The flat was incredibly quiet without her around.
Sherlock blamed himself for her absence; he brought up the idea of her facing her husband, to take back control of her life. How could he not have seen it before?
Of course, she'd run straight back to him.
Sherlock glared at the wall, then picked up the handgun on the side table. He cocked it, pointed it at the wall, and shot, whispering 'bored' to himself. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Bored!" Another shot. "BORED!" another.
Footsteps could be heard climbing the staircase to his flat. Mrs. Hudson opened the door and stormed into his flat. "What on earth are you doing, Sherlock?"
"I'm bored," he replied.
"Haven't I told you too many times to not shoot my wall when you're bored?"
"The wall always has it coming, Mrs. Hudson."
The elder sat down in John's chair, staring at the sulking man curled up in his seat. "I can tell that you miss her."
"Please leave the deductions to me, Mrs. H-"
"Sherlock, just listen to me for once," she sighed. "I've lived a long time, and I know when someone is missing someone else.
"You get moody. I remember when John was gone on a business trip, you moved his seat out of anger and pouted for a week until he came back. You're doing the same thing now with (Y/N) gone; shooting the wall and pouting like a child."
"I am not acting like a child." he defended.
"Yes, you are, dear." Mrs. Hudson smiled softly. "Why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"
He was silent, before lifting his gaze to look at Mrs. Hudson. A singular tear ran down his cheek. "It's all my fault," he whispered.
"What are you blaming yourself for?"
"I drove her back into his arms," Sherlock continued. "I suggested that she take charge of her life and get the divorce. He manipulated her again, just like before."
His gaze had moved to the floor. He wouldn't cry in front of Mrs. Hudson.
"Sherlock, dear," the elder lady crouched down in front of him, gently holding his hand in comfort. "I'm going to repeat myself again, 'What are you blaming yourself for?' It's not your fault that she chose to stay, just like it isn't your fault that he manipulated her into staying again."
"But Mrs. Hudson, I could have prevented-"
"I've known you for a few years now, Sherlock. You bottle it all up, but I'm telling you now, let it all out."
Just hearing those words, knowing someone was there for him, allowed him to let go of everything. He cried, and Mrs. Hudson held him, never leaving his side. She rubbed his back, constantly whispering, "It's alright dear, let it all out."
John was back later that afternoon, and Sherlock was sitting in his chair, fingers folded under his chin as he was in his mind palace. He strolled into the kitchen, putting away the groceries away in the cupboards, moving the severed head to a different shelf in the refrigerator so he could store the produce. "Sherlock, you really need to finish up your severed head experiment or I'm throwing it out next week."
He heard shuffling in the living room. "You wouldn't," Sherlock replied.
John smiled as he threw the plastic bag away. "Try me."
The two were locked in a staring contest until John walked past Sherlock into the living room, sitting down in his chair. Sherlock turned at studied his flatmate suspiciously. "You're in a good mood," he stated.
"I am," John confirmed, opening the morning's news. Sherlock continued staring.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." another voice chimed in, causing both men to look towards the sound of the voice.
(Y/N) was standing in the doorway, a smile on her face. Sherlock was the first to react.
"You're back," he whispered.
She nodded, and Sherlock embraced her. They stood like that for a while until John cleared his throat. "It's nice to see you again, (Y/N)."
"It's nice to see you too, John." she smiled, leaving Sherlock's embrace and entering the flat. Taking a seat on the couch, Sherlock was the first to ask her how the meeting went. "It went okay, I'm not dead. He was a little shocked at first, but he handled it well."
"This is Moriarty we're talking about," the detective commented. "He'll have something up his sleeve."
"You're just paranoid," John said.
"And you're just idiotic, John," Sherlock growled.
"Sherlock Holmes!" (Y/N) replied, glaring at the curly-haired detective. "Be nice to John."
He rolled his eyes up at the ceiling and frowned. "You know I missed you." He finally spoke.
(Y/N) smiled and shifted her gaze to the detectives. "I missed you, too."
Sherlock smiled and watched his fingers while John sighed. "Sherlock."
The detective's head shot up, a smile still on his face. John gestured at (Y/N) with his eyes, and suggested, "maybe you two should go out to celebrate your reunion."
"That's a wonderful idea, John." Sherlock stood up from his chair and shrugged on his coat. "(Y/N), would you like to come with me?"
"Of course," the (H/C) woman replied, picking up her purse off the floor next to the door. "I'd love to spend some time with you."
He offered her his arm, and together they walked out of 221b to enjoy the night.
Falling fast, breathing slow, time is up, the end is just a dream
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A.N: Another update, since it's getting close to the end. Plus, I really like this chapter cause of sassy Sherlock and emotional Sherlock. I like writing it.
Plus, can we talk about the lyric I chose? How perfect is it for reaching the climax?
Remember, there is a Q and A at the end of this story, so please comment your questions on this chapter and the next two to come.
Please comment, vote, and share!
Until next time,
~Em
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Youngblood
Fanfiction(Y/N) Moriarty is unhappy in her marriage. She knows Jim's been cheating on her with his co-workers, and so she leaves him. She meets Sherlock, her husband's arch-enemy, and both are intrigued by each other. They find true happiness in each other an...
