Rekindling The Flame [ Sherlock x Reader ] Chpt. 1

“You are going to visit her.”

“No.”

Mycroft let out an irritated sigh, rubbing both his temples. His brother could be so childish. “Mother wants them at Christmas dinner. You must speak with her.”

Sherlock huffed, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. He was not going to go see you. He refused to to leave 221B. If his mother really wanted to see you, she would have to ask herself. He was not going.

“I am not going to see her. We have done quite well avoiding each other for the past-”

“Eight years, Sherlock. Eight years old.”

His jaw locked at the reference to William, body stiffening at the thought of the boy. Closing his eyes, Sherlock wondered if he could strangle his brother and get away with it. Probably...

“As I was saying,” he gritted his teeth, words laced with malice. “I will not be going to her.”

John bounded up the stairs to the his shared flat and was not surprised by the presence of Mycroft or his flatmate's frustration. “Where are you not going?” He asked as he passed the brothers to put away the milk that he had left earlier to retrieve.

Before Sherlock had the chance to answer, Mycroft answered, “Mother wishes to see her daughter-in-law, but Sherlock is against visiting his wife.”

John snorted coming from the kitchen out to stand between the Holmes brothers, a grin playing out across his lips. Wife? Sherlock? Ha! What kind of idiot did Mycroft take him for? Rubbing his jaw, John chuckled to himself before looking to Sherlock and seeing the serious look on his face. That made him stop. Sherlock wasn't denying it.

“Wait.. Is he being serious?” No response. “I'm sorry. You're married!? You are!? That is a twist I didn't see coming. Why have I never heard of her before?”

“Don't sound so surprised, John.”

“I have every right to be shocked. And you know it.”

Sherlock's brows knitted together in annoyance, snarling at his friend before switching his gaze to the reason for his anger. “Leave.”

“Not until you promise to see her. I will have a car waiting for you and John this evening. If you do not get in after five minutes, they will use any force necessary.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you,” Mycroft raised from the chair, nodded to John and left. John, still trying to process what exactly just happened, collapsed into his chair across from Sherlock. The room was deadly quiet until John finally spoke up.

“So,” he started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “you're married.”

“Yes.”

“When did this happen?”

“A long time ago.”

John nodded and tapped his chin thoughtfully before running a single hand through his hair with a shrug. “Okay. May I ask why?”

“No.”

“I see,” he inhaled deeply and leaned back to watch his friend. He was giving short answers, obviously still irritated from his brother's visit and John's questions were not helping calm him down. He was going to have visit you. After eight years, he has to just go back and ask if you want to have Christmas dinner with the family.

Having zoned out from the real world and delving into his thoughts, he didn't realize John was still talking. “-I mean this is big thing. And you never told me. That doesn't surprise me, but-”

“John, shut up.”

He stopped and looked at Sherlock, clearly not offended from having been told that multiple times, but still going to scold him for it. When he opened his mouth, Sherlock again cut him off.

“Go pack. We should be ready for this evening.”

John fought with himself to ask what he should be expecting when they get to wherever it was you were, but the distant expression on Sherlock's face told him he should just leave. That was what he did. He left Sherlock to his thoughts.

After eight years of fighting, I am going to see (Name) and William. Will she be happy? Probably not. Angry first, then she would be accepting of my visit. She looked so sad when I left. But it wasn't my fault. Yes it was. I left her that day so many years ago, but it was for a solid reason.  She had fallen back into the life I helped her get out of. And I...

Sherlock shook his head, got up and went to go prepare himself for what was to come.