Fandom Imagines and Preferences II

John Watson- Fake Death (c)

Sherlock One Shot

"You walked away! Not me!"

Since you first met your husband you had never heard his voice hold so much venom and anger before. He was a generally calm man, on rare occasions he could get a bit angry, however never to this extent, he sounded as though he was prepared to commit a murder.

"John," you called out.

He didn't respond, so instead you made your way to the hall to see the reason of the anger and it was very obvious why- you were prepared to kill the other man as well.

In the hall stood your husband, fury written on his face, and opposite him Sherlock Holmes, the infamous consulting detective who had died in front of your husbands eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You hissed.

"I came to see John and he invited me back to his home," Sherlock stated in his usual smartass tone.

"I didn't invite you home. You bloody followed me and wouldn't take no for an answer," John frowned.

Without thinking through your actions rationally, you took a step towards the tall brunette and allowed your palm to collide with his pale cheek. Instantly he reacted as though nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Do you understand that your actions have consequences you bastard? You faked your own bloody death, what type of sane person does that? Well I answered my own question- you aren't sane. Do you know what your little charade did? John was a mess when I met him. He had lost his best friend, and couldn't trust anyone, finally he was able to turn his back on you, accept your death, become a real husband to me and be ready to be a father to our child," you exclaimed, resting a hand protectively on your swollen middle. "And you think you can just waltz back into his life. I've heard the stories about you Mr Holmes and from what John told me you were a hero, but I think really you're just a coward that is desperate for the spotlight, and since everyone stopped talking about you, you had to come back to get attention."

"Who are you?" He questioned, completely ignoring everything you had said.

Your face began to flush red as you were preparing to murder the man in front of you. John reached out to lightly grasp your arm, making you turn your head towards him, to see his weak, reassuring smile.

"Love calm down, think about the baby," John said trying to seem calm. "Sherlock. This is my wife Y/N."

"Don't tell me to be calm. And I am thinking about the baby, I didn't think it'd appreciate its mother to be in prison for murder, which is the only reason I haven't killed him yet," you frowned.

"It was vital for me to fake my death. If you'd only let me explain," Sherlock sighed rolling his eyes.

You went to argue with the tall man once more, but John took a step forward gesturing for you to stay silent.

"You can explain. I owe you that much. But that is all I owe you Sherlock. Until I know why you did that to me... to us all... I don't know if I could ever forgive you. But I need to know why. And how."

Sherlock gave a firm nod as John made his way into the living room. He went to follow but you grabbed his wrist stopping him.

"If you hurt him again, you'll wish you stayed dead."

~*~

Written by Charlotte.