Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

XXX • 30

Sherlock came back downstairs half an hour later, having showered, shaved, dressed and eaten.

You and Kenzie had stayed in your flat, just hanging out. You'd been talking about a pub in Scotland that the two of you had frequented, when there was a soft knock on your door.
You got up and opened it, fully expecting to see John, or perhaps a delivery man, although you couldn't remember ordering anything.
You were shocked when you saw Sherlock standing there.
"Can you come upstairs for a minute?" He looked at you with an emotion you'd never seen before, and couldn't quite place, in his eyes.
"Yeah." Turning around, you addressed your friend. "Kenz, I'll be back in a moment."
You followed him up the stairs and into his flat when he opened the door for you.
"What's up?" You asked.
He stood very close to you, and when you backed up, he came a little closer.
He wasn't threatening in anyway, but it was worrying you slightly. He wasn't looking you in the eyes.
"Sherl, what's going on?"
He looked up, his face maybe ten inches from yours, at most.
"(F/N), I don't know what he's going to do to me. It could be bad. He wants to destroy me and I haven't completely figured out his game yet."
For the first time, the severity of what he was trying to say hit you full force.
"You think he's going to try to kill you?" You asked, the colour draining from your face.
He looked down again. "I don't know, (F/N). There's no way of knowing."
"You can't let him, Sherlock!" You raised your voice, becoming frantic.
His hand rested on your cheek again, calming you.
"(F/N), I just need you to know. Back at the hospital, I want you to know I didn't do what I did to convince you. I did it because I really do love you, and I don't know what he's going to do to me." He looked sad, like perhaps this was the last time he'd talk to you.
"No Sherlock, don't talk like that. You're going to get him, you're going to win."
He smiled, equally sad. "God, I hope you're right."
"Of course I'm right! I'm not going to allow him to destroy you. You're mine and I'm not letting you go. It was my fault to begin with. I should've listened to you when you said he was dangerous. So now I'm going to fix this." You turned to leave, resolve plastered across your face, but he caught your arm.
"(F/N), you can't go out there yourself. He was going to kill you already, and he won't hesitate to do it again."
"What else do you expect me to do?" You asked, pleadingly. "I'm not going to let you die fixing something that I started."
"(F/N), you didn't start this. He's been trying to get to me since the cabbie."
"But I gave him a channel to you!"
He couldn't say anything to contradict this. "But (N/N), I'm not going to let you go out there. I won't allow it because I love you."
"That goes two ways, Sherlock! Why should I let you go out there? I love you."
He hung his head, but his thumb ran down your cheek then back up.
"(F/N), I need to do this. Moriarty wants me. I have a plan and I will do my utmost to win. But you can't reason with a man like him. He'll kill anybody just to get what he wants, and I'm not going to let that happen to you." He looked up at you, his eyes pleading.
You looked away. You wanted to argue, you wanted to finish what you'd started. But he was right, and you knew that.
"Sherlock..." You turned back toward him, not sure what to say.
He had nothing left to say either, so he just stepped closer and kissed you.
You weren't exactly gifted with height, so you stood on your toes, your hands on his shoulders.
Even when he pulled away, he didn't go very far, so that when he spoke, his lips brushed against your cheek.
"I love you, (F/N). You've made me a better person and I wouldn't give you up for the world. I just want you to know that."
"I do. I do know that, Sherlock. Try to be safe." You gave him a small smile, then turned away.
"I'm going to Bart's now. I'll see you later." He said, as you headed back downstairs.
"Okay. Bye." You said, weakly, as you watched him pull his coat on, then leave. You had a gnawing feeling in your stomach that this trip to Bart's was more than he'd let on.