His Favorite Melody

The Big Bang

Three gunshots. That's what brought Melody out of her seat as she dropped the book she was reading and fled to Sherlock's flat. John came down and met her in front of the door, both of them practically broke the door down trying to get in.

Sherlock had a revolver pointed at the wall, causing Mel to look at him, wide-eyed. She looked at said wall to see that he’d drawn a smiley face on the wall, and it now had bullet holes for eyes and a mouth.

"What the hell are you doing?!" John fussed.

"Bored." Sherlock deadpanned.

Melody looked at the man with a blank expression. "I'm sorry, did you just say-"

"Bored. Bored. Bored." Sherlock interrupted, accentuating each word with another gunshot.

Melody flinched with each shot. Her hands gripped John's jacket tightly, and he knew she was fighting the urge to flee.

John gently pried Mel's hands off of his jacket, then stormed over and snatched the gun from Sherlock's hands. If looks could kill, Sherlock would have been dead many times over.

"I don’t know what’s got into the criminal classes. It’s a good job I’m not one of them." Sherlock said obliviously.

"So you take it out on the wall and scare poor Melody half to death?" John snapped.

"The wall had it coming." Sherlock said, before looking up to see that Melody was hovering nervously in the doorway. Her fingers were clawing into her arms, and she was biting her lip. "Melody?"

She looked up to see him extending his hand out to her. She quickly made her way over to him and took his hand. He squeezed it tightly and nod once. She knew he didn't mean to frighten her, he was just...well, bored.

Sherlock dragged Melody to sit on the couch and they listened to John talk as he plundered the kitchen.

"What about that Russian case?" He asked.

"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time." Sherlock dismissed.

"Shame. Anything in? I’m starving."

"I've not done the shopping in a bit. Sorry." Mel apologized.

John opened the fridge door, only to find the back of a bloodied head! His jaw dropped, and he stepped away. "A head. A severed head."

"Just tea for me, thanks." Sherlock quipped.

"I did tell you I haven't done the shopping in a while." Melody said with a shrug.

"There’s a head in the fridge!" John cried out.

"Yes." Sherlock agreed.

"A bloody head!"

"Had to put it somewhere. You don’t mind, do you? Got it from Bart’s morgue. I’m measuring the coagulation of saliva after death."

John simply gaped like a fish out of water.

Sherlock nod at the laptop as Melody got up, deciding to go to the kitchen downstairs to find John something acceptable to eat.

"See you’ve written up the Taxi Driver case." The detective mused.

Melody could hear them arguing as she went to her mother's flat and grabbed a few breakfast bars, then a container of leftover chicken dinner she had made the night before. She put it in a lunch bag, along with some crisps and a water for the next day.

"Oh, hello, love. Grabbing a late snack?" Mrs. Hudson asked her daughter.

"It's for John. I've not been to the shops in a while, so I figured I'd bring him some food for breakfast and lunches until I get the chance." Mel explained.

"Ah. Well, let me grab some biscuits and I'll come up with you!"

"Thanks, Mum."

As they made their way back up the stairs, they could hear the men arguing. As soon as they got to the door, it flung open and John almost collided with them.

"Oh, sorry, love." Mrs. Hudson apologized.

"Sorry." John apologized.

Mel held out the breakfast bar and lunch bag. "Here. Take these, you'll need something to eat. Be safe."

He thanked her quietly, and then he was gone. Mrs. Hudson looked at his retreating form and then over to Sherlock.

"You two had a little...spat?" She asked, putting the biscuits on the kitchen table.

Sherlock got up and stared moodily out of the window, watching John leave the house. "Look at that, Hudsons. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Isn’t it hateful?"

"I’m sure something’ll turn up, Sherlock." Melody assured him.

"A nice murder! That’ll cheer you up." Mrs. Hudson said brightly.

"Can’t come too soon." Sherlock said as Melody joined his side.

It was that moment that Mrs Hudson suddenly noticed the bullet-pocked plaster. "Oi! What have you done to my bloody wall!? I'm taking that out of your rent, young man! " she yelled, stomping down the stairs.

Smiling, Sherlock turned to Melody. Before he could say anything to her, an explosion from across the street rocked the flat. All the windows shattered, and Sherlock threw himself onto Melody, and they dove to the floor. The glass dug into her skin as they hit the ground, and she felt the air leave her lungs.

She and Sherlock looked at eachother, wide eyed. What on earth just happened?

"Are you alright?" He asked, scanning her face to see that she had a few small cuts on her forehead and cheek.

"I think. There's definitely some glass in my hands. Are you okay?" She panicked, searching his face for any injury.

"I'm fine. We need to get the glass out of your hands and the cuts on your face cleaned up."

Mel nod, her mind racing. He carefully helped her up and shook his chair to get the glass off. Mrs. Hudson came racing up the stairs just as Melody was sitting down.

"Oh, dear! Are you two alright?" She fussed over the younger pair.

"Mum! Are you okay?" Mel exclaimed.

"I'm alright, dear. Only a busted window downstairs and a bit of dust. Your face, dear. Let me get the med kit."

They watched as she raced down the stairs again. The sound of approaching sirens rang in their ears, alerting them that the first responders were approaching.

"I don't trust them to get the glass out of my hands without digging around and making it hurt more than necessary. Is there any way...?" Mel trailed off as Mrs. Hudson reentered the room with a large medical kit.

Sherlock nod in agreement at her request. "Of course. Mrs. Hudson, if you could get me a cloth and a bowl of warm water from the kitchen?" He asked, getting out a few sterile wipes for her face.

By the time he had her cleaned up and she cleaned the cuts on his arms and hands, the first responders had boarded up all of the blown windows and moved on to the flats across the street that had blown. The pair took a moment to process before Sherlock pulled her to the bedroom and they both got into his bed. He pulled her close, his arms around her like a shield from the outside world. In that room, in his arms, she was safe. And he decided in that moment, with Melody quickly falling asleep in his arms, that he would protect her from anything that came their way.