Sherlock Imagines and Preferences 2

Make It Stop

''Perfectly on time as always, Mr Holmes!'' the sweet nurse chirped. She wrote down his name and smiled up at him. ''You have two hours as usual.''

Sherlock nodded, mumbling a quick thank you before heading down the hall. He entered the brightly lit, white-walled room, a sunflower and teddy bear in his hand. 

He sat down in the plastic chair beside the bed and gently cradled your smaller hand in his, placing the stuffed animal next to your pillow.

He took a deep breath and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. No matter how often he visited you, it never got easier.

You were still sound asleep, your chest slowly rising and falling with each breath you took. The heart monitor beeped steadily.

He calmly stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, his hand still holding yours. As he stared at your peaceful face, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the times he shared with you.

~Flashback~

''What about him?'' you asked, pointing at a man sitting on the bench opposite yours.

''You make this too easy for me, (Y/N),'' Sherlock chuckled. ''Let's see. In his late thirties, recently divorced. His wife was a violent alcoholic and he could no longer be with her. He moved out, taking their child with him. He recently got a new job and is a heavy smoker, but trying to quit for his son.''

You stared at him with amazement. ''How do you do all of that?''

He smiled down at you. ''Practice, Darling. Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it soon.''

You bit your lip, staring at the stone pavement. ''Would you be upset if I didn't?''

''I have faith that you will, (Y/N). You're a Holmes after all.''

''Yeah, but I'm not as smart as you and uncle Mycroft! I'm just normal and boring.''

''You are anything but normal and boring, I can assure you. You just need to practise more.'' He pointed at a young woman walking by. ''Tell me about her.''

You sighed. ''I don't know.''

''Try,'' he urged.

You took a deep breath, staring at the woman intently. ''She's young...''

''Yes. Go on.''

''Uhm, there are small hairs on her jeans, so she probably has a dog or cat or something. Not too big, though. The hairs are only around her ankles, so a small pet.'' You bit your lip in focus, trying so hard to impress your dad and make him proud, but that was all you got out of this woman. You groaned in frustration. ''I don't know!''

He gently shushed you. ''Yes, you do. Look at her clothes. What do they tell you?''

You took another hard look. ''She's wearing an expensive pantsuit, so she must have some sort of important job that pays well.''

He kissed the top of your head, pulling you closer to him. ''See? You're perfectly capable of deducing.''

''Only because you helped me.''

''Nonsense, I merely gave you directions.''

You smiled up at him. ''I did get a few things, didn't I?''

''You did very well, (Y/N).'' He stood up, pulling you with him. ''A trip to the library before we go home?'' he offered.

~Flashback ended~

Sherlock sighed, moving a strand of hair out of your face. Your skin had adopted a greyish tint and your eyes were sunken in, dark circles underlining them. With every week that passed, your physical state deteriorated more and more.