FIC: The Adventure of the Delirious Detective

[mithen]

Title: The Adventure of the Delirious Detective
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing/Characters: John/Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, Greg Lestrade
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 6200
Summary: Sherlock is back in 221B, but John isn't yet--until he receives a frantic phone call from Mrs. Hudson begging for his help.
Note: A BBC Sherlocked

Comments

[starsandsea]

"It's contagious, John," said Sherlock.

"What is? Being an arrogant prat?"

*snorts*

what do you know of Rockhill's Disease? Or Andimeshk Fever?"

John pursed his lips. "I've never heard of them."

"Exactly. And what I suffer from now is more obscure than either of them, a disease so rare that--what are you doing?"

John had his cell phone out. "There isn't a single hit in Google for either of them, Sherlock."

Ahahahaha! Google certainly makes inventing a illness a lot harder, poor Sherlock... :p

His eye fell on the skull grinning from the drawers; beside it was a beige USB stick in an small, open box. John idly picked it up. It was one of the ones that retracted, and he went to click it open--

"John!" Sherlock's voice was strident, panicked, nearly a cry. "Drop that right now!"

Without thinking, John let the USB stick clatter to the floor. "What the--"

Sherlock was sitting up in bed, his eyes wild. "How dare you touch my things, John!" he gasped. "You know how I hate it!" His cracked and bleeding lips were trembling and he took a long, shaking breath, then swallowed hard, looking as though he might be sick. "God," he choked. "You--you moron, you idiot, you complete imbecile."

Oh! Oh, that on the re-read! *wibbles a bit* *pets Sherlock*

"You don't understand," Sherlock groaned. "There he is, I see him so far away, his face is so small and far away and I can't--I can't--but I did, I said goodbye, and now I don't know if I can ever come back, I'm back but I'm not back, the flat is empty all the time--not the good kind of empty, not the quiet empty when he was absent and I wouldn't notice but--he'd always come back. He was never gone, never." Sherlock threw a hand in front of his eyes and laughed like a sob, a laugh that started low and pitched upward into shrillness, raking at John like claws. "--I tried to talk to him, I talked to him all last year, I pretended he had just left for a moment and I would talk and talk and wait for him to come back, and it would grow dark and he wouldn't come, and then I would remember I had sent him away, and he was never coming back." He lowered his hand and looked at John again, his eyes empty, his voice utterly flat. "He won't come back. I broke it."

*wibbles again* *squishes John and Sherlock together*

"Don't try to hide that smile. You're practically gloating!" John resisted an urge to grab Lestrade by the collar and shake him. "You haven't forgiven him, have you? You're still holding the last year against him. Well, you listen to me," he said, jabbing at Lestrade's chest with an angry finger, then pointing to the window, "That man up there saved your life, and you don't have to approve of his methods, but you should be damn well be thanking him for sacrificing so much--for risking his life--to save yours. To save ours," he finished in a rush, glaring at Lestrade's amused face. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to try and save his."

How amused by all this is Lestrade? :D

He realized dimly that he had rather hoped he would have a chance to punch this bloke in the face. He definitely needed to punch something at the moment.

Poor John! At least he got to punch someone later! :p

"Making me listen to all that bullshit, going on and on about how sorry you are, and how much you missed me, and your tragic loneliness and how you need me--"

Sherlock was looking down at his hands, plucking at the threads of the blanket. He muttered something indistinct which might have been "The best way of successfully acting a part is to be it," and avoided John's eyes.

*flails*

You know biofeedback, you can raise your own pulse on command." John sat down on the edge of the bed and took Sherlock's wrist in his fingers. "It's a bit elevated right now," he observed. "Proving my point."

"Uh. Right," said Sherlock.

Hee!

"We are not keeping samples of highly contagious, extremely deadly diseases in the flat," said John. Sherlock shot him a look, and John looked around in horror. "We're not, are we?"

Sherlock cast his eyes up, considering. Then he grinned. "Define highly and extremely."

*snickers* That's such a Sherlock response! And then the ending...

This was lovely, and made me giggle! Thank you for sharing it! :)

[mithen]

Ahahahaha! Google certainly makes inventing a illness a lot harder, poor Sherlock... :p

Hee! In the original story Watson just kind of has to take Holmes at his word, and then I remembered John would have his phone, lol...

Oh! Oh, that on the re-read! *wibbles a bit* *pets Sherlock*

Ahhh, that moment in the original totally grabbed me, this horrible moment when he realizes he could have cost Watson his life. It's...such a fanficcy moment already that it was easy to adapt!

Lestrade was so much fun to write! He was vastly amused (and relieved) by John's speech...

Mmmm, John punching bad people is a delicious thought, somehow. He hasn't gotten enough punching in yet! Here's hoping for John-punches (other than Sherlock) in Series three!