⚜Sherlock Imagines⚜ {Wattys2017}

Losing You- Sherlock

This was requested by the marvellous mugglegranger ! Sorry if there are any spelling/grammar errors! Warning: Sadness ahead...

Much love,
~Stéph❤️Redangel259~
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(Sherlock POV)
Six thirty. Sharp. Get out of bed. Get ready and solve a crime, end the day, repeat in the morning. A schedule I'd become so familiar with. The landlady had made me tea, as always. I noticed that she put around an extra tablespoon of milk today, likely bound to happen with her shaky hands. I went out the door just as John had gotten breakfast and was reading the paper. I got into a cab and drove over to (Y/N)'s lab, she had something there waiting for me.
As I opened the heavy metal doors, (Y/N) grinned at me from her desk. "Hello Sherlock, I have some of the photos you needed. Also a list of potential weapons. Plus, I stayed up all night brainstorming the type of killer we are dealing with. Likely one of Moriarty's allies." With the glimmer in her eyes, you could tell she was genuine. I grabbed the items away from her and carried on with my day. She looked hesitant to ask me something, but I left before I could reach anymore confrontation. I walked out of the building to have (Y/N) follow behind me.

"What are you doing?" I asked impatiently, my precious time being terribly wasted.
"Well, I thought you would need some help at the scene. You know, since Moriarty is back. I figured you'd want some help or some company?" (Y/N) started to show a slight pigmentation in her cheeks. I knew what she was trying to do.
"No. You aren't very much help to me." I answered simply as I hailed a cab. (Y/N) looked rather disappointed offended, I almost felt guilty for what I said. But that's when I remembered, I am a sociopath. I don't have feelings. I got into the cab, my face cold and serious. I had better things to think about. Moriarty was back, I didn't know how. Not yet. The car started to drive down the street, I looked back to see that (Y/N) was frozen in the same spot. She appeared to be heartbroken, and I didn't know why. Perhaps I had been too harsh? I should make it right to apologize tomorrow.

~~Next Day~~
(3rd person POV )
You arrived early to your lab today, still thinking about what Sherlock said yesterday. How could he be so rude to you? After all of the hours you stayed awake just to help him. Every piece of work you had done for him, was now apparently garbage? From the time you woke up to the time you went to bed you had done everything he asked of you, and he never said a single thank you? Even though he had done such horrible things, you couldn't stay angry for long. It wasn't good to keep grudges, especially against Sherlock Holmes. You didn't know why you still liked him, you clearly would never be good enough for him. He deserved better.

As you turned on the lights to your lab, you were surprised by a loud banging sound. You quickly turned around to see that one of your knives had been taken from off the wall. A burning sensation soon filled your head as a man pulled down at your hair. You thought quickly, grabbing a pen from your pocket and jabbing him in the arm. The man didn't move, except his arm which took both of your hands and put them behind your back. The last thing you remembered, was a man in a suit standing before you, and a cold fist slamming against your face.

~~30mins afterwards~~
Sherlock walked quickly to your lab, rehearsing his apology in his head over and over. As he got to the metal doors, he realized something wasn't right. "The door. It's unlocked. (Y/N) always keeps her door locked in the mornings, even when she knows someone is coming." Sherlock thought to himself. He swiftly grabbed a gun from his coat pocket, and slowly opened the door. Sherlock walked into the centre of the dark laboratory, noticing a copious amount of blood on the floor. Suddenly the lights turned on, revealing a most horrid sight.
"Well, well, well. Looks like someone finally decided to show up to the party." A voice called out, an Irish accent weaving its way throughout the sentence. Moriarty. Sherlock immediately pointed his gun at Moriarty, taking side glances to his left. There you sat in a chair, different types of the daggers from your wall stabbed into various parts of your body. Sherlocks face whitened, an anger bubbling up inside of him.

"Let her go, it's me who you want." Sherlock stated calmly, as he noticed the red sniper dots appear on his chest. Moriarty laughed greedily, shoving his gun to the side of your face. "No, no. She is much more fun. Personally, I think she's having a great time, aren't you?"
You struggled against your restraints and looked at Sherlock. You could see the guilt, anger, and sadness fill his eyes. You looked up to Moriarty and grimaced in pain. "You know if you want a clear shot with less to clean up, I suggest shooting from at least a foot away. I know how you hate it when your suit gets dirty." You spat out the blood that was trickling down your chin as Moriarty put his gun away.
"How thoughtful. I might just have to keep her Sherlock," Moriarty taunted. Sherlock's jaw tightened as he held the grip on his gun tighter. "I can't have you do that." he blurted out.
Moriarty let out a shocked expression, "Uh oh. You have a thing for her don't you? This makes things more enjoyable." You looked up to Sherlock who had a look of defeat and embarrassment on his face. He looked over to you and couldn't find any words to say. Moriarty walked closer to you, a final dagger in his hand. "Well, for me at least."

For a moment, everything seemed so perfect. You saw how perfectly blue Sherlock's eyes were, and how his hair perfectly shaped his facade. The features of his face became imbedded in your mind, as something cold and sharp was plunged into your heart. Everything became dark, and Moriarty had vanished.
You slowly started to panic as your lungs began to fill with blood. Sherlock rushed over to you, violently taking out the knives that laid in your body. Every breath you took, became more painful. Every cry you let out, made Sherlock's eyes swell up with tears. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! God damnit I don't know what to do!" Sherlock yelled in frustration. He untied your hands and you automatically fell out of your chair. "Please! Don't leave me (Y/N)! I need you! I can't live without you!" He pleaded to you as you struggled to stay breathing. As you looked up to his face, you saw tears roll down his cheek. You reached up for him, grasping onto his hand. For once, the pain seemed to subside for a moment. With your remaining strength, you let out a smile, "So this is what happens when I arrive early to work huh?"
Sherlock laughed through his tears and pulled you closer, cradling you. "Goodbye Sherlock Holmes, it has and always will be; a pleasure." With your last breath, you fell deeper into his arms.

He held your cold body until the police and paramedics had arrived. Sherlock never forgave himself, even though you forgave him. He never knew someone could mean so much to him, until you were gone. His life was changed, by losing you.

The End
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