Sherlock One-Shots and Preferences

Supernatural Crossover - Not Your Time

I've spliced this, two requests by @TheCrAzY_FaNGuRl and Itsme_221B

-disclaimer- This is a Supernatural crossover. And also very sad. ;)

No one liked hospitals. Who does? Its a place where you're saved or you die. A place where you watch others be saved or die. A place where death roams the clean hallways and visits rooms, he'll close the door listening to the quiet click of the lock, and once the door opens again a hollow body awaits to be discovered. That is if he gave his little reapers a break. He would often do that sometimes when he just wanted to feel like his old self. Of course you knew that because you had had chats with him before, back when you worked with the Winchesters.

The subtle beep of hospital equipment brought you out of your thoughts, you hadn't been sleeping but your eyes were closed. When they opened, the two Holmes brothers were sitting at the edge of your feet, each in their own mind palaces. They had been with you every moment since you arrived in the hospital, they were probably crossed with you since you hadn't said anything before this. 

 Late stage Multiple Myeloma Cancer was what put you in that bed. You didn't bother getting it treated ASAP because it was already so far gone when you found out that you knew even the strongest of treatments would do nothing. Besides, if you were going to die you wanted to look pretty. Not hairless, unhealthily skinny from not being able to eat much and looking like crap in general. Thats why you had made your decision now while you still had a bit of energy. 

"Sherlock..." You hoarsely called his name, usually he would have a delay answer or not even answer at all being so caught up in his mind palace but his mop of curls immediately shot up, his tired blue eyes trained on you. "Yes?" 

"May I use your phone please?" You asked softly, of course he obliged.

It took you a few numbers, but someone finally picked up, a voice you hadn't heard in a long time.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dean...How are you and Sammy?" You hummed quietly.

"We're okay, just uh...you okay?" Dean cleared his throat, somehow sensing the tension and sickness in your voice. 

You paused a moment then replied. "Not really, I've got myself in a pickle..." you chuckled slightly. "I need your help...do you think you and Sam could come down here, to London?" 

"W-what on a plane?" Dean stuttered, anxiety swirling in his voice.

"Please Dean, it may be the last time I see you two." You said quietly, with a sigh you quietly explained your untimely predicament. 

Before long Sam and Dean were on a plane to London to Dean's horror, and rushing to get to the hospital that you had said you were in. Sherlock and Mycroft got a little story about who Sam and Dean were, just your long time friends that you really wanted to see. Of course they would think you're bananas crazy if you gave them the 'monsters are real and I hunt them' chat.

You got up to use the washroom, taking a while since everything was fragile inside you, a nasty fall could break countless bones. When you came back outside the Holmes were shaking hands with the Winchesters, an odd yet satisfying sight. 

"Sam, Dean." You smiled softly, their eyes widened as they saw you and they immediately went to embrace you, but took caution at Sherlock's bellow to be careful and very gently hugged your weak frame. "How is this happening?" Sam said quietly, obviously taking in that you were dying and that made him very upset. "I guess God intended for this to happen." You smiled cheekily. "Oops, Chuck I mean, that bastard." You whispered just loud enough for him and Dean to hear. 

Seeing the attitude of the room was somber, you suggested to take a walk outside. "While I still can, it's good for everyone." You smiled softly and rolled your IV along with you as none of the men could say no. Mycroft rolled a wheelchair in case you got tired, but when you finally got outside and felt the sunshine on your skin it felt rather nice. Nothing could make you want to go back inside.

Walking to a nice little patch of grass, you sat down by the sidewalk since the IV wouldn't do good on the grass. One by one, the men sat down beside you silently.

"Its been a good life...wouldn't you guys agree?" You hummed after a little bit of silence.

"Now you don't need to start saying that rubbish..." Mycroft said quietly after the men exchanged looks of worry.

"Mycroft." You tisked, "We both know I won't be here for much longer." You paused and blinked slowly, feeling sluggish. "Thats why I wanted you guys to be here with me. I need you all to move on...don't try to bring me back either because you all are more important than me and need to keep doing your jobs to help more people." In your little speech you had leaned on Sam's shoulder, your eyes even more heavy. Sam noticed you leaning on him, a little too much which worried him. "Y/N?" He asked softly, he tried to shake you slightly thinking you were tired and needed a little jerk, but when you fell back into the soft grass the men because increasingly worried.

Sherlock's eyes darted over your body, he deduced you though you always asked him to not. "What have you taken, what have you taken!" Sherlock growled and searched your pockets of a cardigan you wore over your hospital gown. Inside he grabbed an empty bottle of sleeping pills and laid it flat in his palms for the other men to see. 

"Damnit Y/N...HEY WE NEED A MEDIC-" Dean yelled, shaking your shoulder to try to keep you awake. He knew if you fell asleep you would never wake up again. 

"Dean don't...please.." You whimpered quietly, struggling to keep your eyes open as sam held you up against him, lying down simply made it worse. "I don't want to die with a bunch of machines around me, and ugly and bald..." 

The men swallowed the lumps in their throats almost simultaneously. Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but was at  a loss for words. He understood that this was they way you wanted it to be. 

"You guys...you guys are my family...I want to be with my family." You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat too. "I love you all so much..."

"Shut up- everything will be okay-" Dean muttered going into denial. Sam was first to shed a tear, it dropped onto your cheek and slid down, it felt warm. "Come now Sammy, don't cry..." your hand lazily made its way to caress his cheek, wiping away another tear that escaped his eye. Your other hand gently held sherlocks and gave it a light squeeze. "Your beautiful faces shouldn't be shedding tears. Smile for me...all of you." You swallowed hard again and closed your eyes, tears sliding down your cheeks as you slumped more against Sam, your arm limply falling and hand no longer giving Sherlocks gentle squeezes. They knew you had passed on, the brothers knew a reaper or even Death himself had come and taken her away. Each man their was at their worst, holding you, wearing, sobbing, they growled at any nurse or doctor that tried to take Y/N from them. After the initial grief, the brothers relied on one another respectively to comfort each other, perhaps bringing them even closer. Lord knows Sherlock and Mycroft needed a good kick in the arse to appreciate one another. 

And after the funeral, Sam and Dean returned to America, they started hunting again and proceeded with life, but they smiled more. Why? Because a woman by the name of Y/N told them to, it was her last dying wish after all. 

The Holmes took a while to smile more, they were bitter that you had asked such a ridiculous request, but when they saw the after effects of smiling more they learned that you had cheekily tricked them into making more people like them. Sneaky they called you. But really in her last moments, all Y/N wanted to see was her handsome friends giving her a nice smile, reassuring her that whatever was ahead of her, she would be okay. Just like they had grown to be.