."

He nodded his head slightly, pleased with my answer, "That's good."

I take a sip of my hot chocolate, still staring into his eyes, and he turns around to face out the window again, lifting his violin up and started to play it again. I smiled, watching him as he continued to play the piece of music he was previously playing. I think he wrote this one himself, and it was amazing. Beautiful, even.

Suddenly, he gets distracted and plays a rough note, halting as he stared out the window in disbelief. I furrow my brows, wondering why he stopped playing the beautiful instrument, "...Sherlock?"

He forcefully puts his violin back on the table, turning around and storming off to the old, decrepit door, and forcefully swings it open. I put my mug of hot cocoa to the side and stand up with confusion, ignoring the bleak, chilly air and followed after him down the stairs to make sure he was okay, "Seriously, you're starting to worry me- bloody hell." I curse as he opens the door, the super freezing air hitting my flesh. I shiver, watching as he walks outside and peek my head around the door, not really wanting to go any further outside in case anyone saw my exposed legs.

He turns left, vigorously grabbing someone and chucking them against the window of Speedy's cafe. I gasp in shock of his actions and step out anyway, looking at the man he had against the wall. He had a black coat on, and a grey hood fell off his head, showing his blondish-brown hair and his face that showed an equal amount of shock as mine. Sherlock pinned him against the window with the collars of his coat, and his face was filled with rage and disbelief as he stared at this man, whom I've never saw before.

"How?" Sherlock spat, looking at the man as if the man had just killed someone he cared about. The man struggles to speak at first, not knowing what to say, but as he opens his mouth to finally say something he was cut off by another low voice behind them.

"Put him down, Sherlock." Mycroft exhaled, his face bored and weary as he watched the events in front of him. Sherlock didn't look around to see him, he just continued to pin this poor man against the wall. I stood there, my mouth half open with shock. What the hell was going on?!

Sherlock groans, hating the fact that he had to let him go. He man sighs with relief, panting for breath as he tries to calm his racing heart. However, his mouth curls up into a smile, and he lets out a shaky chuckle, "...Is this how you greet all your friends?"

"We're not friends."

"Oh no, of course not," The man shakes his head, pulling a face. Mycroft steps forward, ready to get the two boys and to bring them into mine and Sherlock's appartment so they didn't make a scene. The man places a re-assuring hand on Sherlock's shoulder, smiling slightly, "we're brothers."