You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

A Scandal in Belgravia: Chapter 5

"If you truly care, I'm completely fine and to be honest, I didn't stay because I didn't want to deal with you and this Irene mess." You blurted before turning on your heel and walking out. You left behind a very confused and flustered Sherlock.

When 3 o'clock finally came, you hurriedly got ready, walking out of your flat. You headed towards the door, not expecting Sherlock to come. You had lashed out at him and were frankly still not wanting to be around him at the moment. You weren't sure why, but you felt you'd be better off by yourself today. As you walked out the door and into the cool daylight, you gazed at your surroundings for a cab. You spotted one, flagging it down. You heard the door open behind you and glanced back, surprised to see Sherlock.

You didn't say a word, but silently climbed into the cab, him following. You told the cabbie the address then leaned back into your seat, casting your eyes out the window. Sherlock stayed silent, maybe sensing something was off. You weren't sure what was going on with you today, but Sherlock wasn't making it any better.

When you finally arrived at the lab, you marched straight to Mark's room, rapping softly on his door before entering. He was filling out paperwork when you entered and you nodded at him, stepping further into the room. He grinned at you, standing to envelop you in a large hug. His strong arms wrapped tightly around your body and you leaned into the hug, not completely imposing it. Sherlock cleared his throat behind you, which only made you lean into Mark's hug even more, rubbing your arms across his back.

"How are you?" He asked with a large smile, pulling back from the hug to tightly hold onto your shoulders.

"Good. I've been watched over like a hawk to insure I was healing correctly. Thank you for talking to me last night, I really appreciate it." You told him, not acknowledging Sherlock. Mark smiled in reply, before turning to Sherlock.

"And you must be Sherlock. I've heard a lot about you." Mark said in his friendly manor, going to shake Sherlock's hand. Sherlock reluctantly took it, and you shook your head at him, crossing your arms.

Mark got straight to the point and started preparing you for the fMRI. You removed all your keys and phone from your pockets, leaving them with him. You stripped down to your thin t-shirt and scrub pants before you laid down on the machine's bed. For some reason, your chest felt tight and you really didn't want to go inside the machine right now. You weren't sure why. You reminded yourself that you needed answers. Mark was sure having a friend around when you got the scan would show a more accurate reading of the activity in your temporal lobe.

You didn't communicate any of your nerves to either of them, but crossed your hands in your lap, staring a hole into the ceiling. Mark walked to size the machine to your head before he was ready to push you back into it, while Sherlock stood watching from behind a glass window.

"Don't be nervous." Mark whispered, placing his hand on top of yours. You glanced at him, trying not to show your uncomfortable feeling.

"I'm not." You replied, squeezing his hand for comfort. He smiled, shaking his head at you before going back to press the control switch to pull you back into the machine.

"Ready?" Mark's voice asked over the loudspeaker. You nodded, taking a deep breath. The bed started moving back into the machine and you tried your best not to move or show your worry. You closed your eyes lightly, taking in the smell of the room that seemed to calm you down. The machine started whirring and you stayed still, knowing the scan wouldn't come out correctly if you moved too much.

"Hey." Sherlock's voice softly spoke over the speaker and you let out a long breath, trying not to let your irritation rise. You didn't reply, but waited for him to continue. There was a long pause before he went on. "Listen... the whole thing yesterday. I apologize if I said something to you that may have bothered you." You listened to his sort of apology, it seemed like it was taking a lot of effort on his part to get the words out. You puckered your lips, thinking it over. You decided not to take his apology and sat silent, your hands at your sides.