Re: Short Fic Fill 1/2: Post aGoSanne85February 20 2012, 19:13:21 UTC
Hi! I just read this and had to write it! It's just a littel fill, but I hope you like it! ;-)
Ttile: Desperate housewife
It’s been 2 month since they have returned to their normal lives. At least Mary told herself so. She tried her best to be an understanding and caring wife to her John. But she couldn’t quit the feeling that regardless of which kind words or gestures she made, John couldn’t still return them.
Of course she had known that after Mr. Holmes sudden death John would be very upset and would mourn for his friend. But after all this weeks she would find it more than appropriate to quit mourning and to start moving on. She had desperately tried to distract her husband from any saddening thoughts. She had cooked John’s favourite dish, had placed flowers everywhere to lighten the mood, she even had seduced him a few times. But after their sweet lovemaking, it had always been at a single blow that John’s eyes had changed from delight to sadness again.
Mary wished she knew what would heal her John’s heart again.
She blamed Sherlock Holmes’ methods and his disturbing cases which had been sometimes very abnormal. She blamed Sherlock Holmes himself for pulling her John in such dangerous situations and using him for his own interests, for hurting him physically and mentally. She wished John would have never met Sherlock Holmes, so he would be free of all the sadness and physical wounds and scars which he had gathered in the past years. She wished she could make John forget of Sherlock Holmes at all.
It was only now that she noticed that her fingers had been formed into fists. She uncramped them and pushed the knitting wool away. It was time to have some tea. She ringed a bell and the maid entered the room.
“Would you please bring me some fresh tea, Clara”, Mary asked.
The maid nodded and was off again.
Mary sighed. She had known it wouldn’t be easy, but she never had expected it to be so hard.
After some minutes passed Clara was back with some fresh tea and some biscuits. “The postman just brought this letter, Mrs. Watson”, the maid said and looked to the letter which was lying on the tea plate as well.
Re: Short Fic Fill 2/2: Post aGoSanne85February 20 2012, 19:14:20 UTC
First Mary was a little bit suspicious but then she answered with a kind smile. “Thank you, Clara”. And the maid went off again.
Mary took the letter immediately. It was addressed to John. She sighed and wanted to put it away as she recognized the handwriting. She didn’t know where she had seen it before but it felt so familiar. The curiosity was growing inside of her. She quarreled with herself. She had always been a good wife and had respected John’s personal things, never touching anything before allowed to. But with this letter she couldn’t get rid of the growing curiosity in her stomach.
She looked up just to control that no one was entering the room and opened the seal carefully.
It was only just a single page with not so many written words. But the few words sufficed to make Mary catch her breath as she read:
My dear Watson,
I only write this few words to you to apologies for making you believe that I was dead. I cannot imagine what pain I must have caused you in making you believing it.
I just write to you now to tell you that I have done so to save you from any further harm.
I fear now my time has really come and Moran will catch me in the next few hours.
Take care, my dear friend.
Sincerely yours, Sherlock Holmes
Mary felt dizzy suddenly. This could not be true! Sherlock Holmes was alive!
With a shaking hand she reached for the tea and sipped on the cup.
If John read this, everything would start again! Mary could almost imagine the hope building in John’s eyes while reading this letter. He would be more than happy to know that his friend had survived. He would smile again and she would see the small wrinkles around his eyes again as he did so. And the sadness would leave him quickly.
It would make Mary so happy to finally see her John laughing again.
She read again: I fear now my time has really come and Moran will catch me in the next few hours.
But this was how it all would end again. Sherlock Holmes would be dead at last. This time for real. And Mary just couldn’t bear the thought of losing John again to this painful event. She couldn’t bear seeing him suffer again and going through this agony again. She could not let this happen again! She would not let John wallow in hope and then seeing him breaking in tiny little pieces again!
She could feel the anger rise in herself. Sherlock Holmes had no right to push her John through all of this again!
Mary stood up and went to the fireplace with the letter in hand. The impulse was so strong that she could do nothing else than to throw the letter into the fire.
There have been a second of hesitation and disbelief. But it was too late now. The letter burned and in a few seconds there would be no sign of a letter ever being there.
As John finally returned home and kissed her on the cheek with a little smile, she knew she had done the right thing. At least she could try to make herself believe it.
It's just a littel fill, but I hope you like it! ;-)
Ttile: Desperate housewife
It’s been 2 month since they have returned to their normal lives. At least Mary told herself so. She tried her best to be an understanding and caring wife to her John. But she couldn’t quit the feeling that regardless of which kind words or gestures she made, John couldn’t still return them.
Of course she had known that after Mr. Holmes sudden death John would be very upset and would mourn for his friend. But after all this weeks she would find it more than appropriate to quit mourning and to start moving on. She had desperately tried to distract her husband from any saddening thoughts. She had cooked John’s favourite dish, had placed flowers everywhere to lighten the mood, she even had seduced him a few times. But after their sweet lovemaking, it had always been at a single blow that John’s eyes had changed from delight to sadness again.
Mary wished she knew what would heal her John’s heart again.
She blamed Sherlock Holmes’ methods and his disturbing cases which had been sometimes very abnormal. She blamed Sherlock Holmes himself for pulling her John in such dangerous situations and using him for his own interests, for hurting him physically and mentally. She wished John would have never met Sherlock Holmes, so he would be free of all the sadness and physical wounds and scars which he had gathered in the past years. She wished she could make John forget of Sherlock Holmes at all.
It was only now that she noticed that her fingers had been formed into fists. She uncramped them and pushed the knitting wool away. It was time to have some tea. She ringed a bell and the maid entered the room.
“Would you please bring me some fresh tea, Clara”, Mary asked.
The maid nodded and was off again.
Mary sighed. She had known it wouldn’t be easy, but she never had expected it to be so hard.
After some minutes passed Clara was back with some fresh tea and some biscuits. “The postman just brought this letter, Mrs. Watson”, the maid said and looked to the letter which was lying on the tea plate as well.
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First Mary was a little bit suspicious but then she answered with a kind smile. “Thank you, Clara”. And the maid went off again.
Mary took the letter immediately. It was addressed to John. She sighed and wanted to put it away as she recognized the handwriting. She didn’t know where she had seen it before but it felt so familiar. The curiosity was growing inside of her. She quarreled with herself. She had always been a good wife and had respected John’s personal things, never touching anything before allowed to. But with this letter she couldn’t get rid of the growing curiosity in her stomach.
She looked up just to control that no one was entering the room and opened the seal carefully.
It was only just a single page with not so many written words. But the few words sufficed to make Mary catch her breath as she read:
My dear Watson,
I only write this few words to you to apologies for making you believe that I was dead. I cannot imagine what pain I must have caused you in making you believing it.
I just write to you now to tell you that I have done so to save you from any further harm.
I fear now my time has really come and Moran will catch me in the next few hours.
Take care, my dear friend.
Sincerely yours,
Sherlock Holmes
Mary felt dizzy suddenly. This could not be true! Sherlock Holmes was alive!
With a shaking hand she reached for the tea and sipped on the cup.
If John read this, everything would start again! Mary could almost imagine the hope building in John’s eyes while reading this letter. He would be more than happy to know that his friend had survived. He would smile again and she would see the small wrinkles around his eyes again as he did so. And the sadness would leave him quickly.
It would make Mary so happy to finally see her John laughing again.
She read again:
I fear now my time has really come and Moran will catch me in the next few hours.
But this was how it all would end again. Sherlock Holmes would be dead at last. This time for real. And Mary just couldn’t bear the thought of losing John again to this painful event. She couldn’t bear seeing him suffer again and going through this agony again. She could not let this happen again! She would not let John wallow in hope and then seeing him breaking in tiny little pieces again!
She could feel the anger rise in herself.
Sherlock Holmes had no right to push her John through all of this again!
Mary stood up and went to the fireplace with the letter in hand. The impulse was so strong that she could do nothing else than to throw the letter into the fire.
There have been a second of hesitation and disbelief. But it was too late now. The letter burned and in a few seconds there would be no sign of a letter ever being there.
As John finally returned home and kissed her on the cheek with a little smile, she knew she had done the right thing. At least she could try to make herself believe it.
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Yes, I thought so, too. ;-)
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