Sherlock Imagines [ Book 1 ]

Behind These Hazel Eyes (Part 3)

Time stood still.

You'd raced out of Greg's flat and into the nearest can. Your knee was bouncing as it pulled up towards 221b.

There was only one thing on your mind.

Sherlock Sherlock Sherlock Sherlock

Worry and anxiety gathered in the pit of your stomach. He was in trouble and it was because of you.

The cold claws of guilt and regret wrapped around your heart, why did you  have to say such awful things?

As soon as the cab came to a stop, you hopped out, rushing up the stairs and letting yourself in. You ran up the next set of stairs, knowing the flat like the back of your hand. "John?" You called out, finding the door to their flat unlocked. John was pacing back and forth in the hall, "(Your Name)." Relief rushed over his features, "he's in his room." You nodded and rushed past the army Doctor, knocking on the door. "Sherlock! Sherlock open up, it's me."

There was a moment, before the sound of shuffling from the bedroom. You felt tears prick your eyes, "Sherlock I said somethings I shouldn't have and I'm sorry." Your fist seemed to freeze in place, leaning against the door. "I'm sorry. I was hurt, so I hurt you and that wasn't ok. Please let me in, we can work this out."

More silence.

You bit your lip as more tears ran down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I should of handled things Sherlock." You said softly, leaning your forehead against the door. "I love you so much, and even the thought of you not returning those feelings breaks my heart."

Slowly, the silence was broken with the sound of rustling. You pulled back, feeling a small hope fire up within you. The door opened, revealing the curly haired detective.

He'd turned a new shade of pale, his eyes seemed to be sunken in. He seemed even skinnier then usual, it seemed as if he'd collapse if you even breathed in his direction. His robe slung over ratty pajamas You looked up at him wide eyes, "Sherlock." You whispered hoarsely, you wanted to hug him. You wanted to kiss him right then and there, but you could feel the invisible barrier between you.

His eyes sparkled with sunlight that filtered through his closed blinds, they lacked the usual fire and mischief that burned within them, and now they were filled with nothing but pain.

"Agent Lestrade." His deep baritone sounded mangled and you could smell the sick cigarette smoke.

You felt your heart crumble, he'd never used your actual title from the day you met, always insisting on using your first name because he liked it better.

"Sherlock I'm so sorry." You heard John shift uncomfortably behind you. You turned toward the army doctor, "John could you give us a minute?"

John nodded, looking more then happy to leave the room.

You turned back to Sherlock, you felt yourself begin to sob.

"Sherlock I love you, I don't care about your experiments and I can handle the fact that we will never be like your average couple you see walking down the street. I don't mind if I don't get flowers every other day like some girls at the office. All that shit doesn't matter as long as I have you. I-I-" You were cut off by Sherlock's lips on yours. He gently snaked his arm around your waist, putting a hand on the back of your head. You felt you knees go weak as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You realized how you missed the warmth of his touch, the way a simple kiss could make everything seem better again. You didn't want to let go, nor the moment to end, afraid he would fade away if it did.

He pulled away, he took your arm in his hands and rolled up your sleeve. You instantly tried to yank away. "let me see them." He whispered.

"why?"

"I want to see all the times you needed me and I wasn't there." He answered, you looked away, suddenly feeling ashamed. He pulled you towards him and into a warm embrace.

"I love you." He said softly, your eyes widened.

It's true it wasn't poetry or taped to a lovely bouquet of flowers, but those two rare words from Sherlock were just enough.

***

*Two days later*

You brushed back your hair, pulling it into a tight bun. You were finally heading back to work at Scottland yard, you were pretty sure you used up your sick days for the next three years. You stepped out of the cab and into the office. Hurrying as fast as you could to your desk.

Greg raised an eyebrow as he saw you, smirking. "Late again Lestrade."

"Shut up Lestrade." You muttered and dropped your bag down next to your desk, your eyes widened slightly as you found a single rose on your desk. A small message taped to it.

'So Graham won't kill me in my sleep.' - SH

You chuckled softly, watching your brother walk back towards his office. Someone steppped in front of your desk, you looked up to find the great Sherlock Holmes standing in front of you. You smiled, "It's a very pretty flower." You stood on your toes and pecked his lips.

"SHERLOCK HOLMES ARE YOU SMOOCHING MY SISTER?"

You saw Sherlock's eyes widen, you couldn't help waves of laughter that erupted from you as Sherlock ran towards the exit, Greg in pursuit, his gun in hand.

Somethings you just don't want to change.

You sniffed the rose and smiled, watching the pair, maybe you were wrong.

Maybe Sherlock Holmes did have a heart.

a/n

i'm sorry if that last was too out of character but i had the idea and i couldn't not do it. i was laughing too hard to write it at first, so it was worth it.

So here's part 3 as promised, let me know what y'all thought of this little three parter.

I need Moriarty idea guys, I feel like I lack the mad man. Requests are always open!

Love y'all

Bye bye for now