Sherlock Imagines

Too Far (Part 2)-Sherlock

Sherlock was at a loss for words. No noise escaped his mouth as he stared down at the headstone in front of him with your name on it. Silent tears flowed down his cheeks as he thought of you. He turned around and faced his brother, anger evident in the consulting detective's eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked roughly.

"It was a delicate matter Sherlock. I didn't want to tell you immediately." Mycroft defended.

"You promised me that you would keep her safe until I got back!" Sherlock shouted.

"I did what I could Sherlock but I wasn't able to stop this." Mycroft said his voice cracking as he started to get upset as well.

Sherlock looked as if he was about to break. Like a piece of glass ready to shatter into a million pieces.

"What happened?" Sherlock asked shakily.

Mycroft sighed as he started to think back to the horrible night.

-Flashback-

You sat in your chair shaking violently from crying. You didn't want to feel these emotions anymore. You pushed yourself up from the chair and slowly made your way to the table where your gun sat. You picked it up and stared down at it. You never thought that this would ever happen but it did. You wanted to make the pain stop. You didn't know how you had dealt with it for so long. You were about to actually do it but then you heard a banging coming from downstairs. You backed away from the table until your back was against the fireplace. Mycroft entered the room and he looked absolutely horrified.

"Y/n. Put the gun down." He said holding his hand out in front of him.

"I can't deal with this pain anymore Mycroft." You said as sobs escaped your lips.

"Y/n, you can't do this to yourself."

"Sherlock did." You countered.

Mycroft didn't know what to say after that. It took him a moment before he knew what to say.

"But I know my brother. He wouldn't want you to end it this way." Mycroft said. "So, please just set down the gun." He said as if he were begging.

You couldn't refuse. It seemed nearly impossible. You dropped the gun in your seat and collapsed into Mycroft's arms. He wasn't expecting it but he seemed to melt into it and stroked your hair.

"Thank you, Mycroft." You whispered.

"For what?" He asked.

"For being here for me." You answered.

"I would never let anything happen to you. My brother cared about you too much." He said smiling down at you.

"I know." You said.

You let go of Mycroft and backed away. You stared at the gun sitting in you chair. You knew what you wanted to do.

"But I'm sorry." You said barely audible but Mycroft heard.

His eyes widened as you reached for the gun. He lunged forward trying to stop you but you pulled the trigger. Mycroft caught your limp body and stared down at you. He started to cry after that. Mycroft Holmes started crying. He gently laid you down on the ground and turned away. He had failed his younger brother and one of his closest friends. Yes, friend. Mycroft considered you a friend which is why it made it so much worse to see you end you own life.

-Present-

Sherlock stood there horrified at the story of how you died. He understood know why you did it and it hurt him more than a thousand bullets.