Sherlock Imagines

Cristmas Carol

Fandom_Princess_21 ,if this tanks, blame me, not her. It's my shoddy writing's fault, and my (probably very bad) interpretation of this!

Today had been exhausting. Being caught in between three amazingly handsome geniuses sounds great, but all they do is fight. And all they want is for you to choose. One, it isn't fair to have to decide what side you want to be on, and lose your friends from the other. Two, if you did happen to 'choose' one of the brothers, things would be more tense than they already are, which makes the obvious choice the outlier that isn't related to either. But, as third would have it, he was trying to kill one of the others, your friend. Plus he was a devil. A handsome devil, but a devil nonetheless. You slumped into the sofa in your office, hoping you didn't have another wave of texts awaiting you. Wishful thinking.

From Mad Hat Detective;
You can't actually feel this is a choice! Mycroft is be-hassling, and Moriarty's insane! Come on, y/n! Think! I love you, does that mean nothing to you?
SH

From Queen and Country;
Consider your options wisely, dearest.
Sherlock, childish to the extreme, and Moriarty's likely trying to use you. I care about you, please weigh your choices carefully. ~M. Holmes

From Moriparty;
Look. I don't have any argument on why you should choose me or any of that bs. But I do care deeply for you... Love you, y/n. Well, that's all I got. -King JM

You just weren't sure. Hearing Sherlock of all people say he loved you was insane enough, but Mycroft as well within the next twenty minutes? Then Moriarty (bless the poor man's heart) seemed to be breaking as he heard this. It was insanity. The whole lot of them claimed to never hold sentiment, to not have a heart. Yet, here they were, handing them to you.
And you had to let two of them fall to the ground, and smash in a million pieces. Two of your friends, and it'd be all your fault. Sherlock was more or less everything you dreamed of in a husband when you were a little girl, but he was using unrelated topics to make himself look better. Plus, lately you two's relationship had been pretty good. Not that Mycroft was doing much different, but the elder Holmes and you had some pretty great, funny, adorable memories together. They both were the good guys. Heroes, even. Then there was Jim. You'd known him longer than either Holmes, not by much, but still. He didn't even try to accuse the others of not being good enough. He told you how he felt, and just left the decision up to you. Though, he wasn't exactly subtle with it, when he promised that, if you had decided you loved him, he'd never let anything happen to you. Saddest part about it was that, with all the two of you had done on talking about the future, you could definitely imagine one with Jim. Plus, his children-wrangling skills were even better than yours. Sheesh. This, all of it, was exhausting.
You needed a nap.
Stretching onto the small love seat/sofa, you let your eyes drift closed. You woke up to someone shaking you lightly. Prying your eyes open, you were met by a batch of fog and two pairs of blue eyes, one pair tinged with green the other grey. A bit startled, you shot up in your place, finally seeing a bit more clearly.
"John? Seb?" You looked between the two blondes, "What're you guys doing here?" You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, your vision clearing only enough to realize they were handcuffed together.
"What the?-"
"You need to choose between Mycroft and Sherlock. Thy deserve to know who you love!" John fought, before getting elbowed in the side by Sebastian.
"Sherlock, Mycroft, and Moriarty, remember?" He said, voice heated with annoyance and venom. John scoffed, as if the idea were completely ridiculous.
"Why would she love a criminal?" John glared at the much taller soldier, who glared back, his unusual scar overlapping his left eye as always.
"It's possible, she is his friend, too, you know!" They continued to argue while you tried to figure out how fog got into a seventh story office, and why two of your friends were handcuffed together. While you were considering how this was even remotely possible, they started throwing punches at one another. The row became increasingly violent, and you began worrying how you'd get one or both to the hospital without them biting one another's heads off.
"Will you two stop it! Why are you hand cuffed together? What's going on here?" Nothing about this made even remote sense, and it really started to irk you. By some godly force, they both immediately silenced, and turned towards you.
"He is my ball and chains," eerily their voices overlapped, and then they held up the cuffed wrists, "these are my shackles." John took a half-step forward.
"Your past with Mycroft is something you've thought a lot about. So is your present with Sherlock." Sebastian followed suit, still holding a glare to John, and continued without missing a beat.
"And Jim, the future. You need to decide, y/n. You need to decide..." And like that, you were shocked awake, sitting upright in your old uni dorm. Mycroft held both your shoulders, a look of genuine concern in his eyes.
"Y/n? Are you alright?" A strand of f/c hair fell into your eye, and for a second you were on the brink of freaking out. Sophomore year at uni you had streaked your hair, but that was years ago. Mycroft had always been a few years older than you, and you were now accustomed to his current look, but this... this was when Mycroft was twenty five. He resembled Sherlock in a number of ways, but his straight hair, that was a few shades light than the younger Holmes', and shade darker eyes told you this was undoubtably Mycroft Holmes.
"Y-Yeah. I-I'm fine." He didn't look convinced, but he shrugged it off and wrapped a few fingers around your wrist and his other hand in your elbow, to help raise you to your feet.
"If you insist. Come on, the block is starting Christmas." He pulled you to your feet, his laid-back pajama pants hanging loosely against his frame, knotted so tight, it looked like the entwining of hundreds of vines into one little ball. His shoulder blades held him up high, and you didn't hesitate to follow him, blushing at the feeling of him holding onto your wrist. He continued to pull you down the hall, all the way to the tree the block had set up, crappy as it may be. When Mycroft sat onto the small love-seat, he pulled you down beside him, both of you waiting for presents to be spread out. Everyone had chosen someone to give a gift to, and you were confident yours was coming from Anthony Convect. His unusual marigold pen had been used to cross out your, and only your, name. As gifts begun being spread, Mycroft handed you a small blue package. Not long after, your rose gold gift was handed to him, which he took the time while other gifts were being handed out to examine it, coming to the conclusion Stephani Jilthew (she was in love with him, poor girl) had given it to him, and it was obviously a book. Soon, everyone was tearing at their presents, all except for you. You carefully undid the wrapping you knew to be Mycroft's from the precise folding, until you reached a thin, rectangular jewelry box. You looked over to Mycroft to find him stunned, about both the false book you'd used to trick him, and the expensive umbrella-patterned tie, and professional 'M. Holmes', in his signature, stamp. He examined the hand written note, and you smiled at him when he looked over to you in confirmation. You returned your gaze to your gift after he looked down, and opened the box to find a silver chain necklace, with an etched amber-designed locket. You let out a soft gasp, as you opened the locker to find a small picture of your parents, and a tiny inscribed note saying; Love doesn't know the bound that is death. It was your locket, the one you'd lost all those years ago, and spent days crying over the broken pieces. You'd lived this day before, everything happened the exact same nine years ago, and yet, you were still as shocked as you were on the Christmas Eve it had happened. The only difference you could see was, a, you swore the wrapping paper had been orange, and b, there was a blue trim around the locket of a jewel you couldn't quite place. You still wished you could've had more days like you did in uni with Mycroft. Then again, those were the days everyone had just assumed you two were dating.
"My god, thank you Myc!" You lifted your head to be greeted with a dramatic change in scenery. It was Sherlock's flat, same tree and decorating from earlier that day. Sherlock watched you, expectingly, through his teal-grey eyes.
"Well?" You were confused. What exactly was happening here? Not five seconds ago you were back at uni with Mycroft, and now you were in Sherlock's flat?
"Well- what?" You blinked in complete confusion.
"Ah, yes. Sarcasm to fight for tradition, how utterly like you. I've already told you I couldn't wait to give it to you. Just open it already!" His eyes flicked down to the box held in your lap. Carefully unwrapping the tiny red box, trying to figure out where you'd seen the shape before. It struck you right before you finished opening it- it was a ring box. Before you, in your right mind, could process it, you'd already begun saying 'yes'. With a smile stretched across Sherlock's face, he leaned in, kissing you as he slipped the small band, trimmed with audacious rubies, onto your finger. You were so confused, but seemed not to be showing any of it. When the kiss broke, and you finally had the chance, you looked more closely around the flat. To your surprise, there were red decorations where there you had originally put indigo, blue, and teal ones. Sherlock didn't seem to notice how lost you were as he stood you up, and escorted you down the hallway. You didn't even notice you were in his bedroom, you were so lost in thought. The usual beige-grey with silver threading was there, but something was off about it. Lifting it up as Sherlock pulled off his shirt, you nearly gasped at what you saw. Since when was the threading red? You knew it had been silver. You even had to go buy the damn silver thread when you fixed it up for him! Sherlock climbed under the covers, looking at you strangely.
"Are you not going to sleep or something?" Pulled slightly out of your daze, you realized he had the covers open for you, and when you looked down, you saw your f/c nightgown covering you, "Christmas is tomorrow, and we're going to see John early in the morning, remember?" Not knowing what else to do, you slipped in with him, falling asleep to the comforting feeling of his fingers dancing through your hair. He didn't hold you particularly close, just held onto your hand with his right one, letting his left weave the h/c strands.
You woke up to someone mumbling sweet nothings in your ear, holding onto you tightly from behind, lips swiping fire heat over your cheek with each word, and stubble lightly brushing against your jawline.
"Mornin', love," A heavy Irish accent drawled as your lids lifted, "Merry Christmas." J-Jim? Forcing your eyes to adjust to the morning rays of light, you looked behind you to find a barely-awake consulting criminal laying with you. He smiled slightly through hooded eyes, and brought his lips to yours. The kiss was only a peck, but you knew something was off here. And not just the fact you swore you held fallen asleep at Sherlock's.
"Um, good morning, Jim." He stretched a bit, leaving you aching for the warmth of his body again.
"You know," he wrapped his arms back around you, this time with you huddled into his chest,"if we hurry, we might be able to get coffee before-" his thought was cut off by a fit of giggling throwing itself onto the bed with you two.
"Mum! Da! Father Christmas came!" A tiny voice shouted. One you recognized, too.
"Lukas?" The blue-eyed German orphan looked up at you, smiling brightly as he laughed with Jim. He was in a bowing position, one that looked like a puppy's play stance. He was wearing indigo pajamas (weird because his favorite colours were pink and green). Jim copied the young boy's look, and then smiled equally as bright
"Well then, we better get to the presents, then." They both sprang from the bed, you quickly scrambling to catch up as they took off down the hall. When you finally caught up to them in the foyer, Jim was holding an upside-down Lukas, swinging him like a grandfather clock. Pretty soon, Lukas was dropped, and immediately went to open the plethora of presents under the large Christmas tree. Looking around, you saw multiple things that were greatly out of place. For one, Jim's prized painting he usually kept safely in a golden frame, which no one was allowed to even suggest a frame-change, was now in a silver-and-indigo frame. Not only that, but there were numerous photos, what largely looked to be family photos, all over the place of you, Jim, and Lukas. Most shocking of all, however, was the center photo on the mantle piece. You were so taken aback, you didn't notice Jim coming to hug you from behind.
"I know, I think you look gorgeous in our wedding photo, too." He pressed a kiss to your cheek as you looked at the photo of yourself in an ivory dress, Jim holding you tightly in front of him, both of you smiling and looking into each other's eyes. You looked back over to Lukas, who was already trying to decide which gift to open first. You knew something was odd, you were just unable to place it at first.
"We adopted Lukas?" You asked, a smile crewing to your face. Jim looked at you a little oddly before he answered.
"Well, yeah. You love that kid, there was no way I wasn't going to raise him with you!" Through his confusion he smiled, and you leaned slightly into his embrace, letting your eyes fall closed to process it all.
When they opened again, you were back in your office. The sun had set, and your back slightly hurt from the awkward sleeping position.
"Bloody hell, that was a weird dream." You held your head as you thought it over. Though, through that, you knew. You had to decide, but suddenly, you already knew who you loved. Picking up your phone. And scrolling through your contacts, you chose the right one, and sent your message.

From You;
Meet me @ H. Park, 10 min?
~Ms.Perfect

... All that was left to do was wait.

Sherlock ending;

From Mad Hat Detective;
Near my case, anyway. See you there.
SH

Pulling on your jacket, and grabbing your purse, you headed out of the office and headed to Hyde Park. Over and over again, you considered what to say. You finally saw Sherlock standing by the frozen over lake, John shivering a few feet away. Continuing your trek a small distance farther, you said his name.
"Sherlock?" He turned to greet you, a look of total nervousness greeting you. Suddenly the words didn't matter. Reaching out, you took his hand in yours, smiling gently at him.
"You should've told me sooner, Sherlock..." His stoic expression faltered slightly at your words and soft, dulcet tone.
"Because, I love you, too." And that, was all he needed to hear.

Mycroft;

From Queen and Country;
I'll send a car.  ~M. Holmes

That was definitely a 'Mycroft' move. Reaching the outside of your office building, you immediately saw Mycroft's car waiting for you. As the drive dragged on, you pulled the necklace from your uni Christmas from beneath your shirt. Mycroft knew you better than anyone else. It wasn't a wonder why it was so easy for you to realize you loved him. The car pulled up to the usual parking garage, and you stepped out to find Mycroft already waiting, leaning on his umbrella. His eyes were instantly attracted to your necklace, and it made him smile a bit more.
"I applaud your way of telling me." Of course he'd be able to deduce your little sign. You both smiled for a bit, before he opened the other car's door for you, likely to take you home.

Moriarty;

From Moriparty;
Of course, see you there.  -King JM

You rushed down the stairs to the second floor, then to the door labeled 'H. Park MD', you  figured he'd already be there once you got there, but you needed a second to think of what to say. You and Jim had always had this spark, you'd always been able to see you two together. The only thing was his choice of employment. It terrified you, but you loved him. Hell, if you were brave enough to be his friend, might as well. Bracing yourself, you entered the room, and Jim turned around, greeting you with a forced smirk. His deep chocolate eyes made you forget everything you were going to say. Instead, you pulled him down to your level, one hand on the back of his neck, the other on his cheek, and kissed him. You were pretty sure he got the message.

For those of you who didn't get the symbolism...
Blue- Past
Red- Present
Indigo- Future
It's a common theme in the 'Christmas Carol' movie, too, its not too difficult to spot, either! Thanks for reading, love y'all!