Good morning, everyone! Today’s Thursday, and it’s
meteorfire here with the theme of the day. It’s been wonderful hosting for you guys!
Today’s theme is one of my favorites in fiction, to be honest. I guess that makes me sort of a morbid person. Anyways, the new theme is Death! Anything related to death goes. Funerals, character death, death AS a character,
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It's finally when he has the time to breathe that he remembers.
Perhaps it's the time he sees a woman walking down the street, thick hair curled down her back wearing a dress so red it blinds him for a moment.
Don't you dare be late. Understood?
He walks to the club on feet heavier than lead just to hope that maybe...just maybe miracles happen when so much terrible exists as well. He isn't sure how he's supposed to feel when he sees a cheap liquor store in it's place, but fire coils deep in his gut.
He breaks through ten punching bags that evening, cries hot tears into his pillow (he's a child being bullied again and Bucky slaps him on the shoulder with a laugh).
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Don't you dare be late. Understood?
*tears*
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"SQUEAK," says someone behind him.
He turns around.
"SQUEAK," says Death of Rats again.
The angry exclamation is several moments in building, but once there is enough momentum behind it, it erupts out of the mastermind. "I am not a rat!" Death of Rats heaves a sigh as dry as bone. "SQUEAK SQUEAK-SQUEAK SQUEAK," he says ( ... )
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Thanks for writing this!
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Glad you liked!
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I love how you've organized this story, for one. That was one of the things that really stood out for me: the shift of POVs from Anderson to Mrs. Hudson to Rachel to Sherlock and Mycroft to Rachel to Mrs. Hudson to Anderson. I especially liked the portrayal of Anderson here, most notably in the last scene.
And poor Sherlock, I just want to hug him to pieces. It only makes sense that he changes into a much less happier man without John, which is just so painful yet true to the character.
Thank you so much for writing this.
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