The Girl In 221C-Sherlock x Reader Ch.6

    Baker street was awfully quiet when you returned home, the only sounds the buzzing of street lamps and the put-put of the cabbie driving away.
  How late is it?
You mused to yourself, eyelids suddenly heavy. You drifted up to 221B to embrace your brother and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before retreating to your own flat downstairs. From the hall, where you were squinting at the lock and poking around with your key to find it, you could here John protesting to Sherlock about leaving him behind.
    "My little sister, Sherlock! Why didn't you come get me? You just had to go alone and be a show off! Why didn't you call me, or at least text me or something, you prick?!"
    "The situation was totally under control!"
    "Under control?!?! With only you there-"
 As you emerged into your cool, dark, living room, a grin played on your lips. Sometimes they bickered like an old married couple.
    You threw off your shirt and pants and then unhooked your bra and shimmied it over your head, diving right underneath your sheets in just your tank top and panties, forgoing any teeth-brushing or face-washing. It was late and you were too exhausted to do anything.

*                                        *                                            *

"Good morning! How's my two boys doing?"

Sherlock was lying on the couch with his hands pressed together under his chin, deep in thought. John was munching on a piece of toast while reading the paper and you bent down and kissed him on the forehead. 

"Morning, Name."

You noticed Mrs.Hudson was in the kitchen making tea, and you went and greeted her, and helped hand out cups when it was ready. After placing the steaming tea onto the coffee table, you lifted up Sherlock's legs and slid onto the sofa, letting him rest his feet on your lap. He opened his eyes suspiciously to glance at you for a second, but then resumed meditating on his thoughts. 

"Bye, sweetie! And try to get them to clean up this place, they always expect me to do everything, and I'm-"

"Not their housekeeper" you finished for her

"Quit right!" 

You waved her goodbye and then began to hum to yourself in between sips of tea, looking out the window. Sherlock was actually being boring for once in his life, and you didn't really know what to do.

"So, John..."

"Hm?"

"What's the plan for today?"

He looked up from the paper and set it down to have a sip of tea.

"Well, we sit and wait for him to finalize all closing details of the last case, text Greg, and then... we find another."

At this, the Holmes jumped up, pulled out his phone, furiously texted Lestrade something, and then threw it down. When Sherlock actually looked at you, his expression looked somewhat peeved at your features.

"What?-"

"John! You better help your sister. You're the doctor."

    You suddenly felt the throbbing pain of your varying burns, bruises, and cuts, and you looked down horrified at your wrists which had much of the skin rubbed off from when you attempted to get free. You whimpered, and your brother rushed to grab his first aid kit. While he gathered his materials you watched Sherlock, noticing how out of place and awkward he looked at the fact that you were now crying. You sniffed and wiped away your tears, not wanting to act like a baby in front of him, but he surprised you when he scooted over to you and placed a hesitant hand on your back. It was a nice gesture, but it was almost comical for him. He stayed by your side as John bandaged you, and you realized that although Sherlock Holmes was the most in-human, stoic person you had ever met, he was a very loyal friend.