Mycroft dies young of a heart attack from a poor diet and horrid stress-management skills. Sherlock somehow fools his mind into thinking it was murder, unable to process how his big brother could ever die from something so natural and common. John eventually convinces his of the truth and watches over Sherlock as he mourns for his brother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
John asked Sherlock where he got the reflective yellow police coat he almost wore to Irene's. Turns out he pickpockets Donovan when she's annoying too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sherlock owns 35 laptops, mostly because Mycroft keeps sending him one each holiday.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sherlock and John fight a lot, but since Sherlock doesn't know when he pushes John too far, every once and while when they are yelling Sherlock would look at John and said
"Say it."
"I love you." John said. And they would keep on yelling at each other.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sherlock was crying on the rooftop it was half because of fear and half because he felt guilty for what he was about to put John through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
John is the Will Turner to Sherlock's Jack Sparrow: Loyal until the end and brave as hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lestrade's secretly in love with Molly, and has been for a while now, but he knows that she'll never see his feelings because she loves Sherlock.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Please, Sherlock?" John asked.
"Can't Mary look after her?" Sherlock asked.
"You know she's at work. I have to get baby formula. Just for half an hour." With a sigh, Sherlock accepted the brown haired six month old from John, who patted him gratefully on the back before rushing out of the flat. Sherlock held Abigail out at arms' length, and she stared at him with John's brown eyes.
They were drooping. He gingerly tucker her into his chest. Her downy scalp brushed his chin. She was so small he could probably hold her in one hand.
How odd babies were, he found himself thinking. Tiny fingers curled around his collar, hummingbird heartbeats. All noise and messiness.
Sherlock wondered at how this baby would ever become a person, one who could make deductions or study advanced chemistry.
Abigail sighed in her sleep. Sherlock slowly lifted a hand and rested it on her tiny back, patting it gently. He hummed quietly, deep in his throat. The fingers relaxed on his now wrinkled collar. Sherlock smiled.
YOU ARE READING
Random Sherlock Oneshots
Fanfiction"I know this is a bit stupid. But..... Happy Birthday Sherlock........... I know this was a waste of time...... Why would I say happy birthday to a grave?" -John Hamish Watson
