Sherlock Imagines, Oneshots and Preferences

Promises

Trigger warning: mentions of self harm. It's mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, but Sherlock finds out the reader has been self-harming.

Request from KaitlynHarper234
Hope you're doing well 💕

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It's been six years since Sherlock had last seen you. He was overjoyed when he learnt you were back in London for the week and wanted to meet up.

That's how you found yourself in the pretty café in Notting Hill, checking your phone every other minute for a reply from Sherlock. The last "where are you?"  you'd sent stared back at you disappointingly. With a deep sigh, you flipped your phone around and decided to watch the people passing by the café doors instead.

You broke out of your reverie when someone suddenly plopped down on the seat opposite yours, and you looked up to see a panting, sweating Sherlock Holmes undoing the button on his blazer and sitting more comfortably before looking back up to meet your eyes.

You couldn't describe the happiness that flooded through your being at that moment. Sherlock's face lit up in a smile, a glowing smile that filled your soul. Did he have any idea just how happy he made you feel?

"So, how's life been treating you?" you smirked, fondly remembering all the front page headlines Sherlock's face was on just the last week.

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The sun was low and the sky shone pink when you were both back at Baker Street, still talking about old times. You'd just realised it was getting late and that you had to leave soon to get home on time. With a contented sigh, you pushed yourself off the red couch and smiled at your best friend.

"Well then, I guess we should start catching up more often-"

"-just like old times." Sherlock nodded, completing your sentence.

"Hmm. See ya around."

"Wait! (YN)."

You paused. The detective had reached out to hold your hand just as you turned away. The two of you stood there for a moment in silence, your entire mind focused on the feeling of Sherlock's hand on yours, as it slowly wrapped around your and his fingers intertwined with yours.

"Yeah?"

Sherlock didn't reply. He just looked up from your interlocked fingers to your wrists and back down. You watched his face intently, black curls framed by pink light from the curtains, wondering for a second if you should leave before the detective starts thinking too much.

"When- when did you start?"

"Start what?" Please, not this, Sherlock.

He didn't reply. He just rolled your sleeves up slowly, with a gentleness he'd rarely shown but was not new to you. Softly, he ran his fingers over the bandages and his breath hitched.

"It- it's been a few months," your voice broke, the thoughts you'd been having for the past few months hitting you in a sudden flood.

"Might I ask why?" His voice was low, so low you nearly didn't hear him.

"I-" you paused for a second, considering the question, turning it around in your mind, over and over again. "I don't know, Sherlock. It felt... It just felt."

Your eyes felt hot, flooding with tears that didn't fall and you tried meeting Sherlock's eyes to see that his eyes were full too.

He nodded, letting his tears roll down. "I should've known. I could've helped, (Y/N)."

You shook your head, that fake smile gracing your features again.

"I really could have, (Y/N)."

You shook your head, harder this time, the tears running down the sides of your face. "It's not about you, Sherlock."

"It is now. It is now, (Y/N). We're going to get through this together, okay?" His hands had moved up to your shoulders, giving you a gentle shake, before lifting your chin up to look into his eyes. "Yes?"

You nodded. It's gonna be fine. Sherlock said so.

You didn't expect him to pull you into a hug next. But it was the warmest, most loving one you'd felt in a while and you knew you'd give anything to feel it again. He pulled you in tighter, one hand running along the nape of your neck, comforting.

Your vision was blurry with tears, suddenly all you could feel was Sherlock. Just Sherlock. And you were content with that.

He slowly runs his fingers through your hair, gently, the motion calming you down soon.

"How did you know?" You mumbled, barely audible.

"Hmm?" Sherlock pulled away slightly and raised his eyebrows at you in confusion.

"Right now. How did you know?"

"Oh, (Y/N), I always know."

Of course he did.

He looked down, tracing his fingers over your bandaged wrist, before moving his hand up to intertwine your fingers together once more. He lifted your hand up and held it in front of your eyes. "Promise?"

You remembered the motion. You used to do that with Sherlock, back when he was in withdrawal. It's beautiful. It was meant to be a promise from both of you. A promise from you to seek help, whenever you wanted. Just a call away. And a promise from Sherlock to always be there for you.

You nodded, pulling your hands closer and placing a kiss on Sherlock's. "I promise." Firm. Definite. You were absolutely sure of this, just like you'd been sure of everything with him.

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Hey, just wanted everyone here to know: if you're going through anything tough, feel free to reach out if you need anyone to talk to. Stay safe and healthy, all of you 💕
You may not know it yet, or you may be doubting it, but you are loved.
Always.

I may be a nobody on here, but that promise is a promise to me too. I want all of you safe and healthy and happy. Please. ❤️