prompting part XXIII
Please check the Sticky Post to find the newest active part and post your prompts there.
Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post
IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.
( Read more... )
Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post
IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.
( Read more... )
They had been at the Chinese restaurant, the cabbie case concluded; with a pot of chow-mein between them. Sherlock was high on the success of the case, and on acquiring a flat-mate (the latter was a greater achievement)… John Watson wasn’t boring…wasn’t squeamish… and had just shot a man for him!
And the best part was, he understood him…his addiction to the game, how he got his kicks! Much of the reason was that he got his kicks the same way too!
It was an unlikely partnership, but it worked, because like opposing pieces of a jigsaw, they somehow fit together. John was nothing like him or Mycroft, and he found all his previous perceptions of a possible, future imaginary friend severely challenged! Even in his wildest dreams, he had never imagined a friend like John Watson!
But he HAD imagined someone like Irene Adler! The Woman was an exact prototype of a companion that he had always carried around in his mind (sexual overtures apart). Of course, he had been thrilled to meet her…
And when that had gone spectacularly south, he watched how John Watson found the strength to lie to him, for his own sake; to save Sherlock from himself. Not saving Irene had never been an option, not out of some archaic concept like love, but simply because it would have been the waste of a magnificent intellect. He just couldn’t stand by and watch it happen!
But John would never understand that. He would see it as a betrayal, as choosing to save Jim’s accomplice. For the first time in his life, Sherlock Holmes too found himself lying to someone, to spare his feelings! A lie of omission, but a lie nonetheless…
And then there had been Henry with his Hound! That first time in Dewer’s Hollow, his world had been turned upside down…nothing made sense. And then, true to form, he had driven away the one person who gave a damn. He could almost hear Mycroft drawling, ‘Well done Sherlock!’
He made up with John the next morning, before he even realised what he was doing. Because he had discovered something new and frightening about himself. He simply couldn’t stand the sight of John walking away from him!
And after all that, watching Falkland morph into Moriarty at the Hollow, had been the last straw for his fragile psyche…
Reply
When Sherlock didn’t answer, John assumed he must be already asleep, and retrieved a spare key from Billy to get into the room. The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was that the room was pitch dark, with the curtains drawn over the closed windows. Sherlock’s bed was on the far side of the room. John stifled a loud yawn as he made his way to the bathroom to change, before bed…
That was when he felt someone slam into him bodily and tackle him to the floor, his bum shoulder hitting the ground first. All air rushed out of his lungs, before he could open his mouth to cry for help. He was just about to attempt flipping his attacker, when he spoke literally into his ear, “Not very smart, Jim… You’re lucky John isn’t here. He would have shot you on sight! Then again, I don’t plan on you having such an easy death!”
John couldn’t help but gasp… it was Sherlock! Bloody Sherlock, holding him so tight that he was cutting of circulation… in the next instant, a hand was clamped over his mouth, as his flat-mate’s voice once again caressed his ear, “Did you think that I wouldn’t see you in the Hollow? Big mistake!”
Fuck! Sherlock was strong, and thought he was Moriarty, and if the pressure over his windpipe increased any further, his neck was going to snap. Suddenly he realised, he was still holding the torch in his left hand, which he had been in the process of removing from his jacket while heading to the bathroom.
He frantically wiggled his fingers, and switched it on, the beam of light suddenly shooting out between him and Sherlock, and illuminating both their faces…
Sherlock blinked once, then gave an audible cry, as this time he threw himself away from John, and then proceeded to scramble as far away as possible…
John was coughing as he got to his feet, but the first thing he did was to flip on every light switch in the room. In the illuminated room, he could now see Sherlock, cowering against the far wall, knees drawn up to the chest, visibly trembling, face hidden behind his hands…
John slowly approached him, not knowing if Sherlock was still locked in a drug-induced hallucination. But his friend didn’t react as John settled in the floor next to him, and wordlessly pried his hands away from his face. Sherlock’s eyes were tightly closed as if he was afraid to open them…
“Hey, Sherlock… it’s ok now. It’s just the drug…you had a bad reaction, that’s all. Come on.”
Sherlock’s eyes snapped open. They were blood-shot and re-rimmed. His voice was shaking, “How can you say that it’s alright? I nearly snapped your neck. Even Henry had been exposed multiple times before he went homicidal. Don’t you get it? There’s something seriously wrong with me…” he gritted his teeth, “Get away from me John, while you still can!”
Suddenly, Sherlock found that his face was held between two warm hands, forcing him to look into John’s deep blue eyes. “Sherlock, there’s NOTHING wrong with you! It’s the drug, not you… you didn’t attack me…You attacked Moriarty, which was an entirely rational reaction! It proves that you are more than just sane. It proves that you are morally sound, and insanely brave. I’m proud to call you my friend…and I’m not going anywhere… Put THAT in your mind-palace!”
Then John wrapped both his hands around Sherlock and hugged his friend for the first time…
That was when Sherlock understood something very important about himself. He may be a sociopath, a freak, a monster who manipulated people, who could cry on cue, who had no desire to understand sentiment or emotion…
He may be all of the above, but he wasn’t alone…
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
You done an amazing job on this story! With all the emotions in it, well done. =)
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment