Benedict Cumberbatch Imagines

IMAGINE: Sherlock using you to get to your brother, Moriarty

     You walk down the street with Sherlock, who's lost deep in thought. You smile at him. "Why do you even like me, Sherlock?" You ask.

     "Hmm, what?" He murmurs, turning his attention on you.

     "I said, why do you even like me? I've got a psycho path for a brother who tried to murder you..." You say. You've had a crush on Sherlock for years. After Moriarty "died", Sherlock and you became friends. He recently told you that he's starting to have feelings for you, as well.

     Sherlock looks at you and you feel weak-kneed. "I like you because I know you're nothing like your brother. You aren't Moriarty and Moriarty isn't you." He replies.

      "I never will be like Moriarty, I promise you that." You state seriously, stopping on the sidewalk.

    Sherlock stops as well. "I know, Y/N." He says. You smile and then continue walking. Sherlock falls silent again, most likely lost in thought, and you sigh a little. He tends to do that when you're with him and it bugs you.

     "So speaking of Moriarty, have you heard any word from him since he mysteriously came back to life?" Sherlock asks randomly.

     A pit of fear drops into your stomach. "Uh, no, I haven't." You lie, looking down at your boots. You swallow. You just saw your older brother this morning at the docks near the beach. You brought him some food and clothing.

     "Oh, interesting." Sherlock murmurs, staring at you out of the corner of his eyes.

     You clear your throat and look up at your work building. "Well, this is my stop. I'll see you later." You say, hugging Sherlock before quickly walking into the building. Sherlock stares after you, his eyes narrowed.

---

     Before you can even take your boots off after you get home from work, you receive a text from a unknown number saying: "Y/N, could you bring some more blankets? It's really cold out here. Please. -Moriarty."

     You grumble and sigh, before grabbing a few blankets out of a trunk and leaving your house again. You walk the short way to the beach where Moriarty is.

     "Moriarty!" You whisper loudly. Moriarty comes out of a boat shed and when he sees you, he runs over to you. You hug each other tightly.

      "Wow, how did you know I needed blankets?" He chatters. You open your mouth, your eyebrows drawn in confusion.

     "I just don't get why I can't stay at your house." Moriarty adds, cutting you off.

      You pull back and look at him, frowning. "We've talked about this. Y-you can't stay there." You say.

     "Why not?" Moriarty asks, wrapping a blanket around himself.

     "Because you just can't, okay?" You snap.

     "Are you scared about when you have company over? I won't disturb you, I promise." He insists.

     "James, I love you, but no." You say, taking a step away from him. "I'm sorry." You whisper, before turning your heel in the wet sand and running off.

---

     As soon as you open the door to your house, you gasp and stop. "Sherlock, what have I told you about entering in without waiting for me?" You chide as he stands looking at the pictures on your wall.

     He looks at you. "You told me you were going home immediately after work." He states.

     You take off your boots and look away. "Well, I was... but something came up." You hedge.

     "What?" He asks.

     "I, uh, it was nothing." You mutter.

     Sherlock suddenly grabs you by the shoulders. "How come you didn't tell me you were with your brother?" He asks suddenly.

     You gasp and your eyes widen. "I-I wasn't!" You protest.

     "Oh, stop lying, Y/N. I see the sand caked on your boots, your hair is wind tossed and you smell fishy." He takes note. "I watched you go there so lying would be a boorish attempt to through me off your brother's trail."

     "Y-you followed me?" You squeak out, tears stinging your eyes.

     He nods. "And as we speak, your brother is getting escorted into police cars." He states.

     "What!" You practically shout. "H-how?" You ask, panicked.

     "This morning when I walked you to work, I noticed the sand on your boots and my mind started ticking. That random text you got tonight from that unknown number? Yeah, I was using a friend's number and posed as your brother. I followed you to him and called the police." Sherlock explains.

     You look at Sherlock in horror. "I led you right to Moriarty." You whisper.

      "Really brilliantly done, Y/N." Sherlock amends. "Thank you so much for your cooperation."

     You pull away from him with a grunt, angry tears splattering down your cheeks. "You don't even like me, do you? You were just lying to me and using me to get to my brother." You spit.

     Sherlock shrugs. "It was the only way, really." He replies.

     "I liked you!" You exclaim angrily.

    "That's your fault." He throws out.

     You slump against the wall, breathing heavily as your world falls. "I-I can't believe it..." You murmur.

     "Eh, you really should." Sherlock replies. "Okay, well, I best be off to go see your brother. Again, Y/N, thanks for your cooperation." He sighs, before walking out the door.

     "What..." You whisper, dazed. "I-I-I-" You stammer before bursting into tears at betraying your brother and losing the man you liked but never really had.
[THE END] I hope you liked it!