Equivalent Exchange (8/8)
anonymous
December 3 2010, 03:09:37 UTC
"Look," John says, "I just want to ask you a few questions."
The teenager -- more of a boy, really -- doesn't seem convinced. He's shaking as he holds the knife out, terrified and uncertain. John tries not to make any sudden movements, keeping both hands in sight. Back alleys are bad for this sort of conversation. No one is very reasonable when backed into a corner, and the inexperienced most of all. "I don't believe you," the boy says.
"I'm not here to--" John starts, but then there's a sudden burst of sound from the skip behind the boy. Just a cat rattling about, probably, but it's just enough of a distraction for John that he doesn't see the knife as it's coming towards him, as it slides into his chest.
It doesn't hurt at first, but then it explodes from somewhere in John's ribcage, and he falls as the boy runs away, still holding onto the knife. John's vision goes fuzzy at the edges, his breathing too shallow. John knows he's losing too much blood, but he can't think, can't think. Seconds, minutes pass. Funny, John had come back to London expecting to die alone, and it seems strange to contemplate now. His shirt soaked with blood, sticking to his skin. The ground is hard underneath his body. The air smells vaguely of rotting tomatoes.
"John!" a voice says -- Sherlock -- and then there are hands on John's chest, trying to staunch the blood.
John can't move. It takes too much, more than he can give. He wants to grab Sherlock's shoulder, wants to press his nose into Sherlock's hair, but Sherlock is so far away.
"You idiot," Sherlock says, which is just so bloody typical. John can feel the beginnings of a smile forming on his face. Sherlock's lips are dry and chapped against his own as Sherlock kisses him.
And then everything goes white.
*
From: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk To: mycroft@dsux.org Subject: notes
I know you have access to his notes. I want a copy.
SH
From: mycroft@dsux.org To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk Subject: Re: notes
You know as well as I that his work was a complete failure.
MH
From: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk To: mycroft@dsux.org Subject: Re: notes
I am quite a bit smarter than he was. I won't make the same mistakes he did.
Give me the notes, Mycroft, or I will tell Mummy about Bolivia.
SH
From: mycroft@dsux.org To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk Subject: Re: notes
Really, Sherlock. Threats are so unnecessary.
Expect the package next week, and do try not to make a mess of it.
MH
From: mycroft@dsux.org To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk Subject: Answer your phone.
While I know you detest these assignments, ignoring my calls will not put me off. Stop being so childish.
MH
From: mycroft@dsux.org To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk Subject: I am tired of your games.
Yes, it is very impressive that you have managed to slip by the surveillance detail, but I really do need to speak to you.
Mummy is worried as well.
MH
From: mycroft@dsux.org To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk Subject: Enough of this
I will find you eventually, you know.
MH
From: glestrade@met.police.uk To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk Subject: New Case
I came by the flat and Mrs. Hudson said you hadn't been around in a while. Where the hell have you been?
I've got a new case if you're interested. I know things have been hard, but we could really use your help.
-Lestrade
From: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk To: glestrade@met.police.uk Subject: Auto-reply: New Case
If you're receiving this e-mail, it's because I haven't logged onto this account for 2 weeks, and I've got much better things to do at the moment than listen to your pathetic little problems.
Alternatively, I'm dead. Either way, I'm no use to you, and you might as well fuck off.
While I was holding out for a happy ending, this probably fits better with the overall tone of the piece. ;_; There's no way Sherlock wouldn't give human transmutation a shot if he thought he had a reason to, especially for John. And of course he'd never believe for an instant that he wouldn't succeed.
(...although...the ending doesn't necessarily say that he doesn't succeed. Just that he hasn't been near his computer...)
(...and now I wonder if there's a John-homunculus waking up somewhere.)
Re: Equivalent Exchange (8/8)lizzledpinkDecember 6 2010, 08:16:33 UTC
Okay, by the end of the sixth part I was whimpering, WHIMPERING, OUT LOUD, UNABASHEDLY. I HAVE CRIED, SQUEALED, YELLED, LAUGHED, EXPLODED over fic, but never once, NEVER, have I whimpered. Oh my God.
AND THEN THE ENDING - FU*- HELL.
YOU BROKE ME.
oh my god.
-tiny, keening, quiet noise of despair-
I need either a) sequel b) happy epilogue c) fluff
God. I just - I want to write a happy ending in; I want to set it so that they live, escape to Wales and get married and live happily ever after with everybody assuming they're dead, I don't know, but then I don't because it would just cheapen the beautiful, broken-glass perfection that is the ending...
Re: Equivalent Exchange (8/8)darkestnight12December 6 2010, 09:35:08 UTC
What? WHAT? What? o_O That was EVIL. My mind just went to sad places that makes me want to CRY. And then running for hopeful places that weren't that helpful. ;_; Cruel and unusual punishment, yo. But if anyone can do it right, Sherlock can. Because he's a HOLMES. And they can do ANYTHING.
Re: Equivalent Exchange (8/8)sezsoDecember 6 2010, 09:37:01 UTC
NO. NO. ANON. YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW AND FIX THIS. *weeps*
I loved every single second of this. It was a beautiful mix of the 2 fandoms and John's pain was beautifully rendered. But oh! The ending. My poor, poor broken heart. :'(
Re: Equivalent Exchange (8/8)mumblesDecember 6 2010, 11:38:24 UTC
So freaking gleeful at reading 2 of my fandoms. Its really well done and dear lord the ending, the amazing ending it definitely fits the mood though I was hoping for a happy one but you can't have them all. Thank you for writing this
The teenager -- more of a boy, really -- doesn't seem convinced. He's shaking as he holds the knife out, terrified and uncertain. John tries not to make any sudden movements, keeping both hands in sight. Back alleys are bad for this sort of conversation. No one is very reasonable when backed into a corner, and the inexperienced most of all. "I don't believe you," the boy says.
"I'm not here to--" John starts, but then there's a sudden burst of sound from the skip behind the boy. Just a cat rattling about, probably, but it's just enough of a distraction for John that he doesn't see the knife as it's coming towards him, as it slides into his chest.
It doesn't hurt at first, but then it explodes from somewhere in John's ribcage, and he falls as the boy runs away, still holding onto the knife. John's vision goes fuzzy at the edges, his breathing too shallow. John knows he's losing too much blood, but he can't think, can't think. Seconds, minutes pass. Funny, John had come back to London expecting to die alone, and it seems strange to contemplate now. His shirt soaked with blood, sticking to his skin. The ground is hard underneath his body. The air smells vaguely of rotting tomatoes.
"John!" a voice says -- Sherlock -- and then there are hands on John's chest, trying to staunch the blood.
John can't move. It takes too much, more than he can give. He wants to grab Sherlock's shoulder, wants to press his nose into Sherlock's hair, but Sherlock is so far away.
"You idiot," Sherlock says, which is just so bloody typical. John can feel the beginnings of a smile forming on his face. Sherlock's lips are dry and chapped against his own as Sherlock kisses him.
And then everything goes white.
*
From: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
To: mycroft@dsux.org
Subject: notes
I know you have access to his notes. I want a copy.
SH
From: mycroft@dsux.org
To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
Subject: Re: notes
You know as well as I that his work was a complete failure.
MH
From: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
To: mycroft@dsux.org
Subject: Re: notes
I am quite a bit smarter than he was. I won't make the same mistakes he did.
Give me the notes, Mycroft, or I will tell Mummy about Bolivia.
SH
From: mycroft@dsux.org
To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
Subject: Re: notes
Really, Sherlock. Threats are so unnecessary.
Expect the package next week, and do try not to make a mess of it.
MH
From: mycroft@dsux.org
To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
Subject: Answer your phone.
While I know you detest these assignments, ignoring my calls will not put me off. Stop being so childish.
MH
From: mycroft@dsux.org
To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
Subject: I am tired of your games.
Yes, it is very impressive that you have managed to slip by the surveillance detail, but I really do need to speak to you.
Mummy is worried as well.
MH
From: mycroft@dsux.org
To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
Subject: Enough of this
I will find you eventually, you know.
MH
From: glestrade@met.police.uk
To: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
Subject: New Case
I came by the flat and Mrs. Hudson said you hadn't been around in a while. Where the hell have you been?
I've got a new case if you're interested. I know things have been hard, but we could really use your help.
-Lestrade
From: sh@thescienceofdeduction.co.uk
To: glestrade@met.police.uk
Subject: Auto-reply: New Case
If you're receiving this e-mail, it's because I haven't logged onto this account for 2 weeks, and I've got much better things to do at the moment than listen to your pathetic little problems.
Alternatively, I'm dead. Either way, I'm no use to you, and you might as well fuck off.
This goes twice for you, Mycroft.
SH
Reply
Reply
While I was holding out for a happy ending, this probably fits better with the overall tone of the piece. ;_; There's no way Sherlock wouldn't give human transmutation a shot if he thought he had a reason to, especially for John. And of course he'd never believe for an instant that he wouldn't succeed.
(...although...the ending doesn't necessarily say that he doesn't succeed. Just that he hasn't been near his computer...)
(...and now I wonder if there's a John-homunculus waking up somewhere.)
Reply
I CAN'T EVEN-
TWO FOR YOU, BECAUSE THAT ENDING IS RIDICULOUSLY ENGAGING AND IT TOOK BALLS (I SAY AS I STARE AT THE BROKEN PIECES OF MY HEART ALL OVER THE FLOOR).
Reply
AND THEN THE ENDING - FU*- HELL.
YOU BROKE ME.
oh my god.
-tiny, keening, quiet noise of despair-
I need either
a) sequel
b) happy epilogue
c) fluff
God. I just - I want to write a happy ending in; I want to set it so that they live, escape to Wales and get married and live happily ever after with everybody assuming they're dead, I don't know, but then I don't because it would just cheapen the beautiful, broken-glass perfection that is the ending...
I need a cuddle. So badly.
Still whimpering.
Reply
Reply
I loved every single second of this. It was a beautiful mix of the 2 fandoms and John's pain was beautifully rendered. But oh! The ending. My poor, poor broken heart. :'(
Reply
Thank you for writing this
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