Pin Drop (Sherlock x Reader)

Them

We sat just like that. Together, holding each other tightly. All sharing our grief. Our love for those whom were still missing. When I went missing they were with my parents and one day they weren't. They thought it their fault but it wasn't. They wouldn't have been able to stop Jim even if they wanted to.

Mrs. Hudson came in a few minutes later with a tray of tea and biscuits. They both took cups and thanked her before handing me one and giving the rest to everyone in the room. For the most part everyone remained silent until Sherlock started asking my parents questions. We all moved to the couch where I was carried to by my father.

"How did Jim get them?" It was blunt and uncalled for. I shot Sherlock the finger before taking another sip of my tea and getting a slap on the hand from my mother. I laughed into my tea and my father laughed into his. They were fans of Sherlock to say the least.

I think my father thought it was funny how at home I felt here. With them and Sherlock, John, Mary and Mrs. Hudson. He was definitely fanboying inside at the moment. He was always good at keeping a cold demeaner so it was no problem for him to be sitting in this room.

My mother on the other hand was somewhat disheveled at the people in the room. Her demeaner was very struggled. She tried to keep a brave face but I knew she was breaking at the thought of loosing them.

      "Sherlock. It isn't their fault. They wouldn't have been able to stop Jim even if they tried. You know that as well as I." I put my cup down on the table in front of me.

"They we're still there." I stood up and gasped in pain. He was crossing a line. A line that should not be crossed.

"Shut up Sherlock." I warned. The pain in my side being the only thing still keeping me from backing down. He pressed further.

"They could have done something! Jim kept you down there for years and they did nothing!" Sherlock was angry. I had never seen him like this.

My mother began to speak. I held out a hand to tell her to stop and she did immediately. "You're crossing a line Sherlly." I growled. John was slowly getting to his feet to remove Sherlock from the room.

"Sherlock you are acting like a child." Mary's voice broke through our tense silence. She looked bored at at his outburst and was obviously on my side.

       "John." Sherlock looked to his best friend who held his hands up in surrender.

       Sherlock sat back down in his chair and flung his hands. He refused to look at me or my parents at this point. I turned to quickly and gasped in pain falling to my knees.

       I ripped my stitches. I pressed my hand to my side and John was by my side in seconds. He told Mary to get the first aid from the kitchen and bring it to him. He lifted my shirt and told me to lie back. I did and grasped my mother's hand tightly in mine. She didn't look at the wound. My father was fascinated as he had fought in the war same as John.

      I felt boring and alcohol was applied to the wound. Then the needle and stitches were put in to close the wound back up. I pulled the alcohol from Mary's hand and took a long drink.

      "Remind me how I'm not dead." I laughed in pain and John laughed as well. Mary placed a hand on my forehead and told me.

      "You're strong love. Even though you might not see it at this moment you have people to live for." Her eyes wondered over to Sherlock and I gasped again in pain as John tugged on the string. I closed my eyes tightly.

When he was done my side was covered in dried blood and my mother helped me hobble to the bathroom to bathe. I looked to the floor then the place where the mirror used to be. I looked down at my hand and then shrugged at my mother questioning looks.

"Was that intent in the wall you?"

"Maybe..."

"Some things never change. Let me see your hand." I showed it to her and she sighed. It was almost fully healed now only a few cuts remained. Mostly scared from the past time I had punched things.

"I mean some things do." I chuckled.

"Yes. You are no longer on drugs all the time so I'm grateful for that." She chuckled and helped me strip off my clothes and slide into the now filling tub.

"Well I mean..." I laughed as she playfully slapped my shoulder. We shared a moment in which we just laughed.

"You better not be back on those devils." She said shooting a glare my way as she grabbed a cup from the counter behind her to wash my hair.

The water felt amazing on my face and back. Like I was washing days off dirt. I mean I kind of was. My mother rubbed shampoo into my hair and I sighed and closed my eyes at the feeling.

Last time she did something like this it was when I was sixteen. I had been at a party with people I thought were my friends and well you can put the lines together from there.

She rinsed out my hair and sighed lightly as she rubbed conditioner in next. We let it sit for a moment and I brought my knees to my chest.

"It's not your fault. Ignore him." I told her. She knew I was talking about the situation and Sherlock.

"It's alright honey. It is my fault but it's mostly Jim's for ruining it. He did. He is responsible for his actions. Your father and I came to that conclusion a long time ago. Before we knew it was him of course."

Her saying that made me think. What did she mean she came to terms with it before. Then she quickly added the before they knew it was Jim. We're they not telling me something or was I just being paranoid?