SUPERWHOLOCK Imagines

Imagine: Heartbreaking Betrayal

This imagine was suggested by Best_Username_Ever_

I hope you enjoy!!!
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Being a spy isn't easy. There's a lot of ways to mess up and get caught. You must always make sure that you aren't being followed or recorded. You must make sure you're alone in a room should you contact your boss. You must remember your back story and everything that comes with it.

Your back story? You were a 'family friend', leading to you meeting Sherlock. And that meeting soon led to dating and eventually marriage. So, here you are, five years after your wedding, preparing to take Sherlock to meet your 'father', who had just gotten out of prison after being wrongfully charged for something.

"[Y/N], are you sure you want to do this?" Sherlock questions as he walks over to you, gently rubbing your upper arms in a soothing manner as he stares into your eyes. "You've been nervous all week."

You sigh, smiling softly at him, "I'm just afraid that he won't approve of you." Of course, that was a lie. After all, 'daddy' just wants to kill him.

Sherlock chuckles quietly, something he only ever does when he's around you. "Your father will approve. And, if he doesn't, then screw him." You can't help but to laugh lightly.

"Are you ready to go?" You question, letting out a shaky sigh as he nods, heading out the door before you. As you sit in the backseat of the cab, you can't help but to think of what life would be like without Sherlock. Though you're a spy, you still love the time you spend with him. He was actually quite the gentleman. He barely touched you without permission, and if he did it was nowhere inappropriate. Hell, the only time you two ever kissed was at your wedding, and even then it was just a small peck.

Spending five years with someone really lets them grow on you. Once your boss kills Sherlock, you're not sure what you're going to do. You've been on this mission for so long, you can't remember what it's like to be doing something else.

"We're here," Sherlock whispers, gently shaking you to get you're attention. You discard your thoughts as you smile softly at him before exiting the cab. Taking a deep breath, you lead him up the stairs and through the door of your 'fathers' lovely home.

"Ah, [Y/N]. It's so good to see you," your boss embraces you, a smile on his face. You squirm slightly, feeling uncomfortable at his touch.

"Hello father," you somehow manage to say the words with stuttering. It's odd calling your boss that. "This is my husband Sherlock."

"Sherlock, it's so good to meet you," he shakes Sherlocks hand, an odd glint in his eyes. Weirdly, you feel slightly scared. Not for yourself, but for Sherlock. It is the day of his death after all. And, even though it's been your mission from the start, you can't help but to feel as if Sherlock doesn't deserve to die, but instead your boss does. After several years of being with Sherlock, you've found not a single bad thing about him. Well, nothing too serious to lead to his murder.

"Shall we sit down?" Your boss questions, motioning to an ugly green couch covered in a pink flowery design. You hesitate, but sit anyways. "So, tell me about yourself Sherlock."

"I solve crimes. Only murders though," Sherlock begins, his voice low and husky. You blush, feeling slightly turned on by just his voice. "I'm actually here to take you in."

You look at Sherlock surprised. "What?" You blurt, staring wide eyed at your husband.

"I know you're a spy and that this is your boss," Sherlock explains, standing up and straightening his coat. "I've known since the day I met you."

"Then why did you marry me?" You question, feeling uneasy. You're the best spy in the world, so how on earth did he know?

"I married you because I like you [Y/N]. Even if you're trying to get me killed." He looks at you briefly before turning to your boss.

"That was before I got to know you. The real you and not the you that they told me about. Over the past five years I've fallen for you Sherlock," you admit, surprising even yourself.

"Enough," your boss growls, pulling out his gun and pointing it at Sherlock. You pull out your own gun, pointing it at your boss. He turns his gun to you, pulling the trigger before either you or Sherlock could react. You feel a sharp pain before you collapse to the ground, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. You hear another shot and a loud thump before Sherlock comes back into view, leaning over you. He applies pressure to your wound, panicking.

"Sherlock," you whisper, reaching up and softly caressing his cheek with your finger tips. "I'm so sorry."

"Shut up [Y/N]," he mumbles, applying more pressure to your wound. "It's not your fault." You open your mouth to say something, but find it nearly impossible. The oxygen you're gasping for isn't filling your lungs like it should be. "The damn bullet went through your left lung. I can't do anything," his voice cracks.

Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you stare up at him. "Sherlock, it's okay. It was either me or you. The world needs you more than it does me."

"No-" he begins but you cut him off by shaking your head weakly.

"I love you Sherlock. Don't ever forget that," you whisper, coughing roughly as blood begins to dribble out of your mouth and down the side of your face.

"I love you too [Y/N]."

And for the first time in a long time, Sherlock cried until he could no more. He sat next to your limo body as he hugged his knees, rocking back and forth as sobs ripped through his body. He wouldn't move away from your side until he was dragged away by the police, claiming that he could no longer be there.

That he could no longer be by your side.