No Shit, Sherlock

Can We Stay Like This?

I make my way over to Sherlock's apartment, because I'm a woman of my word. Last night I could hardly get any sleep, I kept thinking about the Marcus situation. As well as why Sherlock was so upset about the woman named Martha. Hopefully, he's figured it out and is willing to share the information.

"Good morning, (Y/n)," says Watson.

"Good morning, is Sherlock here?"

He opens the door wider, allowing me to enter the apartment. My eyes scan the room before focusing on the sleeping man on the couch.

"Of course," I mutter to myself.

Watson walks over to Sherlock's desk, "He stayed up all night searching for the paperwork on a certain case."

"Mr. Holmes," I say loudly.

He slowly sits up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Watson stands next to me, a smirk on his face.

"Busted," says Watson.

Sherlock sighs, "I thought I told you to wake me up before letting her in."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Watson grabs a coat and smiles, "I'l see you two later."

He leaves and I turn back to Sherlock. "Did you figure it out?"

Sherlock walks over to his desk and sits down. I follow him and stand beside him, leaning over to examine the papers in front of him. I accidentally bump into him, and he leans away.

"There was a case I worked on last year, a woman had asked me to diagnose her son. She was terrified of him, but I was busy at the moment. Two weeks later the son killed her."

"And I'm guessing her name was Martha?" I question.

He nods, "The son's name was Marcus."

I begin to pace, "Marcus must've blamed you for him killing his mother."

Sherlock nods, a sad look in his eyes.

"It's not your fault."

He shakes his head, "I should've listened to her, I could've had him put in an asylum."

"Sherlock, there was no way of knowing what he would do. Besides, if you would've put him in an asylum who's to say that he wouldn't break out and kill you?"

"Then at least you wouldn't have been kidnapped!" he snaps.

I go to say something but he interrupts me.

"You can say that you're over it but you're not! I see the fear in your eyes every time a man passes you on the street!"

He's walking towards me now, but I back away as he continues yelling.

"If I would've locked him up back then he wouldn't have ever seen you!"

My back hits the wall and Sherlock finally stops. I try to hide my shaking hands and panicked breathing, but he notices and sighs.

"He hurt you because of me, and I'll never forgive myself for that."

We stand in front of each other, our eyes locked in an intense gaze. I push myself off the wall and slowly walk up to him. He watches me cautiously and I slowly wrap my arms around him.

He hugs me back and I let out a sigh, "It's not your fault."

I pull away from him and sit on the couch, he sits next to me and we both sit in silence for a few minutes.

"You can't control everything, Sherlock. Sometimes bad things happen, but that doesn't mean it's your fault."

I look over to see that he's already looking at me, my eyes quickly dart away from his. Why must he make me so nervous?

His arm wraps around my shoulders and slowly pulls me closer to him. My head rests on his chest, and my heart races wildly. I can feel my face burning, but hope he doesn't notice.

"Can we stay like this for a moment?" he asks quietly.

I wanna scream, smash my head against a wall, rip my heart out, and poison the butterflies that are fluttering around in my stomach.

But I nod in response, afraid that if I speak I might expose my feelings. Because in this moment I feel safe and completely at peace, which is something I've never felt before.

I close my eyes and focus on the sound of his heart beat, but I can't help but notice that his heart is racing too.