Dark Secrets (Sherlock x Reader)

Back To Scotland

!Just a warning before you read this! 

This chapter contains sensitive content concerning seeing the body of a family member who's passed away. If this triggers you in any way, I suggest you skip this chapter. I made sure this chapter is skippable without you missing anything that's vital to the plot of the story. Stay safe, everyone

~

Sherlock had offered to come with you to Scotland, knowing you'd need emotional support despite the tough attitude you kept building back up after each breakdown.

You wanted to refuse, but you simply couldn't bring yourself to say no. Deep down, you realised you needed someone to help you through this.

Usually, you'd eat, sleep and shower in your own flat, but ever since you got the phone call, you started doing these things at his flat more often. You didn't want to annoy him, knowing he valued personal space.

It helped you deal with your loss. Being around Sherlock comforted you without him even having to try. So you made his flat your temporary home. He didn't seem to mind.

Sherlock had been very protective these past few days. He was constantly by your side, making sure you were taking care of yourself. He made sure you got at least a few hours of sleep every night and helped you out whenever you needed to take care of something regarding the investigation of your father's death.

It got a little annoying from time to time, but you valued and appreciated his support.

It had been a full week since you received the news of your father's passing and the time had finally come for you to fly to Scotland.

After several nightmares concerning your trip, you had finally allowed Sherlock to come with you as a source of comfort and support.

Sherlock had taken it upon himself to solve this case and get the one who murdered your father behind bars for the rest of their days. You had initially refused his help, you wanted to solve this yourself. This was your family and your home, but your current state made it more difficult to think clearly at times and on some days, you couldn't even get out of bed.

Sherlock eventually convinced you to combine your strengths and solve this case as quickly as possible.

You knew he'd prove to be useful when it came to investigating. You didn't trust the police with this case, it was too personal to you. Together, you and Sherlock would figure this out in no time.

The suitcase you shared for this short trip trailed behind the two of you as you exited Glasgow International Airport.

You both still had some more travelling to do before you'd reach the city where you had grown up.

Spending the night at your childhood home wasn't an idea you were fond of, even though it was now yours. So, you and Sherlock decided to stay at a hotel that was close to the hospital and your old home. That way it would be easy to visit the morgue and then continue your journey to the crime scene.

Sherlock put the suitcase in the trunk of the cab and then joined you in the backseat.

After a short, yet anxiety filled ride, you arrived at the hotel.

You handed the driver some cash before quickly stepping out and heading to the lobby, Sherlock following suit.

''You look tired,'' Sherlock noted as you checked them in. ''Perhaps you should lie down for a nap before we head to the morgue and crime scene.''

You shook your head. ''There's no time for that, Sherlock. We need to get this done.''

''How will you get things done when you're too tired to think?''

''I'm not that tired, I'm fine.''

''You haven't slept properly in days.''

You sighed. ''Please, Sherlock. I don't want this to turn into another argument. I have enough on my mind.''

He nodded. ''I know. I'm just trying to be helpful.''

''I appreciate it, but I just want to head over to the morgue and get it over with.''

''Do you want to take a look at the crime scene immediately after?''

Images of your childhood home flashed through your mind. You shuddered and fought back oncoming tears.

''Hey, you alright?'' he asked, worry etched into his voice.

''I'm fine. But perhaps we shouldn't do everything today,'' you admitted.

''How about we get our suitcase to our room, head out to the morgue and start our investigation tomorrow? I think seeing your father will be difficult enough.''

You nodded. ''Yeah.''

~

The white doors that led to the morgue stood in front of you. You stared at them, a haunting feeling overtaking you.

In your career, you had visited the morgue countless times. It had never scared you before, but this time was different. Inside was your father's body. You would have to look at his face, the face you hadn't seen since you left Scotland, and conclude it was him. You weren't prepared for this and you never would be. You hated being unprepared. Things could catch you off guard if you were.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, squeezing Sherlock's hand for reassurance.

He knew what you were going through. He had to go through the same thing with his mother not even a year ago. He handled it differently, though. In truth, he had never even given himself time to grieve. He just didn't think about it.

At the time, he had refused to see his mother's body in her casket at the funeral. He had refused to give a speech and wouldn't utter a single word about her. It was horrible, but it was the only way for him to deal with his loss and the pain it left behind.

He didn't dare cry at the funeral or at his dad's house. Mycroft would never have done that, so Sherlock couldn't do it either. They were the Holmes brothers. Keeping their composure was vital.

Your approach was different. Though you tried to block your feelings out, you simply couldn't do it anymore. You were left to deal with your grief unlike what you had done all those times before when someone you cared about passed away.

You took a deep breath and stood taller, trying to give off the illusion of confidence to those around you and yourself. You nodded at Sherlock, telling him to open the door. You were as ready as you could be.

An elderly man in a lab coat smiled gently at you, walking over to the table in the middle of the room. ''Ready, miss?''

You nodded, clenching your jaw. You let go of Sherlock's hand and approached the table.

Sherlock stayed behind out of respect for you and your family.

''Miss (Y/L/N), all I need you to do is identify the body. Then you're free to leave or say your goodbyes. That's up to you.''

You were shaking but told the coroner to lift the sheet.

He carefully peeled the sheet back, revealing your father's face. His complexion had a grey tinge to it, his lips chapped and his eyes sunken in.

You shuddered and quickly looked away, signalling to put the sheet back in place. You'd seen hundreds of dead bodies in your life, but this was nothing like all those other times. ''That's him,'' you choked out. ''That's my father.''

''Thank you, miss (Y/L/N). That's all we need.''

You rushed out of the room and ran outside, desperate for some fresh air. You took a few deep breaths, fighting to get the image of your father out of your head. You felt a pair of hands wrap around you, pulling you upright.

''It's over,'' Sherlock soothed.

You nodded, tears brimming your eyes. You blinked them away. ''Let's go back to the hotel,'' you whispered.