Benedict Cumberbatch Imagines

Dog Bites (Sherlock)

You had been out late in the evening picking up some groceries you needed for tonight's dinner. The boys had finished a case and you told Sherlock to invite John and Mary over for dinner. Mary was 7 months pregnant and you knew she was not going to want to cook so you decided to have a little family dinner. The Watson's were as much your family as they were Sherlocks, even though none of you shared blood. Except Sherlock and Mycroft who you insisted he invite. Sherlock was on the phone with Mycroft as you were leaving. You smacked him on the shoulder and told him to invite the older Holmes brother over for dinner. Sherlock rolled his eyes then invited him then nodded to you which meant he would probably be joining you. You liked Mycroft, he was always sweet to you and you both got along much to Sherlocks dismay.

You went to the corner store to pick up some milk, eggs and bread crumbs. You decided to make chicken parm for dinner. It was easy enough and the boys favorite. You remembered back when you and Sherlock were dating before he faked his death, you would always make it for them after they had a bad day. It had become sort of a comfort meal for them but it was also a meal they would happily eat even for celebrations like tonight.

Sherlock didn't like you being out this late by yourself. Even though it wasn't dark yet he knew it would be by the time you got out of the store. Always the protective boyfriend. He was always finding new things to give you for protection. He's given you pepper spray, tasers, pocket knives. He even tried to give you a gun at one point but you refused that one. You had the pepper spray with you today since it was just going to be a quick 20 minute trip to the corner store. You weren't even planning on bringing it with you but as you grabbed your purse to leave Sherlock walked up from behind you and slipped it into your bag as you watched him. He insisted you take it for your own safety. You rolled your eyes but agreed so you didn't get into an argument.

You were walking through the store getting everything you needed to finish making dinner. You knew this store like the back of your hand because if you wanted to go shopping with Sherlock this is the only place you could go to since this is the only store he hasn't been banned from. Everytime the two of you would come here to shop you told him he had to be on his best behavior because if you had to go shopping by yourself from now on because he got banned from this place you'd be livid. You also told him he might starve because you wouldn't buy any groceries for him since he wants to act like a child.

You had everything you needed and was now waiting in line at the check out. There were a few more people here then there normally were but they were all regulars at the store so you exchanged hellos and they all asked you about the famous detective.

"Exhaustingly energetic and hungry as always. So I should get home and start cooking. We also have company tonight. They just solved a big case and before you ask no I have no idea what it was about." You chuckled as you chatted with Margaret the cashier.

"Well then we better not keep him waiting. Be careful going home, several people have spotted a stray dog running around. From what everyone says it's not diseased or anything, just scared and a little aggressive." Margaret warned as she finished bagging your things.

"Well most scared dogs are aggressive, it's their defense mechanism." You explained. "I'll be careful, have a nice night Margaret." You assured her as you waved goodbye.

You were about five minutes walking from the flat when you heard whimpers coming from the alley. Your mind thought back to what Margaret said about the stray dog. You decided to take a look even though you knew you shouldn't have. You walked into the alley and found the dog behind some garbage cans whining. You got closer to check him for injuries, kneeling down in front of him you saw no signs of injuries. You reached your hand out for him to smell you but he growled and bit your wrist. You yelped and pulled your hand away causing the pup to whimper at the loud noise. Poor thing was just scared, you tried once more with the other hand and the pup nuzzled into your hand.

You couldn't leave him here, you just couldn't. He was a German shepherd, no more than 6 months old, if that old. You looked up at the sky, it was supposed to rain today. It's done a good job at holding off but the clouds in the sky told you that your luck was just about to run out. You couldn't leave the pup out here. Given that the dog was by no means small. It was at least 25 pounds and the pup was very underweight. You had a bag full of groceries and a bloodied wrist, how were you going to get the pup home? You decided to scoop it up in your jacket like a mother kangaroo would carry their baby. The jacket took most of the weight off your hand so it was easier to carry the pup. You supported the puppy from the bottom, his head was resting on your shoulder like a baby.

"Sherlock is going to kill me." You muttered to yourself as you continued to walk home.

When you reached the flat your wrist was killing you. Blood was soaking through your tan jacket making it very noticeable that you were hurt. Quickly running up the stairs you knocked on the door with the hand holding the groceries since you couldn't get to your keys. When the door opened it was Mycroft who immediately saw the blood.

"Good God Y/N what happened why are you bleeding?!" He asked as he pulled you inside and took the groceries from you. Sherlock ran over when he heard you were hurt but his eyes landed on the dog first.

"What is that?" Sherlock asked.

"It's a long story." You waved him off, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a wet rag to clean the wound. Of course he got John to come check you over. Mary followed him and took the puppy from you with a smile when she saw you struggling to hold him and the rag. The pup whined at the loss of you but Mary hushed him like she would a child and took him into the living room. You took your jacket off and John sat next to you at the table, taking the rag from you and inspecting the wound.

"How's it look? Do you think it's infected, do you think the dog has rabies?" Sherlock rambled.

"No Sherlock. It's fine, it's just a dog bite. It doesn't need stitches but it is deeper than I would like. We'll put some gauze on it then wrap it. Once it's stopped bleeding fully we'll put some liquid bandaid on it to seal it." John explained.

"Why on Earth would you bring home a dog that bit you? Where did you even find it?" Mycroft asked.

"I was warned before I left the store that there was a dog roaming around." You began but was quickly interrupted.

"Did you seriously go looking for it?" Sherlock sighed in disbelief.

"No but I heard a whimper from the alley and I decided to check it out. Poor thing was laying behind some trash bins. I couldn't leave him there. Look, it's raining." You pointed to the window where the rain had started to come down. John finished wrapping your hand and you went into the living room with Mary and the pup. The boys all followed you.

"So you decided to bring him here? He bit you." Sherlock huffed.

"I know but it was my fault. I reached for him. He's just a scared little guy. Look at him, he's harmless, he can't be more than a few months old." You held the puppy up to Sherlocks gaze.

"No." Sherlock said sternly.

"No, what?" You asked innocently.

"We are not keeping it." He clarified.

"Oh please Sherlock. He's a good boy I promise. You know I'll take care of him. I'm good with animals."

"You killed our fish." He stated.

"That wasn't my fault I followed the instructions it's not my fault it still died. Dogs are different, I grew up with dogs. Please I know you love dogs, you always tell me that you begged your father for one. This is our chance to have one of our own. Please." You begged.

"I don't know if this is a good idea."

"You can train him to go on cases with you." You persuaded. "He does look to be a German Shepherd. He could be like our little baby." You held the dog up to Sherlock's face where he licked his cheek. You heard him huff meaning he was giving up.

"Fine, but I am not cleaning up his.. Bodily functions." He conceded.