The Crimson Curator | (Sherlock x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 5 - What's Wrong?

---
TW: Mentions of domestic violence.
---

Back at 221B, Sherlock had drowned out the dronings of John and Lestrade's predictions and useless insights that he had already so obviously seen. But he was stuck. Stuck on the watch. It had clearly been on the guard's wrist either before or after he was killed, then promptly removed when the body was discarded. 

So clearly, there's some level of importance in relation to it.

But Sherlock also couldn't help but notice (Y/n).

The way she was sitting, quietly on the couch, mindlessly reading and occasionally correcting either John or Lestrade. But she would also periodically check her phone, a disappointed look crossing her face once she checked the screen and placed it back down.

She's waiting for someone to contact her.

Couldn't be a lover. She's already dismissed that fact. Most likely not her mother, but could be her father. And someone who has an actual older brother would most likely not seek the comfort of a close friend such as John in that role. What about a sis-

"Sherlock."

He snapped his head towards the direction of the kitchen, where John and Lestrade had been pacing and talking. John, during sometime Sherlock had zoned out, had gone to make a tea for everyone, and was now currently holding out a cup for the detective. He silently moved to take it, nodding as a thanks, then moved towards the couch ever so cautiously, not wanting to seem overly keen, but also not wanting to ignore the possibility of a problem.

"What's wrong?"

He took a seat next to her, leaving enough space between the two for it to be clearly platonic - yep, that's right, John. Sherlock knows what platonic looks like. All thanks to the many girls he's failed to pick up over the years.

At least one good thing's come out of John's failed love life.

(Y/n) sighed, knowing it was most likely quite pointless trying to lie to a master detective and deducer. So, she closed her book and pulled her legs up onto the couch, crossing them in front of herself.

"Oh, it's not a big deal." She halfheartedly smiled, doing a horrible job of trying to hide her worry. And for her to feel worried about such a small thing, well, this clearly told Sherlock it must be quite unusual behaviour. "My sister said she'd call me once my plane landed yesterday. But I haven't gotten anything from her. Not a word."

The two paused their discussion as Lestrade announced his departure. And once he left, John moved to join them on the couch, causing (Y/n) to shuffle down and get squished between the two.

"Hey... what's wrong?" John asked, now noticing her slightly stressed features, and he turned himself towards her slightly, before looking up and sharing a worried glance with Sherlock.

"Nicky hasn't called." (Y/n) spoke, her voice clearly forcing a tone of normalcy, "She's probably just busy."

"The same Nicky who's struggled to find any sort of stable job for most of her life and spends half her day annoying you with messages and calls?" John asked, brows knitting as she nodded in response.

Then the two men did something they were surprised the other was thinking about. 

They both stood, simultaneously, and made their way to their respective chairs, letting (Y/n)'s gaze follow them in confusion, before John nodded his head, gesturing for her to join them as 'a client'.

"Seriously?"

She watched John grin, before nodding his head and glancing over to Sherlock, who kept his gaze to the floor, awaiting her to join them.

So, she stood, leaving her book on the couch and took her seat between the two. And she sat awkwardly, waiting for one of them to speak. But it was soon evident that they were, instead, waiting for her. So, she took a deep breath before she let the words sink into her brain, just before she let them flow out of her mouth.

No point trying to hide your worries now.

"I think something's happened to my sister."

-

The door clicked shut and Roy made his way up the hidden staircase to his little studio, littered with books, paintings in the process of drying, and a woman. A woman who had been patiently sat all day, awaiting his arrival.

"Finally." She giggled, seeing him shed his coat and make his way into her arms. 

They shared a kiss as he moved into her vicinity, a passionate kiss that felt hungry for the sake of nothing more than wanting each other. There was no love in the exchange, only tension.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Darling."

He spoke, breaking their kiss and pushing her gently onto the couch stationed behind his desk. But instead of joining her, he simply took a seat at said desk, and started typing away.

"Are you ever going to let me have my phone back? We've been together for a month and you're already limiting my screen time." She playfully rolled her eyes, standing up and walking over to him, letting her hands land on his shoulders, gently massaging the knots out of them as he worked.

"Is that a complaint, I'm hearing?"

His tone shifted. And her hands stopped, instead opting to retract them ever so slightly, and moving to hold the bruise on her shoulder; a result from the last time she 'complained' about not being allowed to leave.

"N-no. I just- My sister-"

"You have a sister?" He spun his chair around, now facing her. 

And his eyes darkened, finding this knowledge risky. He knew her parents were basically out of the picture. But a sister? A sister would be someone who'd come looking for her.

And he couldn't have that.

-

"We'll find her, don't worry." John spoke as (Y/n) felt her phone vibrate. They both perked up at the noise, but it soon faltered once she informed them it was a text from work.

"I'm needed at the gallery," She stood, going to grab her coat and the two followed, noting they should probably head to St Barts for an update on the body.

"We'll let you know if anything comes up, about the body or your sister." Sherlock said as he tightened his blue scarf around his neck.

And they made their way down the flat, parting in opposite directions as their heels hit the street. And Sherlock struggled to keep his head forward as he walked alongside John, finding himself turning back to see (Y/n) making her way further and further away from them. And out of the corner of his eye, he saw John do the same thing, before catching the doctor turn towards him, a brow raised in sheer and utter confusion.

---
*mic drop* lore babyyyyy, how the plot thickens-

Until next time <3