Home- BBC Watson x Reader Chpt. 4

A Set Back

I haven’t seen (F/n) since Mycroft came to visit and that was nearly a week ago. I know she’s been out of his room since she sometimes cooks and leaves me a plate or the shower is wet from someone using it recently but it seems she’s careful not to do so when I’m around. I think it’s finally sinking in for her that he’s gone. A couple of times I went to check on her and heard her crying through the door… I know she doesn’t want to see me or anyone but I wish there was something I could do. She seems nice enough and I hardly think she deserves all this- none of us did.

I’m not sure which is worse- having her shut herself away and dealing with worry that comes with it or having her out and dealing with pain that rips through my chest over just how much she reminds me of him. Part of me wishes she’d never come here. It brings up so many feelings I’d rather not deal with but my therapist says it will be good for me to get to know her… to share the grieving experience with her. Whatever that means.


You needed to get out. It had been a week since Mycroft had come to visit and you had hardly left his room and never when John was around. The longer you stayed inside the dark cave of Sherlock’s room the more you hated everything and while you would gladly just wallow in grief for the rest of eternity, you knew John wouldn’t allow it and neither would Mycroft. It was for the best if you went out on your own accord.

You stared at yourself in the floor length mirror, tricking yourself for a moment that he was behind you- resting his chin on your head as he often had when he wanted you to hurry up. A pang of grief struck your chest and you turned away for a moment to let it pass before looking back at yourself with a new resolve. Shaking out your waist length hair, you did what you had to do before pulling on some black jeans and a white button down shirt over a pair of black converse, stepping in front of the mirror again. This time you were satisfied with what looked back at you and slipped out of the room, startling John in more ways than one, “(F/n)… What happened to your hair?”

You continued on your path to the door, grabbing your deep purple trench coat that looked black when the light wasn’t on it, flatly offering, “I needed a change and I’m not in the service anymore so I figured why not?”

He bounced up from his chair when you pulled the coat on, examining your new jaw length hair as he asked, “Are you going out?”

You turned to face him and he stopped breathing, the shortened hair and your piercing eyes making him feel like he’d just seen a ghost as you pulled a lavender scarf around your neck and announced, “I’m going to the Yard. Mycroft has that case and I need to get out. You are welcome to join me if you’d like.”

He stood frozen as you popped your collar with a small thoughtful smile, remembering your brother doing the same, before your face twisted into a pained frown and you spun to stalk out of the apartment. As soon as you were out of his sight, he recovered, bounding down the stairs after you just as a cab pulled up for the two of you to slide into.

You walked into the Yard like you owned the place despite the sneers and jeers accompanying the whispers over your ‘fraud genius’ brother- the only sign that it bothered you was a clenched jaw and the way your fingers discreetly fiddled with the edge of your sleeve. You weren’t going to have a breakdown in front of these people, hiding your tumultuous emotions away expertly just like your brother had always done. John braced himself when you got to the correct floor and literally almost ran into Anderson but it turned out to be unwarranted as you offered the man a weak half smile, “I see you’re still running around with that tramp partner of yours… I’ve told you time and time again she’s no good for you, Phil.”

He seemed startled to see you at first but a wide grin soon spread across his face, “I didn’t know you were back (F/n)!”

His face fell when you didn’t flash him your usual grin and he remembered that you’d lost your brother, “…Oh. I-I’m sorry about- you know-“

You shook your head, quickly cutting him off, “Don’t. Just... don’t. I’m not ready for that yet.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck as he nodded, “Well when you are… We can grab coffee or something.”

You flashed him a limp smile, letting it fall after only a second, “Sure.”

He shuffled away awkwardly and you moved to continue your path just as Donavan strode over, opening her mouth with a smirk, but you were quick to cut her off, “I suggest you rethink what you are about to say as I am not above breaking your nose in front of all these people before explaining to Lestrade where you were last night when you were supposed to be on a stake out.”

Anger flashed in her eyes but her mouth snapped shut as you calmly strode past her and into Lestrade’s office, stopping in front of his desk as he wearily sighed, “What is it?” without looking up.

“An umbrella carrying birdie told me you could use a hand.”

Lestrade’s eyes snapped up at the sound of your voice, paling when he caught sight of you as his jaw dropped, “(F/n)?”

Leaning your palms on his desk, you gave a small sad smile and sighed, “Hey Lessy.”

John had never seen the man move so fast, practically leaping over his desk to envelope you in a hug, “When did you get back? Are you- how are you?”

Glad for something familiar, you leaned into him without actually returning the hug as you mumbled, “I’ve been better.”

He pulled back from you slightly to give you a confused look, “I thought you still had another year before you were to be discharged. What happened?”

“Short version-I got myself shot like an idiot.”  

He frowned at you, pushing you back to look you over a little more carefully before looking over at John, “I see you’ve met Watson.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “My brother has deemed him my babysitter. I suppose it’s fitting… but hardly ideal for either of us. No offense, John.”

He shook his head, “None taken.”

Lestrade toyed with a piece of your hair, noticing that it was shorter than you’d ever had it in all the time that he'd known you, as he asked, “Are you sure you’re up for this (F/n)?”

Sherlock would have never admitted it but you both had liked Lestrade, you viewed him as sort of an older brother after having worked with him for so long and he came to you for advice when things had started to go south with his wife. You were close but right now you didn’t care about his concerns as you firmly nodded, “I need a distraction.”

He pursed his lips and handed you a folder, watching you sigh as you looked it over for a split second and then glared at him, “The wife did it but you already knew that. Stop testing me, Greg.”

John gaped, you’d barely even looked at the file’s contents before coming to that conclusion, and Lestrade traded you for another file as he sheepishly offered, “I had to be sure.”

You flipped this one over, taking your time, and then softly hummed, “I need to see the bodies… St. Bart’s?”

“Yes but-“ Lestrade started but you had already turned on your heel to stalk off like your brother had often done and he sighed, “That’s new.”

John tilted his head at him, “What do you mean?”

“She’s not normally so brusque. She and Sherlock were each other’s counterparts… He was cold and she was warm but they were bound together with the same level of intelligence. It made them the perfect crime solving duo… where one would lack the other made up for it.”

John just nodded and Lestrade waved a hand, “Better catch up to her. She’ll be waiting.”