"Told you."
"They're so cute."
"Our little JohnLock."
You and Mary stand in the doorway of Sherlock's bedroom while observing the snuggling men on the bed. You called Mary over to pick up John and you walked into the room to discover the two looking quite cozy together.
"Should we wake them up?" Mary asks.
"No. I want to see their faces when they realize they're cuddling each other and not us," you reply.
"So are you two serious?" she asks.
You slightly tilt your head in thought. "I guess."
Your conversation is cut short when Sherlock and John beginning stirring. They end up facing each other with arms draped over the other and legs somewhat tangled.
Slowly, very slowly, they begin peeling their eyes open and blinking rapidly. Their eyes widen before peering over at you and Mary then back at their situation.
"Why are you in my bed?!" Sherlock exclaims and the pair jump up too fast, resulting in them both tripping over the sheets and falling on the floor.
You and Mary laugh at them as they groan in pain from their headaches and also the impact. Not in much of a hurry, they get to their feet with their clothes wrinkled and disheveled.
"John, I can't believe you're cheating on me and so close to our wedding date!" Mary jokes.
"What happened?" Sherlock groans while clutching his head.
"You went out for two hours and managed to get wasted. Such lightweights," you answer, sharing a fist-bump with Mary.
"I am never doing that again," John complains, rubbing his eyes.
Mary smiles and helps John. "We have cake tasting in an hour, so we have to go. Bye, guys," she says and John looks like he wants to throw up just thinking about eating.
"Bye," you say, waiting to hear the door click shut before turning to Sherlock. "Shower, aspirin, now."
Sherlock doesn't argue and you take his arm and lead him into the bathroom. You turn to get the shower running while you hear Sherlock unbuttoning his shirt. You look to see his back turned to you as he peels off his shirt and let's it drop to the ground only for you to freeze.
"Sherlock," you whisper, your voice nearly cracking.
"What?" he says unknowingly as he goes to turn around, but you stop him.
"What happened?" you ask referring to the jagged scars slashed across the middle of his back as tears gather in your eyes.
"Oh," he mumbles and takes a deep breath. "When I was away, I had to break into a base in Serbia and I got caught. They wanted to know why I was there and tortured me."
Your hand covers your mouth to stop the sobs leaving your mouth. You had no idea what Sherlock had endured in those two years he played dead, but now you see how serious it all had been. Not to mention the thought of anyone hurting him, no, physically scarring him like this burning a mixture of anger and sadness within you.
You bring your hand up to run over one of the three scars that cross each other over his back and feel as he tenses under your gentle touch. They feel smooth yet fragile under your fingertips and you can tell they must have been done with some sort of whip over and over until it dug far enough into his skin.
You can't imagine the amount of pain he was in, but some part of you knows he didn't scream or plead for them to stop or beg for mercy because he's strong. Far stronger than you ever thought.
"Does it bother you?" Sherlock mutters, bringing you out of your thoughts.
"No," you whisper truthfully.
You let your hand fall as Sherlock slowly pivots and doesn't meet your eyes as if ashamed of something he would call a deformity.
"No," you repeat, letting a few years stream down your cheeks as you reach up and cup Sherlock's face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "I think they're beautiful. It just hurts me that someone could do that to you. I wish I could've been there for you."
Sherlock brings his arms around your waist to pull you closer. "I'm okay now and I know you'll always be there for me from now on. Don't worry about it. Okay, darling?"
Sherlock leans down to lay a soft kiss on your lips as he almost sheds a tear as well because for the first time in his life, he thinks he has found someone he could never live without.
♖♖♖
"Sherlock, where are we going?" you ask for the eighth time.
"Just be quiet. We're almost there," he replies.
You sigh and let him drag you by the hand. Sherlock has been acting off most of the day and then he took you to the first floor of the flat and made you follow him through a door with a staircase going somewhere.
You get to the top of the stairs and Sherlock throws open the door to the roof. You stifle your laughter when you see a blanket layed down on the surface and a few candles set up.
"Sherlock Holmes, are you trying to be romantic?"
Sherlock rolls his eyes and leads you to the blanket where you both sit then lean back on your elbows to look up at the bright and surprisingly starry sky with a full moon to add to its glory.
"That," Sherlock starts, pointing a finger to the sky, "is the constellation Lyra the Lyre where Vega, the brightest star of the Summer Triangle, is located."
"Did you really drag me up here to locate constellations?" you ask.
"No. I just thought it would be a good place to start before I ask you what I want to ask you," he replies.
"Which would be?"
Sherlock lays all the way back with his hands behind his head. "You know all about my family: my parents and Mycroft. But I don't know anything about where you grew up or who with."
"Oh," you chuckle, fully resting your back against the blanket. "Well, I grew up in an orphanage my whole life until I turned eighteen. For years I never knew what to do with my life because I never found anything interesting.
"I got a random call one day from a woman saying she wanted my help with some assignment and said one of my instructors recommended me because of my high intellectual standard in their class. I accepted the job and had to simply find out who was robbing a few banks around the country.
"It was fairly easy. I had nothing to lose and they kept offering me work after that with no contract or annual income. I eventually got a private case to find that missing person and that's when I met Mycroft. The rest is history."
Silence descends as you finish your brief life story. Sherlock shifts and grabs you to bring you closer so your head is resting on his chest and his arm is draped over you.
"You're honestly a rubbish sociopath," you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
Sherlock kisses your head and mumbles, "I know, but this is what you do to me."
"I think it's nice."
"Yes, it is."
YOU ARE READING
Exception || Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Fanfiction(Y/N) (L/N) works for Mycroft Holmes and has for years, but when Mycroft's brother, Sherlock, fakes his suicide, Mycroft needs someone to take his place. He decides there is no one better than (Y/N) who has nearly identical abilities to his little b...
