The Exception (sherlock x reader)

Chapter 17: Reunion

You felt your breath catch in your throat.

The Woman

You didn't expect to hear that name leave Sherlock's mouth. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. I mean, here you are in a panic dragging out the letters that had damned you from the retched Moriarty. Everything and everyone that could come between you and your new friends were here threatening to pull down the life you were building on top of you.

"y/n," Sherlock's voice kept you from spiraling further into the frustration and self-pity that was consuming you. "did you know that..." his words trailed off. You could tell he didn't want you to know the Woman was not actually dead. He didn't want you to have lied to him.

You clenched your fists.

"I didn't know, but how? What does this mean?" Sherlock studied your face doing his best to try and read you. His stare was unsettling at the moment, the intensity behind them was different than you had experienced before when he tried to read you or when he was facing down a psychopath with a sniper trained on him. Seemingly satisfied, SHerlock turned his gaze from you and began walking through the door.

"A game is afoot." With his final remark, he quickly left your flat, leaving you speechless with a pile of letters from your psychopathic ex scattered around.

That night you dreamt of him, of Moriarty. You were sitting in the corner of a dark room, knees pulled to your chest as he paced in front of you. The words that spilled from his mouth were the same ones that he wrote in the letters. You were getting a live performance of them. You weren't looking directly at Moriarty, but you weren't avoiding his gaze either. Even in a dream, you felt far away, removed from what was happening.

"...Somehow boring yet indignant all at the same time," He was complaining and noticed how far away you seemed to be. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I SPEAK." he screamed at you immediately drawing your attention back to him. You met his gaze as he peered down at you, but something about his gaze was different. You were looking at Moriarty's eyes, but there was something about them that felt off, but you couldn't place it. His anger had quickly been extinguished, as he was always able to shift from murderous rage to business casual when he needed. He straightened up smoothing down the front of his suit as he did so. "Now that I have your attention, I think it's time we have some fun!" Fun could have a lot of different definitions, but none of them were going to meet any normal person's expectations. "You see Irene is doing just what I need her to, coming out of hiding was no coincidence mind you. She is the only one who can draw Sherlock's attention away from the important things, distract him, confuse him, fluster him. Oh, the poor boy just can't keep his head on right with her in the picture." He laughed coldly, never breaking eye contact. He tilted his head to the side, "But you know that already don't you. Here you are, nearly broken, hurt physically and emotionally, and all he can think of is her and the game. Oh, yes, the game. When you make the rules, it's impossible to lose." You stood up as the last words cut into you, knowing they had truth to them. 

You stood up to Moriarty, looking him dead in the eyes when you realized why they felt different. They were Sherlock's eyes. They were calculating but a bit less cold than Moriarty's and you found comfort staring into them. Moriarty chuckled at your realization and as he did his face morphed into Sherlocks then it changed again into the face of the American that has threatened your life twice now. The morphing of features made your vision spin, and keep spinning until the spin shifted to falling. 

With a start, you woke up. You usually didn't remember your dreams so each time you did it was usually something unsettling. And that had certainly shaken you. Slowly, you got up stretching a bit as you went. Light danced through the curtains of the windows high on the wall and entered your room at a harsh angle. It was probably mid-morning based on the amount of light so it seemed plenty ok for you not to go back to sleep, even if you wanted to sleep more you didn't think you'd be able to on the heels of that dream. As you lazy went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water you noticed something that hadn't been there the night before. You were used to letters appearing, but this wasn't a letter. It was a (insert your favorite flower) sitting on your small kitchen table. Underneath it there was a small note that read, You cannot stop him from destroying himself. - M xoxo