His Dream (Sherlock x reader)

Blind Banker 2

The shopping didn't take long, I only needed a few things and the shop wasn't very far away; just about a block or two away from the flat. As we walked back, John told me everything that happened at Baker Street. All the crimes they solved and the ones that Sherlock couldn't.

Reaching our destination at Baker Street, I open the door for John to get through. As he ascends to his flat, I open the door to mine. The place looked like one of those show homes, that's never been touched; considering I've been for a couple weeks. 

I place the bags on the kitchen island and walk over to my record player, turning it on and up the volume. 

Whos watching?

Tell me, whos watching?

Whos watching me?

Music filled the flat with melody of the song as I walked back to the island and begin to open the bags filled with food. Placing the cereals in the cupboard and the milk in the fridge.

I'm just an average man with an average life

I work from nine to five, hey, hell, I pay the price

 Mumbling the lyrics of the song, I hear my bedroom window open.

All I want is to be left alone in my average home

 Lifting my head up, on alert. High alert.

But why do I always feel like I'm in the Twilight zone and?

I grab my gun from underneath the table and slowly walk to the stereo, turning the music louder; now making my way to my bedroom.  

I always feel like somebody's watching me

And I have no privacy (ooh ooh)

Quiet steps now. Nothing too loud.

I always feel like somebody's watching me

Tell me is it just a dream?

As I reach the door, the handle turns by itself. The corner of my mouth lifted a bit, oh now I'm gonna get this fucker.

Just about as I grab from the handle, I heard hard  knocks at my door, making me jump and turn to the front door.

Knock

Knock

Knock

I quickly turn back to my bedroom door, swinging it open. Finding nothing

Absolutely nothing. The window was closed, the bed was made. What the hell? I never make my bed. And then there it was.

There was a photo of me and my family. My entire family. Buts their faces ,except mine, were scratched out with 'x's over them. That wasn't there before, I thought. With a note beside it, 'you can't escape from what you were born into, peanut. Its time to come home.'

Oh shit

Again, I heard more knocks but they were more aggressive now.

Knock knock

Knock knock

Knock knock

Knock knock

"Jesus Christ Holmes", I mutter as I close my door and place my gun back under the table. Walking towards the door, I turn off the stereo.

I always feel like somebodys watchi-