FIC: Twisting And Turning The Colours In Rows, by leopardwrites
Title: Twisting And Turning The Colours In Rows
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock/John; Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, Lestrade, Moriarty, Moran & other various Sherlock characters plus minor OCs
Rating: PG-13
Warning/Spoiler: Violence, blood/gore, minor character death, bullying, homophobia, allusions to eating disorders
Note: For sherlockbigbang 2012! Massive thanks to harlequinehands for creating such a beautiful piece of artwork for this undeserving fic, to a8c_sock for being a brilliant mod and friend and to everyone else who has helped me out with it, including my extremely helpful beta circ_bamboo (any mistakes that remain are my own), my lovely cheerleader paintedame, and thanks also to my unofficial cheerleaders along the way (you know who you are, if I mention you all this will end up like an awards ceremony and someone will tell me to sit down)
Summary: Sherlock/Let The Right One In Fusion (knowledge of film/book not needed). John Watson is an isolated thirteen year old boy: he’s got a distant mother, a resentful older sister, and a sadistic bully at school called Moriarty who’s got it in for him. When Sherlock Holmes moves in next door, he and John form a rapid, intense friendship based on their mutual loneliness. Unfortunately for John, Sherlock has got issues that go much deeper than loneliness.
“I need blood to live, yes.”
John lets that sink in. “So are you… are you dead? Undead? How old are you, really?”
The lightbulb above them flickers and Sherlock’s fingers tap out a short rhythm on the glass as he thinks about his answer. John copies the rhythm, softer, quieter.
“I’m conscious,” Sherlock says with a small shrug of one shoulder. “I move, respire, react to my environment… I miss a few of the basic life processes, but I think I qualify as ‘alive’. And I’m thirteen, like I told you.” A rueful smile, and his hand drops to his side. “But I have been thirteen for longer than is naturally possible.”
Disclaimer: This is the bit where they make me say I don't own anything. Sherlock is the property of the BBC, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and, of course, the one and only Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Let The Right One In belongs to John Ajvide Lindqvist
Word Count: ~28,500
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Epilogue
On AO3
The stunning artwork of harlequinehands can be found here. Please go and lavish praise on her for her fantastic work.
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock/John; Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, Lestrade, Moriarty, Moran & other various Sherlock characters plus minor OCs
Rating: PG-13
Warning/Spoiler: Violence, blood/gore, minor character death, bullying, homophobia, allusions to eating disorders
Note: For sherlockbigbang 2012! Massive thanks to harlequinehands for creating such a beautiful piece of artwork for this undeserving fic, to a8c_sock for being a brilliant mod and friend and to everyone else who has helped me out with it, including my extremely helpful beta circ_bamboo (any mistakes that remain are my own), my lovely cheerleader paintedame, and thanks also to my unofficial cheerleaders along the way (you know who you are, if I mention you all this will end up like an awards ceremony and someone will tell me to sit down)
Summary: Sherlock/Let The Right One In Fusion (knowledge of film/book not needed). John Watson is an isolated thirteen year old boy: he’s got a distant mother, a resentful older sister, and a sadistic bully at school called Moriarty who’s got it in for him. When Sherlock Holmes moves in next door, he and John form a rapid, intense friendship based on their mutual loneliness. Unfortunately for John, Sherlock has got issues that go much deeper than loneliness.
“I need blood to live, yes.”
John lets that sink in. “So are you… are you dead? Undead? How old are you, really?”
The lightbulb above them flickers and Sherlock’s fingers tap out a short rhythm on the glass as he thinks about his answer. John copies the rhythm, softer, quieter.
“I’m conscious,” Sherlock says with a small shrug of one shoulder. “I move, respire, react to my environment… I miss a few of the basic life processes, but I think I qualify as ‘alive’. And I’m thirteen, like I told you.” A rueful smile, and his hand drops to his side. “But I have been thirteen for longer than is naturally possible.”
Disclaimer: This is the bit where they make me say I don't own anything. Sherlock is the property of the BBC, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss and, of course, the one and only Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Let The Right One In belongs to John Ajvide Lindqvist
Word Count: ~28,500
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Epilogue
On AO3
The stunning artwork of harlequinehands can be found here. Please go and lavish praise on her for her fantastic work.