BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock x Reader | Ideation

Description: Sherlock finds out you self harm, and have had thoughts of suicide. Features his talk about suicide from series 4.
Warnings: Trigger Warning, Suicidal Thoughts, Self Harm, Sad, Fluff, Swearing.
Word Count: 721
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It's part of me now, to always wear long sleeves and long pants. To reject swimming and never leave the house on warm days. Washing my hands with my sleeves down, flinching when someone touches my arm, never having sex in fear of the other person being repulsed at my bad habit.

I'm pretty good at hiding it, I keep most of everything to myself, so no one ever asks, really.

That was until today.

"Y/n?" Calls Sherlock from the dining table.

"Yes?"

"Could you come here a moment?" He asks. I set down my book and walk into the room. He pats the seat next to him and I sit next to him, folding my arms to my stomach.

"In the past while you've been with me, I've noticed things about you." He says.

"Like what?" I ask.

"You seem to only wear long sleeved shirts. I thought that could have been because it's too cold in here, so I turned the heat up, I even lit the fireplace, but you continued to wear them, and never wore a short sleeved shirt to cool off. It's the same with short pants. And when you do dishes, you don't roll up your sleeves, you just let them get drenched in water." He says.

I start to panic on the inside, but remain calm on the outside. I may be good at hiding from ordinary people, but Sherlock is not at all ordinary. His ability to pay attention to detail has been one of my fears of moving in with him, but I still thought I could hide it. I was stupid to think I could.

"So?" I say.

He reaches out to grab my arm and I stand up abruptly, shoving my arms behind my back.

"Y/n, give me your arm." He says.

"No. Why."

"Because I need to know."

"Know what?"

"Y/n don't play stupid with me."

I sigh and sit back down, hesitantly putting my arm out in front of me. Sherlock takes my trembling hand in his still one, and uses the other to roll up my sleeve, revealing years worth of scars running in all directions around my arm. I stare at my arm in shame, he shouldn't have to deal with this. No one should, I'm a lot more trouble than it's worth.

Sherlock just looks at them, for a long time. He'll probably leave me, everyone else has once they've seen them.

"Y/n, some of these look as if they were deep enough to well near kill you. Is that what they were intended to do?" He says calmly.

I nod slowly.

"You've tried to take your own life many times, am I correct?" He deduces.

"Yes." I whisper.

He stays quiet for a few moments, brushing my arm with the tips of his fingers, before abruptly standing up and walking to stand in front of the window.

"Taking your own life, interesting expression. Taking it from who? Once it's over, it's not you who will miss it." He says. I look at him confused.

"Your own death is something that happens to everyone else. Your life is not your own, keep your hands off it." He finishes.

I stare at him with an astonished expression. No one has ever said something like that after seeing my scars, they all either pitied me or were appalled with me. I never looked at taking my own life as something that would effect everyone else.

Sherlock turns to leave, and I grab him by his sleeve and pull him into a kiss. He puts his hands on either side of my face and kisses me back with passion.

He pulls away slightly after a moment.

"If I ever find you trying to leave this world, I swear to God—"

"I'm not leaving. Not anymore." I cut him off.

He smiles and I connect our lips again.

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I don't know about you guys but Sherlock's speech on suicide in series 4 really changed my thought on suicide.

And I'm trying to update more, I'm sorry!

May we meet again.

SW