No Peace for the Wicked
Title: No Peace for the Wicked
Characters: Sherlock, John, mention of Mycroft
Rating: G
Word Count: 221B (credit goes to kcscribbler for the invention of this drabble format)
Warnings: Spoilers for ACD’s story "The Adventure of the Final Problem"
Disclaimer: Don’t own
Summary: Sherlock would never again regret anything in his life as much as this. There was never any other point in his life where he felt so truly evil. He should never be forgiven.
A/N: Those who know my writing style know I have a hard time writing something short. But this image randomly came into my mind today and I just had to put it into words.
----
Even Sherlock knew it was wrong to do so, but his need to see this was so powerful his body trembled. What Sherlock was doing to him was cruel, so cruel. But . . . it had to be done. There was no other way.
With a deep breath, Sherlock steeled himself. Mycroft had wordlessly given him the tape earlier that evening and said simply that Sherlock had better know what he was doing.
(If he were to be completely truthful . . . he didn’t)
Sherlock was shocked by some who were in attendance at his funeral, and even more so by their grief, but they soon became background noise. He only had eyes for one.
With each passing minute, John’s psychosomatic limp grew more and more pronounced until it was worse than when they first met. The hand tremor returned.
But it was the end of the tape that did it. Sherlock could only watch, hardly breathing as John slowly and painfully dropped to his knees, softly touched the gravestone, and the light . . . the very essence of his John, it . . . vanished. Sherlock couldn’t recognize him anymore.
The video ended. Then Sherlock did something he hadn’t done since he was eleven. He buried his face in his hands . . .
-and wept bitterly.
Characters: Sherlock, John, mention of Mycroft
Rating: G
Word Count: 221B (credit goes to kcscribbler for the invention of this drabble format)
Warnings: Spoilers for ACD’s story "The Adventure of the Final Problem"
Disclaimer: Don’t own
Summary: Sherlock would never again regret anything in his life as much as this. There was never any other point in his life where he felt so truly evil. He should never be forgiven.
A/N: Those who know my writing style know I have a hard time writing something short. But this image randomly came into my mind today and I just had to put it into words.
----
Even Sherlock knew it was wrong to do so, but his need to see this was so powerful his body trembled. What Sherlock was doing to him was cruel, so cruel. But . . . it had to be done. There was no other way.
With a deep breath, Sherlock steeled himself. Mycroft had wordlessly given him the tape earlier that evening and said simply that Sherlock had better know what he was doing.
(If he were to be completely truthful . . . he didn’t)
Sherlock was shocked by some who were in attendance at his funeral, and even more so by their grief, but they soon became background noise. He only had eyes for one.
With each passing minute, John’s psychosomatic limp grew more and more pronounced until it was worse than when they first met. The hand tremor returned.
But it was the end of the tape that did it. Sherlock could only watch, hardly breathing as John slowly and painfully dropped to his knees, softly touched the gravestone, and the light . . . the very essence of his John, it . . . vanished. Sherlock couldn’t recognize him anymore.
The video ended. Then Sherlock did something he hadn’t done since he was eleven. He buried his face in his hands . . .
-and wept bitterly.