White Rose / Sherlock Holmes x Reader Fanfiction

Chapter Four: The Beginning of the Dream

The sweet sad music echoed through the flat as Mrs. Hudson took the tea tray up. She felt her eyes fill at the heart wrenching notes, wondering what Mr. Holmes was thinking about now. She pushed open the door, not bothering to knock and saw the silhouette beside the fire.

The music stopped abruptly. "Is Watson back yet?"

She sighed. What was she expecting, a thank you? "No Mr. Holmes. Not yet." He stood still for a moment before shrugging and putting the violin back on his shoulder. "Mr. Holmes?" His bow stopped, on the verge of hitting the strings. "What are you thinking about? It's so...so sad. I don't know how to describe it. Lonely? Heartbreaking?"

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson. I'll see you tomorrow." The music commenced. She groaned, throwing up her hands and left the room, shutting the door with a bang.

The music stopped and he put the instrument down. He turned around and stared at the tea. What had he been thinking about?

He sat down in his chair and picked up his pipe. Watson would be back in approximately two hours so he had some time to continue thinking. Mycroft would have sent the location of their old house so Watson would have seen the roses. Were the bees he had kept with her still there? He shook his head. Stick to the facts Sherlock, the facts. Not the past. He breathed out the smoke and rubbed his temples. She used to do that for him. When he was stressed or confused, she would see it written on his face. He could remember her cool fingertips rubbing his temples, kissing his eyebrows.

"No! No no no!" He shouted and bit on his pipe. He took a deep breath. "I'm not going to think about her anymore. I reminisced all morning already. Come on Sherlock! Shut her out! Back into her room!" He fumbled, trying to lock her back up in his mind palace. "Daisy, where's her room?"

He took the feeling, her fingertips, her lips, and bundled it up before opening the door ever so slightly. And stumbled back at the soothing feeling. Her eyes, her voice, her lips trailing down his neck.

He quickly got out of the chair and stumbled towards the bedroom door. "Out! No!" Her whispers of love. "Go away!" Her smile when he put her fingertips to his lips.

The bedroom door slammed as he slumped against it. His knees came up and his hands tugged at his hair.

"Just let go." He heard her whisper, his body relaxing, his eyes closing. A cloudy mist rose over his eyes.

A woman sitting in a lounge chair before him, clad in a light green dress, her face turned away. He blinked. "I've been here before." He said, but no one looked his way. Children were giggling and he frowned at them in distaste. His brother suddenly materialized next to him.There was a woman with him, her hand on his arm, her body unusually close to him. She was leaning against him slightly and looking at something in the distance.

"My dear, this is my brother, Sherlock." His voice seemed to echo, matching the blurry scene.

She turned to face him. He felt the world quieten, sharpen, his mind numb and his heart stop and race at the same time. She smiled politely and then her lips pressed together, a look of amusement on her face.

"A pleasure to meet you Miss." He managed to say, trying to keep his character. "And your name may I ask?"

"Daisy." The word seemed to spill from her lips. Oh, those lips. Oh, that voice! She blushed. "I mean, you have a daisy in your hair."

"(Y/n) please keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't insult anyone?" His brother said. She nodded at his brother as he squeezed the little hand on his arm before she let go. Sherlock felt a pang as she followed him.