Re: Fill: Making of Sherlock - 3/4
anonymous
October 1 2011, 22:26:26 UTC
The man frowned, hand coming up to berate and Sherlock snarled first, “Truly what is wrong with your eyes old man?” and continued on leaving the man spluttering behind him.
His hands trembled when he went to brush aside his hair and he checked rude off his mental checklist. Rather than trying again, he found himself a café and took a window table.
The terror sat deep inside him at every encounter, shivering and crippling and ruining some of his attempts. But slowly he began to succeed more than he failed and after awhile, when he become more comfortable, or perhaps simply more used to, addressing strangers he realized how clueless they all were. His terror never translated, his worry, his fear - all people saw was what he let them see. Yet no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t carry on the act with anyone he knew.
The problem, he quickly found, was with his feelings. After his experiments, it was obvious he was the only one aware of his fear. It was ridiculous. Further experiments, and a great deal of common sense, revealed that it didn’t matter what he did, there was no repercussions. So his fear was pointless. And if he could not trust his emotions, than he had to rely on logic.
The next stage of his experiment was harder. Rather than trying to overcome his fear, rather than trying to control his emotions Sherlock would dismiss them. Logic would control the next stage. He was moving the location to his classroom. Much like he met Jason originally, he found himself intentionally sitting next to people before class and greeting them. The social situation dictated a response but conversation would be short due to the beginning of class. He would categorize how they responded and provide a response in turn and study their reaction.
His findings surprised him. People were boring. They acted the same, followed the same script. He was able to easily carry out a conversation. He took his findings out to his bench and studied people again. Watching them smile and greet and talk. Watching the same conversation over and over with different voices and words but the same material.
He took his findings and applied it to one of Jason’s friends. One Sherlock saw occasionally.
“Hello Rick,” Sherlock said as Rick walked in, airing his shirt. Not from the gym but his afternoon run likely.
Rick’s eyebrow went up, “Hey Sherlock.”
“How’s it been?” Sherlock had originally planned to ask ‘how was your day’, but figured it might be too intimate. He had overheard two male friends using ‘how’s it been’ yesterday while he was observing interactions. It seemed appropriate.
Rick shrugged, “You know, busy what with mid-terms right around the corner. Actually, that’s why I’m here. Seen Jason or Michael? We’re meeting to study for our bio class.”
“Ah, I believe he went to get snacks. He had been looking around the kitchenette and rushed out - you just missed him.” Sherlock answered calmly, focusing on his breathing and pulse. Rick did not appear to be having any trouble or notice anything off, so Sherlock figured he was responding correctly.
“That’s cool. It is his turn to provide them. I guess that means Michael isn’t here yet.” Rick said as he sat in the chair across from Sherlock, falling immediately into a slouch.
Sherlock found it curious. These useless statements made just to carry on the flow of conversation. It was as pointless as his fear, but something much more easy to master. “No, no he isn’t. What time are you guys supposed to be meeting?” At 3, Sherlock knew because Jason had started panicking at 2:30 and darted out at 2:37. It takes 4 minutes to reach the closest store but at this time of day it would be crowded with students just out of class. Rick had arrived at 2:54, early but not unreasonable - especially as Rick had a habit of always arriving at least 5 minutes early. Michael was often late by 3 minutes, not enough for people to comment on.
“Three. I’m just a little early. Nothing to do at home so I might as well be here, right?” Rick laughed.
Sherlock forced himself to chuckle. He found it eased his terror a little to appear to be fitting in. As the laughs stopped, Sherlock took a slow breath, the next step. “Do you need anything? A drink?”
Re: Fill: Making of Sherlock - 4/5
anonymous
October 1 2011, 22:27:37 UTC
“Nah, I’m good. I should probably get a little reading in, let you get back to your own.” Rick shrugged, “Besides, it shouldn’t take them too long to get here. I can wait.”
Sherlock nodded, and glanced back down at his book. His eyes refused to focus on the words and he could feel the sweat dripping down his back. He had to focus on his breathing to prevent panting. He had survived his first attempt, something much more difficult that dealing with strangers ever could be, but found the overall event distasteful. A waste of time.
--
He continued to keep the façade of friendship with Rick. They chatted when he came over usually, once Rick had called out when Sherlock had passed him at a café. Sherlock found it tiring and troublesome, but rewarding. Rick was the first person he actually initiated conversation with continuously outside of Jason.
It bolstered his belief that his feelings just got in the way. Next time he was in the library, he posed a challenge for himself. Rather than just finding the book he required by himself, as usual, he forced himself to ask the librarian. He reassured himself multiple times before and during the event - it’s her job and the worse that happens is she can’t help were the two most common things running through his head. She found his book in twice the time it would have taken him but had a smile for him.
Sherlock decided his experiment was complete.
Later that night, Jason had a small get-together. It was too quiet to be a party but Sherlock found it almost overwhelming. He was nursing a beer, trying to fit in, when Jason collapsed into the chair next to him.
“I was a bit worried you know?” Jason said, a slight slurring suggesting it was not his first bottle. “You’re a great guy, but so quiet. I was worried for you. But now you’re friends with Rick too and it makes me happy to know you’re okay.”
Sherlock looked over, trying to figure out how to respond. This was not covered by his research.
Jason smiled, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yes, you’ve said that.” Sherlock said.
Jason nodded seriously, “It’s important to me, we’re friends.” He looked over as cheers went up in the corner but didn’t seem to interested, “Hey, remember at the beginning of the school year when you played that detective?”
Sherlock nodded, “It was surprisingly fun.” At least, it was when reflecting on it. Particularly the trench coat the teacher had given him to allow him to get more into his role. When no one was looking he enjoyed turning sharply and feeling it flutter.
“Well, how about when you added those lines, about deducing and all. Can you do that again?” Jason asked, leaning forward. “It was cool and I wanna see Jeremy go red in the face.”
“I was playing a role,” Sherlock said, frowning, “The facts were already there in the dialogue.”
But Jason didn’t seem to hear, “Come on, I’m pretty sure he found himself a girlfriend. Deduce him into telling us.”
Sherlock sighed, but nodded. He owed Jason a lot and seemed to always give in to what he wanted. Besides, everyone here was drunk so if he made a fool of himself no one would remember.
Despite his self-assurances, as they headed over Sherlock felt the sinking dread again. Jason said something and everyone laughed and then they were all staring at Sherlock. A shudder went through him and panicked eyes searched out Jason, but Jason was smiling and nodded, “Come on Sherlock, said you had a trick you wanted to show us.”
It was time and he had to act and so he shoved away his emotion, drew upon the overconfident detective he played in theater class and smirked. “Well, I would need a volunteer. Jeremy? How kind of you to offer.” Laughter as Jeremy pointed at himself in surprise. “I see that you’re wearing a new watch.”
Jeremy smiled and looked at it fondly, fiddling with it a little, “It was a gift.”
“From a female, but not from family. Look at the shape, the decoration. Too fancy for family and too expensive to be from just a friend.” Sherlock said, hand sweeping in a over the top gesture. “And what about your shirt?”
Re: Fill: Making of Sherlock - 5/5
anonymous
October 1 2011, 22:28:55 UTC
“My shirt?” Jeremy asked, everyone else was silently watching, head swerving between Sherlock and everything he pointed out.
“No stains! New. Trying to impress someone then, or perhaps look better for someone?” Sherlock said, a knowing tone in his voice. Inside, he trembled. “You can make it easy on yourself, just confess.”
“Confess?” Jeremy blushed, “I mean, I was going to tell you guys.”
Sherlock lost the flow of conversation as he allowed the others to step forward and pester Jeremy. Jason gave him a thumbs up. Sherlock nodded and stayed in the back of the pack just listening. He could have done better, there were better clues to have drawn on.
Perhaps that was the key. His research showed an appearance of confidence prevented questions while overwhelming people put them on the defensive. Feelings were misleading and pointless, easily manipulated as he was doing even now. Hadn’t he quieted and controlled a mob of drunk college students, small though it was?
He could do this. No one had to know oh his fear.
--
In the years to come, Sherlock learned to cultivate a personality and reputation that would scare others off. That would allow him to interact as he needed so no one would ever guess of the ball of emotion he couldn’t control.
Shortly after the protected atmosphere of university it got to be too much. When things got overwhelming, Sherlock turned to drugs. And when his brother and strangers looked down upon him, sneering about boredom kept his secret safe.
Re: Fill: Making of Sherlock - 5/5
anonymous
October 1 2011, 23:38:46 UTC
Ooh. This is poignant and feels oddly plausible. I can easily see the appeal of practicing on strangers myself, at least in theory, and taking a cab to a random location specifically to test his persona on strangers is so very Sherlock.
His hands trembled when he went to brush aside his hair and he checked rude off his mental checklist. Rather than trying again, he found himself a café and took a window table.
The terror sat deep inside him at every encounter, shivering and crippling and ruining some of his attempts. But slowly he began to succeed more than he failed and after awhile, when he become more comfortable, or perhaps simply more used to, addressing strangers he realized how clueless they all were. His terror never translated, his worry, his fear - all people saw was what he let them see. Yet no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t carry on the act with anyone he knew.
The problem, he quickly found, was with his feelings. After his experiments, it was obvious he was the only one aware of his fear. It was ridiculous. Further experiments, and a great deal of common sense, revealed that it didn’t matter what he did, there was no repercussions. So his fear was pointless. And if he could not trust his emotions, than he had to rely on logic.
The next stage of his experiment was harder. Rather than trying to overcome his fear, rather than trying to control his emotions Sherlock would dismiss them. Logic would control the next stage. He was moving the location to his classroom. Much like he met Jason originally, he found himself intentionally sitting next to people before class and greeting them. The social situation dictated a response but conversation would be short due to the beginning of class. He would categorize how they responded and provide a response in turn and study their reaction.
His findings surprised him. People were boring. They acted the same, followed the same script. He was able to easily carry out a conversation. He took his findings out to his bench and studied people again. Watching them smile and greet and talk. Watching the same conversation over and over with different voices and words but the same material.
He took his findings and applied it to one of Jason’s friends. One Sherlock saw occasionally.
“Hello Rick,” Sherlock said as Rick walked in, airing his shirt. Not from the gym but his afternoon run likely.
Rick’s eyebrow went up, “Hey Sherlock.”
“How’s it been?” Sherlock had originally planned to ask ‘how was your day’, but figured it might be too intimate. He had overheard two male friends using ‘how’s it been’ yesterday while he was observing interactions. It seemed appropriate.
Rick shrugged, “You know, busy what with mid-terms right around the corner. Actually, that’s why I’m here. Seen Jason or Michael? We’re meeting to study for our bio class.”
“Ah, I believe he went to get snacks. He had been looking around the kitchenette and rushed out - you just missed him.” Sherlock answered calmly, focusing on his breathing and pulse. Rick did not appear to be having any trouble or notice anything off, so Sherlock figured he was responding correctly.
“That’s cool. It is his turn to provide them. I guess that means Michael isn’t here yet.” Rick said as he sat in the chair across from Sherlock, falling immediately into a slouch.
Sherlock found it curious. These useless statements made just to carry on the flow of conversation. It was as pointless as his fear, but something much more easy to master. “No, no he isn’t. What time are you guys supposed to be meeting?” At 3, Sherlock knew because Jason had started panicking at 2:30 and darted out at 2:37. It takes 4 minutes to reach the closest store but at this time of day it would be crowded with students just out of class. Rick had arrived at 2:54, early but not unreasonable - especially as Rick had a habit of always arriving at least 5 minutes early. Michael was often late by 3 minutes, not enough for people to comment on.
“Three. I’m just a little early. Nothing to do at home so I might as well be here, right?” Rick laughed.
Sherlock forced himself to chuckle. He found it eased his terror a little to appear to be fitting in. As the laughs stopped, Sherlock took a slow breath, the next step. “Do you need anything? A drink?”
Reply
Sherlock nodded, and glanced back down at his book. His eyes refused to focus on the words and he could feel the sweat dripping down his back. He had to focus on his breathing to prevent panting. He had survived his first attempt, something much more difficult that dealing with strangers ever could be, but found the overall event distasteful. A waste of time.
--
He continued to keep the façade of friendship with Rick. They chatted when he came over usually, once Rick had called out when Sherlock had passed him at a café. Sherlock found it tiring and troublesome, but rewarding. Rick was the first person he actually initiated conversation with continuously outside of Jason.
It bolstered his belief that his feelings just got in the way. Next time he was in the library, he posed a challenge for himself. Rather than just finding the book he required by himself, as usual, he forced himself to ask the librarian. He reassured himself multiple times before and during the event - it’s her job and the worse that happens is she can’t help were the two most common things running through his head. She found his book in twice the time it would have taken him but had a smile for him.
Sherlock decided his experiment was complete.
Later that night, Jason had a small get-together. It was too quiet to be a party but Sherlock found it almost overwhelming. He was nursing a beer, trying to fit in, when Jason collapsed into the chair next to him.
“I was a bit worried you know?” Jason said, a slight slurring suggesting it was not his first bottle. “You’re a great guy, but so quiet. I was worried for you. But now you’re friends with Rick too and it makes me happy to know you’re okay.”
Sherlock looked over, trying to figure out how to respond. This was not covered by his research.
Jason smiled, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yes, you’ve said that.” Sherlock said.
Jason nodded seriously, “It’s important to me, we’re friends.” He looked over as cheers went up in the corner but didn’t seem to interested, “Hey, remember at the beginning of the school year when you played that detective?”
Sherlock nodded, “It was surprisingly fun.” At least, it was when reflecting on it. Particularly the trench coat the teacher had given him to allow him to get more into his role. When no one was looking he enjoyed turning sharply and feeling it flutter.
“Well, how about when you added those lines, about deducing and all. Can you do that again?” Jason asked, leaning forward. “It was cool and I wanna see Jeremy go red in the face.”
“I was playing a role,” Sherlock said, frowning, “The facts were already there in the dialogue.”
But Jason didn’t seem to hear, “Come on, I’m pretty sure he found himself a girlfriend. Deduce him into telling us.”
Sherlock sighed, but nodded. He owed Jason a lot and seemed to always give in to what he wanted. Besides, everyone here was drunk so if he made a fool of himself no one would remember.
Despite his self-assurances, as they headed over Sherlock felt the sinking dread again. Jason said something and everyone laughed and then they were all staring at Sherlock. A shudder went through him and panicked eyes searched out Jason, but Jason was smiling and nodded, “Come on Sherlock, said you had a trick you wanted to show us.”
It was time and he had to act and so he shoved away his emotion, drew upon the overconfident detective he played in theater class and smirked. “Well, I would need a volunteer. Jeremy? How kind of you to offer.” Laughter as Jeremy pointed at himself in surprise. “I see that you’re wearing a new watch.”
Jeremy smiled and looked at it fondly, fiddling with it a little, “It was a gift.”
“From a female, but not from family. Look at the shape, the decoration. Too fancy for family and too expensive to be from just a friend.” Sherlock said, hand sweeping in a over the top gesture. “And what about your shirt?”
Reply
“No stains! New. Trying to impress someone then, or perhaps look better for someone?” Sherlock said, a knowing tone in his voice. Inside, he trembled. “You can make it easy on yourself, just confess.”
“Confess?” Jeremy blushed, “I mean, I was going to tell you guys.”
Sherlock lost the flow of conversation as he allowed the others to step forward and pester Jeremy. Jason gave him a thumbs up. Sherlock nodded and stayed in the back of the pack just listening. He could have done better, there were better clues to have drawn on.
Perhaps that was the key. His research showed an appearance of confidence prevented questions while overwhelming people put them on the defensive. Feelings were misleading and pointless, easily manipulated as he was doing even now. Hadn’t he quieted and controlled a mob of drunk college students, small though it was?
He could do this. No one had to know oh his fear.
--
In the years to come, Sherlock learned to cultivate a personality and reputation that would scare others off. That would allow him to interact as he needed so no one would ever guess of the ball of emotion he couldn’t control.
Shortly after the protected atmosphere of university it got to be too much. When things got overwhelming, Sherlock turned to drugs. And when his brother and strangers looked down upon him, sneering about boredom kept his secret safe.
End.
Reply
Reply
Reply
I'm definitely bookmarking this.
:)
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment