Micro-Fill: God loves in him. And he in God.
anonymous
May 24 2011, 03:06:33 UTC
"John - John, I - I don't know if you can hear me. The Doctors say you can't but I - well, it's not like they have any empirical evidence so I think I'm within my rights to presume that they're wrong. You'll have to tell me which of us is right when you wake up. I'm sure you'll simply confirm - confirm -."
There's a sound like a sob, buried by the life support machines.
"Sorry, spring outside - I always get these terrible allergies every year and - and - and it's not like you'd know because it's not as if we've ever spent a spring together is it? And my allergies are entirely beside the point. Except - except that - except -. What am I saying? John, get up! You need to wake up because it's Spring outside and my allergies are terrible and I think you ought to go make me some tea.
"... or, I suppose I could make you tea? I make rubbish tea - Mycroft always complained that it was too bitter and Mummy said it was too sweet. Mycroft takes even more sugar in his than I do. You should - that is, we should have him over for tea some time
( ... )
Sanctification, Part 1
anonymous
May 24 2011, 21:34:40 UTC
Comment boxed. And I thought I'd do one that wasn't John.
Some of the changes were immediate and John didn't expect them to last. The Bible that had been sitting on Sherlock's bookshelf collecting dust was suddenly being taken out and read at least once a day, turning up all over the flat. Amusingly, it once turned up opened to Psalm 23, right next to one of Sherlock's more horrifically gory experiments involving a large intestine and several live leeches. John never asked for the full story on that one.
And Sherlock started disappearing for about two hours every Sunday morning. It was December and and utterly horrid outside, so he'd return to the flat all windblown and red-cheeked and sniffly from the cold, but he kept at it, week after week.
For about two months, anyway. After that the old King James went back to its place on the shelf and Sherlock would occasionally sleep in on Sundays again, though he still vanished more often than not. John wasn't sure what had brought on that experiment, but he was fairly sure it was
( ... )
Re: Sanctification, Part 2
anonymous
May 24 2011, 21:59:39 UTC
Which was essentially how this worked. He was still the same Sherlock, when you got right down to it. Still snappish and brilliant and utterly oblivious to how people felt. He still talked Molly into bending the rules in St. Bart's morgue for him (although he wasn't cruel about it anymore). But he was more careful about who he snapped at and more generous with his insights and...well, the obliviousness was just the same as it had always been, even if he occasionally seemed to try harder. In fact, some days, John had the odd notion that he was more like himself now than he ever had been
( ... )
Re: Sanctification, Part 2pinkninjapjMay 28 2011, 02:57:51 UTC
I love this, so much. It was all so very real, the struggles sometimes and the heart change, and how sometimes it's really just not easy being a Christian and a different person.
This right here was my favourite of all: "I like mysteries," Sherlock countered. "And I'm going to spend forever trying to solve some of these." He sighed. "In any case, I may not be able to prove God to you, but I have no doubts about Him. I really don't." He hesitated and then said, "You're...always welcome to join me of a Sunday...if you want?"
RE: Re: Sanctification, Part 2
anonymous
July 13 2020, 12:13:35 UTC
I like the sentence regarding mysteries, but doesn't Sherlock like solving mysteries? I mean his whole detective thing is essentially for the rush of having solved a puzzle. Canonically, he likes getting answers, while most churches operate on 'Don't question God'. Faith means accepting not just a belief without evidence (wouldn't that be difficult for Sherlock), but also accepting there will probably never be evidence
FILL: All is safely gathered in (1/2)saphanibaalMay 26 2011, 20:59:41 UTC
When John Watson doesn't make it to Sunday services because he's running around on a case with Sherlock -- or because he's having a lie-in after running around on a case with Sherlock -- he makes sure to go to Morning Prayer some other day that week, or at least Evensong; it's been his practice since he was a small boy to give time at least one day out of the seven to... well, "higher things" sounds ridiculous, but any synonym he's come up with just seems more ridiculous, and. Well. It's just a thing you do, that he's done whenever he isn't in a hospital bed or run entirely off his feet with combat and surgery; even on the grey days when he'd just got back to London, he went. Sometimes twice or three times a week, even if afterwards he'd slink out of the church without more than an obligatory response to anyone who greeted him (often enough, the sermon was the only time he could doze off without nightmares, long practice enabling him to jerk awake just before the prayer). John always makes sure to have at least a little something to
( ... )
All is safely gathered in (2/2)saphanibaalMay 26 2011, 21:00:35 UTC
Sherlock Holmes' interaction with organized religion might best be described as "sporadic." There are times when he's dashing about seemingly trying to sample the services of every church, not only in Westminster but over half of London (sometimes two or three in the same day) -- to say nothing of that of temples of various faiths, a mosque or two, and several rites taking places in somebody's parlor or garden -- leaving those who know him uncertain whether he's comparing the music, or the sermon, or the acoustics of the place, or what; at other times, he won't go near anything resembling a church or chapel (save for a case) for weeks on end
( ... )
Reply
- - -
In Afghanistan, there had been an unwritten rule amongst the soldiers in John's unit. By this rule, one did not pray.
"You don't pray," his Sargent had explained, "because the preachers pray over the dead."
"You don't pray," his LT had insisted, "because praying distracts you from aiming."
"You don't pray," Bill had murdered in his year, "Because God ain't listening."
But John hadn't followed their rule.
He prayed each morning when he woke, whole and alive.
He prayed each mealtime, when was given the shitastic crap that the army called food.
He prayed each night, for the souls of the patients who'd died and the lives of the ones still struggling to live.
If Afghanistan, John Watson had prayed.
In a cold, gray, lonely little flat in London, John Watson wondered why God had ever bothered to listen.
Reply
And... this was amazing. Thank you very much for writing this.
Reply
Reply
There's a sound like a sob, buried by the life support machines.
"Sorry, spring outside - I always get these terrible allergies every year and - and - and it's not like you'd know because it's not as if we've ever spent a spring together is it? And my allergies are entirely beside the point. Except - except that - except -. What am I saying? John, get up! You need to wake up because it's Spring outside and my allergies are terrible and I think you ought to go make me some tea.
"... or, I suppose I could make you tea? I make rubbish tea - Mycroft always complained that it was too bitter and Mummy said it was too sweet. Mycroft takes even more sugar in his than I do. You should - that is, we should have him over for tea some time ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Some of the changes were immediate and John didn't expect them to last. The Bible that had been sitting on Sherlock's bookshelf collecting dust was suddenly being taken out and read at least once a day, turning up all over the flat. Amusingly, it once turned up opened to Psalm 23, right next to one of Sherlock's more horrifically gory experiments involving a large intestine and several live leeches. John never asked for the full story on that one.
And Sherlock started disappearing for about two hours every Sunday morning. It was December and and utterly horrid outside, so he'd return to the flat all windblown and red-cheeked and sniffly from the cold, but he kept at it, week after week.
For about two months, anyway. After that the old King James went back to its place on the shelf and Sherlock would occasionally sleep in on Sundays again, though he still vanished more often than not. John wasn't sure what had brought on that experiment, but he was fairly sure it was ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
This right here was my favourite of all:
"I like mysteries," Sherlock countered. "And I'm going to spend forever trying to solve some of these." He sighed. "In any case, I may not be able to prove God to you, but I have no doubts about Him. I really don't." He hesitated and then said, "You're...always welcome to join me of a Sunday...if you want?"
Absolutely fantastic.
Reply
Reply
Which is another way of saying you're awesome.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment