More than meets the eye 1/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 10 2011, 01:20:30 UTC
John really hadn’t been prepared for shooting. Yes there was an inherent danger when associated with Sherlock Holmes, he knew and accepted that, but there was typically an order to it all; go to crime scene and investigate, leave scene, follow clue, follow clue, confront villain, potential fight, and finally case closed. Steps may vary or be spread out over a period of time but that was the general process. So bullets flying during step one really caught him off guard.
They had been called to a warehouse by the docks where a man was found strangled and Sherlock and Anderson began their snipping war, throwing insults at each other while standing over the body, while he had stayed back to talk to Lestrade about who the victim actually was. After getting the call Sherlock has shouted ‘Denis Loyl!’ like that was suppose to mean something and then had refused to talk the entire way to the seen. Luckily Lestrade was more forthcoming though Sally was next to him and kept huffing all during the debrief.
And then out of nowhere shots rang out, one barely missing Sherlock.
John turned his head to follow the shot back to try and spot the shooter but before he could two sets of arms grabbed him and hauled him behind some shipping crates a few steps to their left. He was impressed by both officers immediate reaction and a bit bemused that the automatically went for him. They saw him as a civilian, he had to remind himself, and they think it’s their job to protect him. He might have laughed in the shouting hadn’t started at that moment.
There had been other officers at the scene, at least a dozen or more, and their shouts echoed around the building making it almost incompressible what they were yelling. Most where yelling in their radios for back up, others were calling out to see if anyone was hit, one was calling out for an ambulance, one was just screaming. He couldn’t see who it was but he could hear them.
Confusion reined for several minutes but finally it all went quiet. He prayed the young man who had been hit had gotten a hold of himself and that’s why his screams had stopped. The whole while Lestrade was speaking frantically in his radio while Sally was taking stock of the scene but once it went quiet the both turned to look at each other. Slowly Donavan peaked out around the crate they were hiding behind but quickly ducked as another shot was fired and a bullet buried itself in the ground several feet behind them.
Unlike some of the others the three of them actually had good cover. The crates they were hiding behind were stacked two high which allowed them to stand though they had to hunch a bit so that the tops of their heads weren’t exposed but compared to Sherlock and Anderson who had to who had to curl into tight balls to keep covered it was fairly luxurious.
“The CO19 has been called so hopefully we’ll be out of here shortly so we just need to keep calm and wait this out. You alright John?”
Alright I have to go to work but I'll get back to this hopefully tonight. Peace.
Re: More than meets the eye 1/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 10 2011, 01:32:21 UTC
OP here! *waves*
OMG, this gripped me from the very first sentence. I love how intense your writing is - and visual, because I could picture everything that was happening, just like this was an episode. I love seeing Sherlock and John work with the Yarders in the thick of the action, and this is already pushing several of my buttons, especially with how competent and on top of things Lestrade and Sally are (to the point that they impress John with their swift reflexes!). I also loved the detail of Lestrade actually being more forthcoming about information with John than Sherlock is (to Sally's frustration), which is so totally spot on for his character. [Poor Sherlock, left with Anderson (LOL!).] The tone of this feels very serious and very urgent, and I love seeing the scene from John's POV.
I am so excited about where you're going to be taking this. I'm already totally hooked and looking forward to more. :D
You rule! *huge hugs* Thank you so much! I'll be watching...!!!
More than meets the eye 2a/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 11 2011, 10:46:52 UTC
John sat with his back against the crate where he had been shoved by the two officers and he was extremely pale. At least he assumed he was pale because he felt he should be pale since he suddenly felt cold as well as sweaty and on the verge of hyperventilating. He had been fine when the shooting started, distracted by trying to follow the shot and then by Sally and Lestrades’ reaction. The shouting though, that must have been what did it though he wasn’t really sure. All he knew was that one moment he was at the scene of a murder in London and the next he was he was in Afghanistan huddling behind a wall wondering if he could manage to make it to the wounded soldier without getting shot himself.
Oh dear God he was a doctor and he wasn’t suppose to get shot at. He was only in the village to help some of the refugees and he had been promised that the zone was clear. They had sent a armed escort with him on a routine run and he had done it a dozen times before with no problems but all of a sudden they were shooting at them for the buildings and there was no where to run. They were cut off from the armored humvee. People where screaming. Thomas was yelling at him to keep it together and then his brains were splattered on the wall. Now it was him who was screaming.
Though luckily the memory only lasted the space of a few heartbeats before he was back sitting on the cold concrete floor. His heartbeat was pounding loudly in his ears and he could feel himself shaking slightly. He could barley make sense of the DI’s question between the flashbacks and his own physical state. There was a long pause where he struggled to get his train of thought all in a line and back on track before he nodded. “Yea, fine. Is Sherlock all right?”
Because Sherlock was on the other side of the warehouse stuck behind two small of cover with a man who probably wouldn’t but was defiantly thinking about pushing him out from behind the box. If he thought about Sherlock he wouldn’t think about Thomas because the detective had never met him and he had no reason to think about the two of them at the same time. He just needed to anchor himself to the present and wait it out. Just like he had to wait it out with Thomas’ corpse except this time he wasn’t going to be stupid and get himself shot while he was at it.
And suddenly Lestrade was kneeling in front of him and studying him with all too knowing eyes. “You were a soldier right?” The DI asked ignoring his question.
“What? Yea. We should a-we should-“ God he didn’t even know what he was trying to say. He was rambling and half aware of what was going on. Also he found it curious the way his left hand was clenching the fabric of his pants tightly right where his gun use to be carried. His other hand felt empty with out his medical kit to hold on to and Lord knows he held onto to it like a lifeline last time he had been pinned down.
More than meets the eye 2b/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 11 2011, 10:47:58 UTC
“John I need you to focus okay? Can’t have you going into shock or have a panic attack right now. You and I both know Sherlock wouldn’t waste a second running over here since he thinks he’s to bloody brilliant to be shot.” Lestrade’s tone was soothing and was no doubt the tone he used on all traumatized victims he dealt with. It probably would have annoyed him any other time but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to care though Sally’s blatant staring was making him self conscious.
“I would have thought you’d be use to this by now after running after the freak.” The woman said as if reading his thoughts.
“Sally not now.” Lestrade snapped at the woman before turning to back to him and reaching a hand out to rest on his shoulder.
“Don’t.” He snapped, pulling away from the hand.
“Alright no touching; got it. Donavan do you have any gum?” The sudden change in topic shocked the lady and she looked at him as if he had gone insane, but she nodded hesitantly and pulled a pack of gum from her jacket pocket. Lestrade nodded seemingly happy and pulled at a single stick before holding it out to John. “Chew on this it will help, I promise.”
He blinked at the DI in confusion before reaching a shaking hand out for the offered stick of gum. It was embarrassingly difficult to unwrap since his hand was trembling and he could only be grateful neither offered to help. As directed he stuck it in his mouth and after a few chews he was shocked about how much more clear headed he felt. “How? I don’t understand.”
Lestrade seemed pleased with himself and smirked a bit. “I found that the taste of mint helps stop the flashbacks. I’m not quite sure how it works but drinking some mint tea or chewing on a mint leaf works just as well; holding an ice cube works too. Now you just sit there and try and lower your heart rate some and it will keep you from cycling back, alright?”
Stupid charater limit. I hate chopping chapters up.
Re: More than meets the eye 2b/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 11 2011, 13:42:14 UTC
OP here. *flails in happiness*
This is slathered in awesome sauce. I love your characterizations here, the way John's awareness goes back and forth from Thomas (and his corpse) and Afghanistan to Sherlock and the warehouse. Very, very effective. I felt like I was in John's head.
And how much do I adore your Lestrade? He knows just how to handle John, pointing out that Sherlock will put himself in danger if he thinks John's in trouble. I love how calm and together Lestrade is, and how he really seems to understand. His totally understanding "Alright no touching; got it" really tore at my heart, because it not only speaks volumes about John, but it also speaks volumes about Lestrade. The fact Lestrade knows these clever tricks to keep someone from cycling back into the flashbacks... well, I'm just dying to know the back story there.
I can't wait to see where this goes next. It's amazing how immersed you make me feel in this scene: it's very intense and very poignant, just what I was hoping for and much more. *huge hugs* Thank you!
Re: More than meets the eye 2b/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 11 2011, 16:56:41 UTC
PS. It also really wrenched my heart imagining John trying to unwrap the stick of gum with trembling hands, all the while being grateful for Lestrade's and Donovan's tact in not trying to help him. Gorgeous detail there.
Re: More than meets the eye 2b/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 12 2011, 09:27:05 UTC
Yea I found a ptsd sight that suggested chewing on a mint leaf or holding a ice cube since it made it virtually impossible to have a flashback since they over power the senses and keep them in the present. I went with gum since I doubt people carry mint around in their pockets. Have no idea if it works on panic attacks though.
Re: More than meets the eye 2b/?blamethecupcakeFebruary 21 2011, 18:12:31 UTC
I'm really enjoying this and I'm looking forward to reading more. I love backstory fics like this, and I love how you're showing a connection between John and the DI.
More than meets the eye 3/?blamethecupcakeMarch 4 2011, 07:16:22 UTC
“Okay yea I- uh yea.” He tried to think positive thoughts or at least not think of the warzone he left far behind. The gum kept him from cycling back into the flashbacks but he just couldn’t stop thinking about the last time he was in this situation. Scent had a strong tie to memory, he knew, and the air was thick with the smell of gun powder. John didn’t doubt that the only thing that kept him spiraling back into his traumatic memories was the mint trick. He was going to have to remember that if he could. This wasn’t the first time John had gone through this and he knew from experience that his memory got hazy when he had flashbacks though maybe the gum would help with that to since it cleared his head.
He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them and then rested his head on his knees. It made him feel small and vulnerable, something it killed him to do in front of the detectives, but it was an instinctively comforting position and it blocked out the smell some. One of the things his therapist had taught him that he actually found some use for was breathing exercises.
Breathe in through your nose, hold it, and slowly exhale through mouth. Again. In, hold it, out. In, hold it, out. See, it was all fine.
A suddenly vibrating from him pocket made him jump and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone. John fumbled with it and ignored the two inspectors whose attention he had drawn with the sudden motion. Sherlock’s name lit up screen and he was momentarily confused because Sherlock never called when he could text. “Hello?”
“Are you alright?” The irritation in the detective’s voice could be heard clearly even over the phone though the slight tinge of worry was much harder to detect.
Sometimes he wondered how people could honestly believe Sherlock was a sociopath but then he had to remember he saw a side of the man that no one else did. “Yeah I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“Don’t be asinine; I’m not the one on clearly on the verge of a panic attack.” John looked up and over to where Sherlock was sitting scrunched into a tiny ball with his cell phone pressed to his ear and a thunderous expression on his face. He couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” John assured him. No doubt the man would think him hysterical, going from panicked to laughing with in moments.
“Let me talk to Lestrade.” With a sigh John held out the phone to the inspector who echoed his sentiments with a sigh of his own and took the offered cell.
“What? Look the CO19 is on its way so just sit tight.” John was unable to here what was being said on the other end of the line but it was no doubt unflattering if Lestrade’s expression was anything to go by. “No it’s fine, he’s fine. We have it under control. Well of course he’s laughing you look like a great big bloody vulture over there. Goodbye.”
Lestrade hung up and handed the phone back as calmly as if nothing had happened. “Well at least he was smart enough not to chance it by running over here. For someone as smart as he is, he can be really dumb.” That time John didn’t bother to try and stop the laughter as he put his head back down between his knees.
*flails* I am SO VERY excited to see this updated. Thank you so much! This is a wonderful installment.
I feel so much for John, who doesn't want to look so vulnerable in front of the officers, but it's great to see him doing better. Your Sherlock here is spot on. I love that he actually calls instead of texts, so he can hear John's voice. And that he insists on verifying John's reassurances by talking to Lestrade (which says something about how much he trusts Lestrade, too).
I adore your Lestrade so much! He's totally calm and in control here, and I laughed at how well he handled Sherlock ("great big bloody vulture") and made John laugh. I just want to give all of them a huge hug.
This really is a great fic. I'm loving your gorgeous characterizations here. And I'm fascinated by how Lestrade knows so well how to handle panic attacks/PTSD. I can't wait for more! Thank you, thank you, thank you! *bounces*
They had been called to a warehouse by the docks where a man was found strangled and Sherlock and Anderson began their snipping war, throwing insults at each other while standing over the body, while he had stayed back to talk to Lestrade about who the victim actually was. After getting the call Sherlock has shouted ‘Denis Loyl!’ like that was suppose to mean something and then had refused to talk the entire way to the seen. Luckily Lestrade was more forthcoming though Sally was next to him and kept huffing all during the debrief.
And then out of nowhere shots rang out, one barely missing Sherlock.
John turned his head to follow the shot back to try and spot the shooter but before he could two sets of arms grabbed him and hauled him behind some shipping crates a few steps to their left. He was impressed by both officers immediate reaction and a bit bemused that the automatically went for him. They saw him as a civilian, he had to remind himself, and they think it’s their job to protect him. He might have laughed in the shouting hadn’t started at that moment.
There had been other officers at the scene, at least a dozen or more, and their shouts echoed around the building making it almost incompressible what they were yelling. Most where yelling in their radios for back up, others were calling out to see if anyone was hit, one was calling out for an ambulance, one was just screaming. He couldn’t see who it was but he could hear them.
Confusion reined for several minutes but finally it all went quiet. He prayed the young man who had been hit had gotten a hold of himself and that’s why his screams had stopped. The whole while Lestrade was speaking frantically in his radio while Sally was taking stock of the scene but once it went quiet the both turned to look at each other. Slowly Donavan peaked out around the crate they were hiding behind but quickly ducked as another shot was fired and a bullet buried itself in the ground several feet behind them.
Unlike some of the others the three of them actually had good cover. The crates they were hiding behind were stacked two high which allowed them to stand though they had to hunch a bit so that the tops of their heads weren’t exposed but compared to Sherlock and Anderson who had to who had to curl into tight balls to keep covered it was fairly luxurious.
“The CO19 has been called so hopefully we’ll be out of here shortly so we just need to keep calm and wait this out. You alright John?”
Alright I have to go to work but I'll get back to this hopefully tonight. Peace.
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OMG, this gripped me from the very first sentence. I love how intense your writing is - and visual, because I could picture everything that was happening, just like this was an episode. I love seeing Sherlock and John work with the Yarders in the thick of the action, and this is already pushing several of my buttons, especially with how competent and on top of things Lestrade and Sally are (to the point that they impress John with their swift reflexes!). I also loved the detail of Lestrade actually being more forthcoming about information with John than Sherlock is (to Sally's frustration), which is so totally spot on for his character. [Poor Sherlock, left with Anderson (LOL!).] The tone of this feels very serious and very urgent, and I love seeing the scene from John's POV.
I am so excited about where you're going to be taking this. I'm already totally hooked and looking forward to more. :D
You rule! *huge hugs* Thank you so much! I'll be watching...!!!
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Oh dear God he was a doctor and he wasn’t suppose to get shot at. He was only in the village to help some of the refugees and he had been promised that the zone was clear. They had sent a armed escort with him on a routine run and he had done it a dozen times before with no problems but all of a sudden they were shooting at them for the buildings and there was no where to run. They were cut off from the armored humvee. People where screaming. Thomas was yelling at him to keep it together and then his brains were splattered on the wall. Now it was him who was screaming.
Though luckily the memory only lasted the space of a few heartbeats before he was back sitting on the cold concrete floor. His heartbeat was pounding loudly in his ears and he could feel himself shaking slightly. He could barley make sense of the DI’s question between the flashbacks and his own physical state. There was a long pause where he struggled to get his train of thought all in a line and back on track before he nodded. “Yea, fine. Is Sherlock all right?”
Because Sherlock was on the other side of the warehouse stuck behind two small of cover with a man who probably wouldn’t but was defiantly thinking about pushing him out from behind the box. If he thought about Sherlock he wouldn’t think about Thomas because the detective had never met him and he had no reason to think about the two of them at the same time. He just needed to anchor himself to the present and wait it out. Just like he had to wait it out with Thomas’ corpse except this time he wasn’t going to be stupid and get himself shot while he was at it.
And suddenly Lestrade was kneeling in front of him and studying him with all too knowing eyes. “You were a soldier right?” The DI asked ignoring his question.
“What? Yea. We should a-we should-“ God he didn’t even know what he was trying to say. He was rambling and half aware of what was going on. Also he found it curious the way his left hand was clenching the fabric of his pants tightly right where his gun use to be carried. His other hand felt empty with out his medical kit to hold on to and Lord knows he held onto to it like a lifeline last time he had been pinned down.
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“I would have thought you’d be use to this by now after running after the freak.” The woman said as if reading his thoughts.
“Sally not now.” Lestrade snapped at the woman before turning to back to him and reaching a hand out to rest on his shoulder.
“Don’t.” He snapped, pulling away from the hand.
“Alright no touching; got it. Donavan do you have any gum?” The sudden change in topic shocked the lady and she looked at him as if he had gone insane, but she nodded hesitantly and pulled a pack of gum from her jacket pocket. Lestrade nodded seemingly happy and pulled at a single stick before holding it out to John. “Chew on this it will help, I promise.”
He blinked at the DI in confusion before reaching a shaking hand out for the offered stick of gum. It was embarrassingly difficult to unwrap since his hand was trembling and he could only be grateful neither offered to help. As directed he stuck it in his mouth and after a few chews he was shocked about how much more clear headed he felt. “How? I don’t understand.”
Lestrade seemed pleased with himself and smirked a bit. “I found that the taste of mint helps stop the flashbacks. I’m not quite sure how it works but drinking some mint tea or chewing on a mint leaf works just as well; holding an ice cube works too. Now you just sit there and try and lower your heart rate some and it will keep you from cycling back, alright?”
Stupid charater limit. I hate chopping chapters up.
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This is slathered in awesome sauce. I love your characterizations here, the way John's awareness goes back and forth from Thomas (and his corpse) and Afghanistan to Sherlock and the warehouse. Very, very effective. I felt like I was in John's head.
And how much do I adore your Lestrade? He knows just how to handle John, pointing out that Sherlock will put himself in danger if he thinks John's in trouble. I love how calm and together Lestrade is, and how he really seems to understand. His totally understanding "Alright no touching; got it" really tore at my heart, because it not only speaks volumes about John, but it also speaks volumes about Lestrade. The fact Lestrade knows these clever tricks to keep someone from cycling back into the flashbacks... well, I'm just dying to know the back story there.
I can't wait to see where this goes next. It's amazing how immersed you make me feel in this scene: it's very intense and very poignant, just what I was hoping for and much more. *huge hugs* Thank you!
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(once again, agreeing w/everything the OP says. oh verbose OP, how you help the ~unfortunate~ ones!)
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He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them and then rested his head on his knees. It made him feel small and vulnerable, something it killed him to do in front of the detectives, but it was an instinctively comforting position and it blocked out the smell some. One of the things his therapist had taught him that he actually found some use for was breathing exercises.
Breathe in through your nose, hold it, and slowly exhale through mouth. Again. In, hold it, out. In, hold it, out.
See, it was all fine.
A suddenly vibrating from him pocket made him jump and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone. John fumbled with it and ignored the two inspectors whose attention he had drawn with the sudden motion. Sherlock’s name lit up screen and he was momentarily confused because Sherlock never called when he could text.
“Hello?”
“Are you alright?” The irritation in the detective’s voice could be heard clearly even over the phone though the slight tinge of worry was much harder to detect.
Sometimes he wondered how people could honestly believe Sherlock was a sociopath but then he had to remember he saw a side of the man that no one else did. “Yeah I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“Don’t be asinine; I’m not the one on clearly on the verge of a panic attack.” John looked up and over to where Sherlock was sitting scrunched into a tiny ball with his cell phone pressed to his ear and a thunderous expression on his face. He couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” John assured him. No doubt the man would think him hysterical, going from panicked to laughing with in moments.
“Let me talk to Lestrade.” With a sigh John held out the phone to the inspector who echoed his sentiments with a sigh of his own and took the offered cell.
“What? Look the CO19 is on its way so just sit tight.” John was unable to here what was being said on the other end of the line but it was no doubt unflattering if Lestrade’s expression was anything to go by. “No it’s fine, he’s fine. We have it under control. Well of course he’s laughing you look like a great big bloody vulture over there. Goodbye.”
Lestrade hung up and handed the phone back as calmly as if nothing had happened. “Well at least he was smart enough not to chance it by running over here. For someone as smart as he is, he can be really dumb.”
That time John didn’t bother to try and stop the laughter as he put his head back down between his knees.
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I feel so much for John, who doesn't want to look so vulnerable in front of the officers, but it's great to see him doing better. Your Sherlock here is spot on. I love that he actually calls instead of texts, so he can hear John's voice. And that he insists on verifying John's reassurances by talking to Lestrade (which says something about how much he trusts Lestrade, too).
I adore your Lestrade so much! He's totally calm and in control here, and I laughed at how well he handled Sherlock ("great big bloody vulture") and made John laugh. I just want to give all of them a huge hug.
This really is a great fic. I'm loving your gorgeous characterizations here. And I'm fascinated by how Lestrade knows so well how to handle panic attacks/PTSD. I can't wait for more! Thank you, thank you, thank you! *bounces*
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