Trying not to love youYou call to me, and I fall at your feet
How could anyone ask for more?
And our time apart, like knives in my heart
How could anyone ask for more?
"JJJOOOHHHNNN" I heard my flatmate shout from downstairs his voice strained. He'd been gone for 2 weeks saying it was one of those cases he'd best do himself not even telling me as to where he was going. It hurt to know that he would rather do some things without me but I wasn't complaining to him if he still came back home. I rushed down the stairs and for the first time in 10 days set eyes on my flatmate.
My heart almost stopped at the sight of the blood pouring from his shoulder as he layed on the floor, barely conscious. I rushed over to him falling to my knees grabbing the first aid box from beside the sofa as I did so and let my medical training take over. Why didn't he take me with him? I would have stopped this! I could have been the one hurt instead of him and I realised painfully I would give almost anything for that to be the case
The deductions of one John WatsonWarning - Slash! Don't like dont read.The deductions of one John Watson3 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Disclaimer - I do not own Sherlock /3
and please enjoy and let me know what you think
It should have been obvious to me from the moment that that I walked into the living room at Irene's house that Sherlock was indeed in love with this women. The wonderful, mystery that was Irene Adler had caught the attention of my friend, my companion, my reason for living, Sherlock Holmes. When he thought her died the emotion he felt towards her, the sadness in the song he wrote, the sadness in even his cold hearted eyes it was almost too much to bare.
I had to wonder if he'd feel that way for me. Would he almost cry at the thought of me died? Would he run to the end of the earth to save me, like I know he'd done for her when he thinks I'm stupid enough to believe Mycroft's story of her death. Sherlock may have been able to fool his brother into his cold-heartedness but me it was more difficult. I'd seen the way her very smile had caused his heart to flutter
Must Be MadTitle: Must Be MadMust Be Mad3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Rating: Mild T (13+)
Summary: There are some things none of us understand. Things like falling in love with Sherlock Holmes.
Warnings: Slash. May trigger intense periods of crying over the cruelty of the BBC.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. If I did, the series finale would certainly not have involved John Watson's heart breaking into a million tiny pieces.
Notes: This is kind of part of a series of fics (Must Be Mad, More Than I Am, Lovers of the Lost, and Of Course, Of Course.) They can be read as a series, or as stand-alone stories
Invisible TextsInvisible TextsInvisible Texts3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
John X Sherlock
"I need some air!" John stormed out of the flat, quickly grabbing the phone on the table before rushing down the stairs.
He had really done it this time. It had been a long day at the clinic, filled with sick and whinging patients and his lack of sleep had run him ragged this week, and had only just returned to the flat to find a dead midget body strewn across the dining table in the kitchen.
"It's for an experiment, he donated his body to science, so it perfectly legal"
"But why is he on our kitchen table?"
"Where better to cultivate the bacteria? I need to keep a close eye on it. And I know my favorite blogger gets lonely without me" he smiled jokingly at John as he eyed the body.
"I'll be fine if you want to stay at the hospital"
"Well it's not only that, I have other experiments here that require my attention"
"Sherlock, I'm not comfortable with this!"
"It'll only be maybe a month or two-"
"I want it out now!"
An argument had broken out af
Somebody loves youSpoilers for ´´A scandal in belgravia´´Somebody loves you3 years ago in Romance More Like This
set right after the episode
John arrived home to find Sherlock gazing out the window,to the dark,cold London.
He was deep drowned on his thoughts,John knew that,so he didn´t interrupt him and took off his coat,placing it on the couch,trying not to think that Sherlock´s thoughts were probably directed to that woman as he made his way to the kitchen.A hot,steamy cup of tea as his intended goal.
He turned his head,Sherlock hadn´t moved a muscle.If he didn´t know the man so well he would have thought he had heard things.But he did know him,after all.
´´Yes,Sherlock?´´ he answered,straightening up a bit
´´I need your help with and experiment.´´ The taller man said,this time turning his head a bit,John knew it wasn´t a request,his tone was more like an order.
Normally John would have asked what was it about,or
Nursery Rhymes Are Deadly 1London Bridge is Falling DownNursery Rhymes Are Deadly 14 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Another long, boring day. Sherlock and John hadn't had a case in over two weeks and the doctor could tell the boredom was beginning to take its toll on the detective. The man would occasionally stand up walk to the door or the window then stop and turn quickly and half run half shuffle over to the other side of the apartment. Twice he had gone to the fridge, opened it, stared inside then slammed the door making his flatmate jump in surprise.
"Will you sit down please? You're making me nervous." John said finally, slamming his computer shut. He had been trying to update his blog but unfortunately Sherlock's constant movement was becoming a bit of a distraction.
"You like being nervous." Sherlock countered, not even looking at him.
"True as that may be I would like to focus. Sit down and watch the telly or something." the doctor said.
"Eh. Boring." the detective said returning to the sofa and falling onto it none to gracefully.
"I'm sure something wil
Senses"Sherlock what are you doing?" John asked as his flatmate pulled him out of his chair.Senses3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"I need your help with an experiment. Nothing dangerous I promise." Sherlock assured him, letting the doctor's arm drop to his side once he was on his feet.
John rolled his eyes. "Can't you experiment on yourself? I was reading."
"You can read later. I already did this experiment on myself and I need to know the results are consistent."
Sherlock shook his head. "Can't tell you or you'll think the same thing is happening to you when it really isn't. Power of suggestion and all that. Now, may I start?"
John rolled his eyes but nodded. How bad could it be if Sherlock had already undergone the mysterious experiment and was standing in front of him, as alive and energetic as ever. Sherlock grinned and quickly tied a blindfold over John's eyes.
"Sherlock! What the hell are you doing?" the doctor asked, crying out in surprise.
"Calm down John. I read a while ago that if you cut off one sense
Home againAUTHOR'S NOTE: this is sequel to the story "A month after." If I were you I'd read that story first. Thank you.Home again3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock Holmes's returned to 221B Baker Street after his "death" 5 hours and thirty two minutes ago. And to be honest he didn't expect that reaction from Mrs. Hudson and John. Especially from John. The consulting detective thought Mrs. Hudson would faint and Dr. Watson would punch him in the face. Or somewhere else. But instead of that Sherlock saw his friend with hopeless eyes and the gun in his hand, ready to die.
And that's caused pain. Sharp pain inside Sherlock Holmes's heart. The feeling of constant grief has been living in Sherlock all of these 18 month. 18 month Sherlock Holmes was dead to his best friend. And 18 month he has been solving crimes in China, Japan, New Zealand just not to think about John's sufferings. But every evening, just like Mycroft predicted he watched his Doctor via cameras on Baker Street. There was time when the detective was ruining everythin
Johnlock - I believe in you, SherlockSherlock suddenly howled in frustration after four hours of deep thinking.Johnlock - I believe in you, Sherlock3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He had been leaning on his hands for the entire time, occasionally blinking and frowning, but still completely motionless. Even though the noise shocked me, I was relieved to know that he hadn't become comatose in his state of thought.
"You okay Sherlock?" I asked, not looking up from my paper.
"This case doesn't make any sense, John! Nothing fits together, there are too many variables!"
"Oh yes?" I murmured, only half paying attention.
"I wanted to get this case solved by tomorrow afternoon, but at this rate it'll take me days.. My brain isn't working, John!" He cried, spinning and falling onto the sofa with a winded exhale.
"You know that's not true. Perhaps if you went to bed or relaxed a little you could think more clearly."
Sherlock growled, facing the back of the sofa and curling into a ball. His tie and coat lay strewn on the floor from when he walked in, and his tie was hanging loosely from his shirt. He
The violinThe ViolinThe violin3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John's eyes flickered up from his dreary paper as the melodic, sad notes flowed off of Sherlock's violin. Sherlock stood with his back to John, his lean figure elegantly moving in slow, sad circles with his violin outstretched in his arms. The golden morning light curtained around his body, sending long shadows across the room. John felt mesmerised by the he played it with such ease, twisting and turning. The violin sang a sad song, and John almost found himself sad just to hear it.
Sherlock abruptly stopped playing, letting his arm drop and ceasing the song clumsily. John frowned, and quickly had the sense to avert his eyes back to his paper before he turned around.
Sherlock let the violin rest on his neck. He turned slightly towards John his eyes fixed on him as he tried to figure him out.
"John," He began, squinting in the light. "Do you play?"
John frowned. "Instrument wise?"
Sherlock nodded vaguely. He smiled slightly as John met his gaze and lowered his instrument.
Sherlock: Consequences IThe Consequences of Our ActionsSherlock: Consequences I4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"I am so changeable," Moriarty's voice echoed through the room, reverberating against the tiles, making it sound hollow. "You can't be aloud to continue You just can't."
The words did not matter. They could have been anything. It was the voice, that voice that seemed to crawl into your head and stay there, moving along the inside of your skull. Any of those things would not have mattered to Sherlock, he would not be intimidated so easily. Except Moriarty was something new. He could not judge his motivations, could not gage his reactions.
And the cold fear that crept up Sherlock's spine was starting to show on his face. His eyes betrayed it. His back was still turned to Moriarty, so he wouldn't see. But John saw. Sherlock looked at John. John's face was almost apologetic, as if this was somehow his fault. It wasn't a reasonable thought.
"I would try to convince you ," Moriarty's voice echoed through the hollow space. "But e
SH Crying Over Spilt CyanideCrying over split Cyanide introSH Crying Over Spilt Cyanide4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
John didn't know if he'd be able to forgive him. Not at first.
The way he'd strolled oh so calmly into 221b, bold as brass, asking about milk. Milk, of all bloody things right then milk. Something normal.
But the whole damn situation wasn't normal. Nowhere near normal.
But yet, there he was, acting as if the last three years were just a figment of John's imagination.
"No, John, don't be stupid, I didn't die in your arms. I didn't bleed to death as you bent over me, crying my name. Didn't whisper your name with my last breath. And I certainly didn't close my eyes one final time as you begged me to stay with you. And I most definitely didn't have a funeral three years ago to the day.
"By the way, do we have any milk? I'd kill for some coffee."
MiscommunicationJohn had been acting strangely. Ever since the incident at the pool with Moriarty he had been skittish. He might have thought Sherlock didn't notice but of course he did. Every time they were in a room together John would make an excuse to leave. He would be sitting in his chair when Sherlock would come into the room and sit down on the sofa. Within minutes John would start twitching, his hands would clench and unclench and he would start looking over his shoulder. Then he would rise and go up to his room or leave to do the shopping. Or just leave, no excuse given.Miscommunication3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
At first Sherlock thought it was just normal nerves. The man had been strapped to a bomb, it was normal not to want to stay still for too long. Movement made you harder to catch. But he seemed to have no trouble staying still for long periods of time when the consulting detective wasn't within his range of vision. He knew because he'd followed him one day and watched him sit on a park bench for an hour and a half.
Be with youThere are many people who wonder why such a friendly, ordinary and above all, sane man like John Watson willingly tags along with the arrogant, one-of-a-kind and insane Sherlock Holmes. John knows this, and he also knows no one will ever actually ask him. They're all curious, but too afraid to step up and just get it over with. Whether their fear has to do with the possibility of having to speak to Sherlock as well is not clear, though it is the most credible option. Either way, it doesn't bother John that all these people dare to do is look at him from a distance, eyes filled with questions they are unable to ask because they're cowards. It gives him a sense of importance, really, a powerful feeling he's admittedly growing quite fond of.Be with you3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Of course, this does not go unnoticed by Sherlock. (Nothing ever does, unless it has to do with the latest winner of X Factor who everyone talks about and Sherlock walks away before anyone asks him about it. Ever since the solar system r
MysteryMysteryMystery3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Sherlock Holmes had always been a mystery to Dr John Watson. Hell, to everyone. But over the course of knowing him, John had been noticing less than human, things about the consulting detective.
First it was the colour of his skin. Sure, Brits have pale skin, but Sherlock's was oddly, pale. White, even. Like, white as in dead white. It was strange at first, but John just shook it off. He'd been used to tan skin for quite some time.
Second, the clothes. Sherlock seemed to like to cover as much skin as possible. John shrugged it off as the man's style. And London was cold.
The third thing was the way Sherlock talked. High class, posh manner. Even his voice was, posh-ish. His brother, Mycroft, talked in the same manner. But that was how they were raised, John had told himself
Fourth was the personality. Distant. Self-confessed sociopath. Always bored. It was peculiar to John, but then again, everyone thought Sherlock Holmes was peculiar.
The fifth thing, he didn't eat or slee
There is nothing wrong with youSherlock irrelatively sighs. It will be great if someone at last dies or steals something or commits suicide or kills someone at least. But there is nothing.There is nothing wrong with you3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Nothing, because Sherlock after the returning to life from his "death" can not investigate in the usual manner (bursts into the crime scene, breaking every rules, because Scotland Yard needs him). From the police only Lestrade knows that Sherlock Holmes is actually alive and he realizes why it is important to keep that information in secret. But this means that Sherlock can interfere only in the really tough cases.
And that makes the Consulting Detective bored. So very very booored.
He yawns and rubs his cheek, lying on the sofa. Then Sherlock turns his face to see what his friend doing.
John Watson sits, typing something on the laptop; the white cup stands near him, the cup with rough black tea. Without sugar.
But Sherlock's attention has been caught not because of tea.
Sherlock jerkily stands up and in two steps fin
The Greatest Truth- SherlockContinuation of The Biggest LieThe Greatest Truth- Sherlock3 years ago in Drama More Like This
They say the truth
shall set you free.
Will the truth
bring you back to me?
The minutes, hours and days began to bleed into each other. Nothing could distract Sherlock from the absence of his John. Experiments could not hold his attention, every image on the telly reminded him of days spent lounging on the sofa with John, every man on the street below reminded him how no one could ever replace his wonderful doctor, every note he played on his violin sounded like John, John, John.
By the fourth day he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled his sorry self off the sofa, grabbed his coat and scarf and made his way to the first place he could think where John might have gone.
He arrived on Sarah's doorstep less than an hour later but found himself hesitating before pressing the bell. Finally working up the nerve he rang the bell. A few moments later a very annoyed Sarah stood in the doorway, glaring at him.
"What do you want Holmes?" she asked.
Always Look at the Hands"Always look at the hands first, John."Always Look at the Hands3 years ago in Romance More Like This
That's what he had told him once. He didn't know if John had paid any attention to it, but it was one of his sure-fire methods of deduction. After observing one's hands, you were then to examine the cuffs of their clothing, their trousers, and then the trainers or boots.
One quiet night at Baker Street, John had been lying on the couch reading, but only after an hour or so had dozed off and the book had slumped onto his chest. Sherlock had come into the room, looking for something, but he lost the thought (a rare occurrence for him) when he saw John. Looking so peaceful. He knew that everyone looked peaceful when they slept, but still, he couldn't help but walk over to the couch and just look at him, and after a few minutes, he kneeled beside him to look closer. He took in everything. The way John's breath was deep and how his chest rose and fell, how his hands still held the book, how every once in a while he would swallow and take a de
Johnlock - Speaking Silent Words - Fluff WarningIt's been about a week since me and Sherlock decided to go steady.Johnlock - Speaking Silent Words - Fluff Warning3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
To be honest, nothing much has changed. I'd confessed my feelings over dinner 8 days ago, and received a frosty reception from the detective. Considering it had taking much mental convincing and building up to the point where I could confront him on my feelings, I found it hard to take. We spent the rest of the night in silence, as Sherlock zoned out to think (or just purposely ignored me) and I simply couldn't think of anything to begin another conversation.
I'd be lying if i said that I got much sleep that night. Well, neither did Sherlock. I woke up to him being in the exact same spot, wearing the same clothes as the night before, except this time, his fingers weren't pent, and his bright grey eyes weren't glazed over as they usually were when he thought. Instead, he sat crossed legged in his chair reading yesterdays paper. A paper he'd already read.
"Ah! You're up." He said brightly, folding his paper and placing it
Iced Mint"John? What do I smell like?" They were both lying face up on John's bed, with Sherlock's head nestled between John's neck, and John's right arm resting against Sherlock's chest.Iced Mint3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Icy." It was the first word that popped into his mind. "You always smell clean. Hang on." John sat up and rolled over so that he was on top of Sherlock, and he nuzzled his neck, taking in a deep breath and Sherlock gave a few small but deep laughs at the sensation.
"Mmmm…" John sighed out in delight. He took in another breath and smiled. He loved that smell–it was unlike anything he'd ever smelled, and he had never really truly understood the meaning of "intoxicating" until he had smelled Sherlock. Come to think of it, there were a lot of things he found intoxicating about Sherlock Holmes. The way his body seemed to be sculpted of marble. His black as night hair that always had a few perfectly formed ringlets. His iridescent eyes. The way his voice deepened when he wanted something. The
Sherlock : Greenwich"Shit" John hissed quietly, looking at Sherlock's wound. It wasn't long but deep. A clean cut in the middle of a tight. "Holy shit..." he mounded, taking the scarf off his boyfriend's neck. "Okay, Sherlock. I need you to hold still, I know it hurts, but... Blimey! Stupid blood."Sherlock : Greenwich4 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Oh, John for God's sake!" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I didn't move an inch, since you put me on this damn ground! I bet you didn't realise it because you are too busy worrying about me and nursing me, and probably because your deduction is resting in Mariana Trench, but I am fine! Fine! It is just a scratch which will heal in no time! So can we just stand up and run after a murderer, who is probably on the other side of Thames by the way, and try to catch him while we still can?"
Watson looked at his boyfriend and shook his head. He was impossible, purely impossible.
"Sorry mate, but I don't think you're going to be able to run for... at least several weeks. And don't tell me it doesn't hurt. I'm a doctor here
Accepting Fate: Sherlock JohnBored, so very bored I regret that. I want to be boredAccepting Fate: Sherlock John3 years ago in Settings More Like This
I race inside where I think they are hiding him and if I'm right he'll be here.
John's chained to a bed. My hands are trembling. How could this have happened? How could I have been so careless?
He's passed out on the bed, his shirts off, and sweat drips down his body. I race to his side to quiet my fears. I put my hands on him. I run my hands up his chest; put my head on his heart. Of course he's breathing but his heart is beating out of his chest. How could this have happened? How could I have been so careless?
"Sherlock?" John's eyes open and he tries to put on a hand on my hair, forgetting he's still handcuffed to the bed.
"John!" I put my head up and look deep into his eyes. His face is flushed and his eyes look longingly. "I'm sorry I took so long, I "
"Sherlock I just need to g
You Don't Need a Girlfriend"You're wasting your time." Sherlock said uncaringly, as John walk in and stripped his coat.You Don't Need a Girlfriend2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock didn't look up at him, he just sat staring at the wall, hands stapled under his chin. John paused at the coat rack, thinking over what Sherlock just said.
"Excuse me?" He asked, turning and taking three long, brief strides to Sherlock.
"You very well heard me, it's useless for me to repeat myself." Sherlock said, sending him a sideways glance.
"And what are you talking about when you say I'm wasting my time?" John asked, leaning on the table in front of Sherlock.
"All your girlfriends and -dates-. You're wasting your time." Sherlock lowered his hands and stared at John.
John raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh? Is that so? Just because I want to have some fun? Just because I want to actually have a girlfriend?"
"You don't need a girlfriend." Sherlock said, standing and going into the kitchen, starting up the kettle.
"Why's that?" John followed Sherlock into the
Three times John Watson was...THREE TIMES JOHN WATSON WAS A GOOD DOCTOR, ONE HE WAS BAD AND ONE TIME HE MANAGED TO BE A GOOD PATIENT.Three times John Watson was...4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
THREE TIMES JOHN WATSON WAS A GOOD DOCTOR
Come at once, your presence is very much needed. SH
At work, can't leave. Once make tea yourself JW
I need to consult you in the medical matter. SH
If you glared mycrofts head off, then no, there is nothing i can do. JW
Fascinating. You really think you're funny. SH
How can one pull an inch of glass splinter out of one's foot? SH
Your kidding JW
MY kidding? It hurts. SH
If YOU'RE wondering, your grammar and my foot both hurt. Can't tell which one more. Foot, I think. SH
don't move, i'll be in 10. JW
Oh my, that puts an end to my desire to run a marathon right now. Are you thinking when you're writing, or you just hit letters at random? SH
John Watson, using his very own brand of magic and/or several quantum paradoxes, managed to get to the flat in 7 minutes and 47 seconds; he took another fifteen seconds to climb up the sta
ExperimentSherlock was laying on the couch, presumably thinking, possibly asleep. John hardly ever had a chance to sit there himself, as Sherlock was always occupying it. John eyed him for a moment, and then something snapped and he decided to go ahead with the impulse he’d been secretly fighting. He came and stood over him minute before letting his knee rest next to Sherlock’s leg and leaning across with his arm on the back of the couch. Sherlock didn’t move, so he continued to climb on top of him.Experiment2 years ago in Romance More Like This
“John, what are you doing?” Sherlock asked lazily without opening his eyes.
“Experiment,” he replied cheekily.
“Really?” Sherlock’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“You’re not the only one who does experiments on his flat-mate.” John said matter-of-factly, settling himself along Sherlock’s full length and letting his head come to rest over Sherlock’s heart a