What Lies Beneath (Sherlock (BBC) Fan-Fiction)**Under Heavy Rewrites**

Chapter 5; Cracking the Walls of the Mystery Man

Chapter 5;

(P.O.V Winter)

I walked along the went pavement, earphones in, music blasted from them. It was about 11;30 pm, it had been raining for hours. I had my hood up, to keep my hair from getting wet. I finally came to the flat, and quickly went up the stairs. I opened the door quietly, expecting everyone to be asleep.

But instead, I found Sherlock, sitting in his chair, reading a book.

The fire was lit, making Sherlock’s pale skin nearly glow. Also casting rather large shadows, seeing as it was the only light source.

Sherlock looked up from his book, seeing me standing in the doorway.

I walked to my room, and changed into my sweatpants, and another t-shirt. I put on dry socks and walked back down stairs.

“Well, I see you finally decided to come back. John was nearly out of his wits.” Sherlock said, nicely.

“I know. I’m sorry its so late but i-“

Sherlock held up his hand, interrupting me.

“Its not your fault, John should really be more careful about what he says.” Sherlock says.

I chuckle, wrapping a blanket around me, and sitting in Uncle Johns chair.

“What?” Sherlock said, looking at me confused.

“Its just that, well, that what he said to me, about you.” I said.

“What do you mean?” Sherlock asked.

“When I first got here. Uncle John warned me about you being able to offend people with the truth, and not knowing when you should and shouldn’t make comments about how brilliant or fun chasing a killer is. Sgt Donovan thinks your going to end up being a killer yourself.” I said.

“What do you think?” he asked, setting his book aside.

“Me? I think she’s completely insane. You couldn’t hurt anyone, not like that. Your to kind, even if you offend everyone.” I said, smirking.

“How can you tell? You should know that I don’t believe in feelings. There just chemicals that people have created in there mind. Especially Love, it’s the worst. It causes people to do stupid things.” He said.

“You want to know how I can tell? Its simple really. Your eyes. They always say that they eyes are the way to the soul. Well maybe that’s a little but true. When I first met you, my uncle made you seem like a man that was heartless. But, then I met you, in person, and I seen your eyes. Your eyes, Sherlock, are soft, and kind. You may believe that feelings are chemicals that the human brain makes up, but maybe that’s just to protect yourself from getting hurt?” I said, truthfully.

Sherlock remained silent. he sat back in his chair and put his hands together as though he was praying. He rested the tips of his figures on the very end of his chin. He stared at the fire rather intensely.  

After several moments, he lowered his hands, and turned to me.

“You’re a bright young lady. I’ll give you that. But it’s getting late, so you better head up to bed. Were going back to the crime scene tomorrow.” He said, rising from his chair.

I stood as well, and nodded, before walking over, and hugging Sherlock.

For several moments, he stood there, before lightly wrapping his arms around me, slightly hugging back.

We pulled apart, and I rose on my tip-toes (he was so tall) and kissed his cheek.

“Good night Sherlock.” I said, as I headed for the stairs.

“Good night, Winter.” He said, faintly.

I went to my room, and closed the door behind me. I sighed heavily, before lying in bed.

I closed my eyes, trying to get to sleep. But there was only one thing that my mind was concerned with.

Sherlock.