ReunionJohn sat at his laptop, staring at the empty space on his blog. It had been a while since he had sat down to type something intelligent and interesting, but today he felt he should write something. Anything. Today was the anniversary of Sherlock's - his old roomate and best-friend's death. John deemed today to be an appropriate day to pay homage in some small way. He began to type.
Three years. Three years today. There is so much to say, but cannot be expressed in words. I used to wonder why he did what he did. I still don't know why. All I hope is he is somewhere better. I believe in Sherlock Holmes. I still continue to do so. He was my best friend.
John hit the send button, and his blog was updated. He stared at the screen blankly for a few minutes, before resting his head in his hands. He inhaled deeply, like his therapist had directed him to do, and exhaled, trying to relax his trembling limbs. He expected it to get easier. With each passing anniversary of Sherlock's death, time wa
ForeverJohn was sitting in his arm chair, reading the paper as rain hit the window on the other side of the room. He felt eyes on him. He could feel the stares but he didn't dare look up. He was mad. Ferrous even. Mad that he had done this to him. Mad that he had left him alone for three bloody years.Forever3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mad that he loved him after it was all said and done.
"John..?" Sherlock's voice was barely audible being just above a whisper.
John ignored him.
"John? Please..." Sherlock sounded pitiful.
John turned the page to the paper. He was going to make Sherlock suffer as long as he could. He was alone for three years. He was depressed, alone, and pissed all that time. Depressed his best friend had killed himself. Alone in the world he didn't want to be in anymore. Pissed that Sherlock had done this to him.
Sherlock stood and moved over to John, snatching the paper out of his hands.
"Listen to me..." He begged, his eyes sad and a little annoyed.
"Give me the pap
The Stars in Your EyesAfter picking up his and Sherlock's favorite cereal from the store, John headed home. As usual. And as usual, Sherlock was up to some sort of experiment. Except this one was different. Much different than usual.The Stars in Your Eyes3 years ago in Romance More Like This
This one was pleasant.
When John opened the door to their flat, he was immediately greeted by the beauty of the night sky. Except it wasn't the real night sky, but instead, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of glow-in-the-dark stars. Some of them were as big as his palm, others as tiny as his fingerprints. And they were everywherethey covered the floors as well as the ceiling and walls, and he even saw some on the surfaces of the furniture.
Have we been invaded by martians or something?
"Sherlock?" John called out into the galaxy that had blown through their flat. He went over to the kitchen and left their cereal on the counter. "Sherlock!" He called a bit louder this time.
"What is it, John? I'm right here." John nearly jumped out of his skin, realizing that Sherlock had been
Late Night ShenanigansSummary: John is trying to sleep. Sherlock isn't letting him. So John shuts him up in his own way. Fluff.Late Night Shenanigans3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
John rolled over in bed, trying to find a position that would let him sleep. He was exhausted, but tonight just wasn't his night. His leg throbbed from when he'd banged it against a metal bar, and his right shoulder sent flashes of pain every time he moved. Of course he over-extended it catching their guy. Bloody criminals never knew when to give up.
By some miracle he actually found a comfortable position. He soon drifted off into a mostly-asleep state. Oh well, it was good enough for him.
He had a few blissful minutes of rest before his bedroom door slammed open.
John groaned and tried to cover his ears with his pillow. Sherlock's voice still made it through to his ears.
"and I wracked my mind but I could not identify the compound, and that is entirely unacceptable, so I decided to experiment with known compounds
Sherlock BBC: The Meowing ProblemSensing that it was John, who was coming home and not someone else, didn't prove a challenge to the great Sherlock Holmes. Doctor Watson had this very specific way of opening the front door, unique pace of climbing the stairs and breathing pattern that somehow felt soothing. But Sherlock, sitting in his armchair and browsing through a newspaper, knew that something was different today. All those little habits of John's were slightly altered. Perhaps due to the rain that kept falling incessantly for the whole day. Whatever the reason, Sherlock was mildly intrigued. Something was afoot.Sherlock BBC: The Meowing Problem3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Hello, John," he said casually, eyes fixed on John.
"Hello, Sherlock," John replied quickly and hurried to the kitchen, clearly trying to avoid the attention of his flatmate. Obviously, that had quite the opposite effect, especially when a muffled "meow" could be heard coming from the general direction of John.
"John?" Sherlock asked with misleading calmness.
"Yes?" The water was dripping from him as if
BBC Sherlock: NightmaresThe moment John woke up, he knew something was wrong. He was a light sleeper, courtesy of Afghanistan, so any sign of danger could instantly jolt him wide awake. And now he clearly sensed that his life was hanging by a thread. However, John decided to be cautious and not to make any unnecessary movements, which might provoke an assault. Instead he just opened his eyes slightly and carefully scanned the room shrouded in darkness. Yes, his instinct didn't fail him. There was someone standing at the door. The stranger was motionless, but John could hear him breathing irregularly, as if he just stopped running and tried to calm down. A shadowy, anonymous silhouette, like a monster from children's nightmares.BBC Sherlock: Nightmares3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
John felt fear rising in his chest, but years of being a soldier helped him to maintain his cool. His mind started racing, desperately trying to figure out what to do. He thought about the gun he kept in a bedside table's drawer, but he doubt he'd be quick enough to grab it before th
Can I Kiss You, SherlockJohn traced his thumb against Sherlock's lively pink lip, looking deep into the detective's blue/gray, mysterious eyes. Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss this man, he didn't even know! His heart started pounding, hard, against his chest, fighting to get out.Can I Kiss You, Sherlock3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I don't see any damage, Sherlock..." John muttered, his thumb still skimming that delicate lip.
"Keep looking." Sherlock urged. "I know there must be something wrong with it! It hurts..."
Sometimes Sherlock made this face. It reminded John so much of a helpless little kid, and it was adorable. John's heart stopped as Sherlock's eyes looked so helplessly into his own, and he gasped lightly for breath. He panted, in a way, wanting to bring Sherlock closer.
John moved closer to Sherlock's face, examining the lip for tiny cuts of any kind. Of course, there were none that he could see... but he couldn't look away from that pair of adorable lips. He wanted to claim them as his own with his.
"Keep looking, John." Sherlo
Theme Prompt - StripesTwo exhausted men limped their way up the stairs to 221B. They had just finished a wild chase through the streets of London and caught a murderer, though both had been harmed in the process. John was limping, his left ankle sprained from landing wrong after jumping a fence. Sherlock grimaced, his hand running across his back. He had tripped, tripped, and slammed into a metal fence. The bars had left stripes across his back, the bruising aching as his shirt brushed it.Theme Prompt - Stripes3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Let's not do that again for a while, Sherlock," John said, heading to the kitchen to make tea.
"I heartily concur," Sherlock groaned, easing his coat off. The lost weight was enough to calm the ache in his back and he sat down in his armchair. He forgot about the scarf and flipped through the paper. He took the cup of tea absently as John walked back in and handed it to him. The doctor groaned as he eased himself down into his own chair.
"Anything interesting in the news?" John asked sardonically. He knew most thi
BBC Sherlock: In Bed"I'm dying, John!" Sherlock whined, looking at his flatmate like a sad puppy.BBC Sherlock: In Bed3 years ago in Humor More Like This
John rolled his eyes.
"No, you're not. You've just got a cold," he explained patiently, pointing his finger at Sherlock to show who was to blame for the whole situation. "I told you not to run around the flat barefooted and only in your dressing gown!"
Sherlock sneezed loudly three times in a row and then huffed with annoyance.
"My head is pounding, I can't think!" He protested while wrinkling his nose in indignation.
John sighed heavily.
"No wonder, you have a high fever. Just stay in bed and wait till the medicines I gave you will kick in."
"I won't, staying in bed is boring!" Sherlock stated defiantly, sat up and folded his arms on his chest.
"Sherlock, lie down!" A note of warning could be heard in John's voice. He used that tone to his most problematic patients at the hospital.
"No!" Holmes pouted like a stubborn child, ostentatiously not looking at John.
"Lie. Down." John repeated more force
CondomsJohn bent down to examine a box of tea when he felt a hand on his shoulder. A long, dramatic sigh sounded above him.Condoms3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Get bored of people watching out front, Sherlock?" John asked, giving Sherlock a glance up for a second before turning back to the tea.
"Yep. Everyone is so booooring!" Sherlock said dramatically, throwing his head back.
"I'm sorry we're all so boring to you," John mused, shooting him an angry glance.
John stood and sighed, rubbing his knee. He threw the tea in his basket and started down the aisle, listening to Sherlock follow him.
"Oh, don't be like that, John. You know you're not quiet as boring as everyone else," Sherlock said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Sherlock suddenly reached into John's basket and pulled out a box.
"What are -these-?" He asked, turning the box over. "Condoms? What do you need -condoms- for? I know you take them on your dates and all, but you never -use- them."
John's face brightened and he reached for the box, Sherlock pulling it out of
BBC Sherlock: Wanting moreJohn had sometimes really strange dreams and the one he was experiencing right now was definitely among the weirdest. He felt a big and slimy snail sucking on his forehead, trying to make a hole in his skull and slurp up his brain. John tried to scream or defend himself, but he was powerless.BBC Sherlock: Wanting more3 years ago in Romance More Like This
He was relieved when he woke up and the surreal dream ended. However, the sucking feeling didn't go away, which almost gave him a heart attack. He jumped up in the armchair, causing Sherlock to back away.
"What the hell?" He asked in utter confusion, fixing his gaze on Sherlock's intrigued face. He moved his hand to his forehead and felt a moisture there. "What the hell, Sherlock?" He repeated with anger.
"Waking somebody up with a kiss is said to be very romantic." Sherlock stated in a scholarly tone.
John looked at him with disbelief and snorted.
"Where did you get that?"
"You need to stop reading that crap," he sighed and shook his head with resignation. Sherlock's new hobby
Must Be MadTitle: Must Be MadMust Be Mad4 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
Rough Day-- Johnlock oneshotJohn/SherlockRough Day-- Johnlock oneshot3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Warning: Angst and fluff
John Watson closed the front door of 221 Baker Street and leaned back against it, screwing his eyes closed and letting out a shaky breath. He was tired and just wanted to lay down in bed and not think for a while. His mind flashed back without warning to the bedside of the young girl who'd died today. The four-year-old had collapsed and had a seizure after an allergic reaction. She'd held on for an hour, and then lost the fight. A single tear found its way out of John's scrunched up eyes as he saw again how pale she'd looked when she was brought in to A&E with her dad, a single father, trailing behind the stretcher.
Losing a patient had always been hard for him, but losing children . That was another story entirely.
He pressed his hands to his eyes and took sever
The Last MessageSherlock JWThe Last Message3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock, could you pick up some milk? JW
Sherlock, where did you put my gun? JW
Sherlock, who made the 'smiley' face on the wall? JW
Sherlock, did you put the severed head in the fridge? JW
Sherlock, are you playing the violin at 3 a.m. just now? JW
Sherlock, there's a case happen now. Interested? JW
Sherlock, is there any problem? JW
Sherlock, are you there? JW
Sherlock, where have you been? JW
Sherlock, why are you keep silent? JW
Sherlock, am I getting insane? JW
Sherlock, I need you JW
Sherlock, I miss you JW
Sherlock, please don't do this JW
Sherlock, I'm begging here JW
Sherlock, please JW
Sherlock, why there's no reply from you? JW
Sherlock, I know you're not a fake JW
Sherlock, I only hope one miracle, that is you JW
Sherlock, I know texting to death man's phone was ridiculous but this is the only way I can contact with you JW
Sherlock BBC - Like a VirginAs John was staggering up the stairs to their shared flat on 221B Baker Street and struggling to keep his balance in a really pathetic and futile impression of a walk, he thought that spending the whole evening in "Red Lion", drinking pint after pint, maybe wasn't such a good idea.Sherlock BBC - Like a Virgin3 years ago in Romance More Like This
It was all Sherlock's fault, as usual. A few hours ago he announced fervently that he was bored out of his mind, and, since there wasn't any interesting case available, it could be fruitful to go to a pub and try spying on people. After all, drunk clientele are more prone to spill the beans and reveal some juicy secrets. At least that's what Sherlock claimed using more sophisticated vocabulary and making those puppy eyes, which you couldn't simply refuse. The truth was, John didn't really want to oppose this time, because an evening in a pub sounded fantastic. He envisioned that a bit of unwinding will be a nicer pastime than chasing criminals all around London as they normally do. So John was quite glad whe
Theme Prompt - SolitudeSherlock had always been able to do solitude well. He'd had to learn to, to cope with how others treated him. Sherlock had locked his heart away, safe from the taunts of other children. Safe from the confusion and fear in adult faces.Theme Prompt - Solitude3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When he became an adult, Sherlock hid behind the words "high-functioning sociopath". The person who was closest to him for the longest time, DI Greg Lestrade, believed that. Believed Sherlock had no heart, no emotions, so when he was rebuffed the first few times he tried to be a friend, Greg backed off. He treated Sherlock paternally businesslike because that's as far as the arrogant detective let him in. So Sherlock lived alone and believed alone was better. Until the day he met John Watson and the stalwart, ex-army doctor saved his life.
But none of these thoughts were going through Sherlock's head as the tranquilizers wore off and he woke up. The first thoughts he had, when he could focus, were the floor is cold, something was lying uncomfortably under
Sherlock BBC: UncertaintyA semi-sequel to Like a VirginSherlock BBC: Uncertainty3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Six o'clock in the morning is never the right time to wake up after a drinking session. John Watson moaned and groaned and tried to go back to sleep, but repeated thuds, rustles and beeps coming from the living room rendered his intention impossible.
He opened his eyelids slowly, but the sunlight attacked his pupils with the force of a nuclear blast causing him to put a pillow over his head with a faint hope to block out the dazzling brightness, which pierced right through his skull. He felt as if a herd of elephants was tap dancing inside his brain, his throat was bone dry and the taste inside his mouth indicated that he must have at least munched on a dead cat. He moaned heartbreakingly once again, wishing he was dead. The noises from the living room, without a doubt produced by Sherlock, certainly didn't improve his psychical and mental condition.
When he finally gathered strength to sit up, he started massaging his temples and tried to pull him
Theme Prompt - Fairy TaleSherlock looked up in the middle of his speech about thermonuclear dynamics and how it related to the current case and realized John was no longer there. The doctor had left a note on the coffee table next to Sherlock and he picked it up in annoyance.Theme Prompt - Fairy Tale3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Went to get some milk. Sarah texted me so I'm going to be going on a date with her after. Try not to shoot the walls while I'm gone.
Rolling his eyes, Sherlock jumped up from the couch and grabbed his phone out of the pocket of his coat. Honestly, when was John going to realize that the dates were useless? He already had a full life here helping with the cases.
'Helping me,' Sherlock's active brain supplied treacherously. He shook his head and typed out a quick text to Lestrade, telling him the killer was actually the man's brother. He flopped back down on the couch, boredom already setting in. Usually, John was effulgent in his praise of Sherlock's deductions and the detective could preen a little bit under that ado
Theme Prompt - TenderResting comfortably high up in the rafters, Moriarty watched as Greg Lestrade rescued John and Sherlock. He had to hold his hand over his mouth to silence the giggles that kept threatening to escape. It wouldn't do for them to discover him up here. To find out that he was the architect of their "rescue". It was so simple.Theme Prompt - Tender3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Give enough time for John's phone to die so that it could no longer be traced and he could shut down the device that kept the signal bouncing around. Then wait while Lestrade grew ever more frantic and sleep-deprived. When the DI was ready to grasp at any hope, any possible tidbit of information that came his way, call in an anonymous tip. Just the address so that the call couldn't be traced. Then just sit back and wait until the show started.
It only took about 20 minutes for Lestrade to show up. Moriarty was rather surprised and impressed that the man had come alone. Though he supposed the DI didn't want to scramble a massive team if the lead turned out to be nothin
Theme Prompt - JudgeSherlock was tied to the bed again, sitting mostly naked and staring at his haggard face in the mirror. That horrible music was playing again, some sort of elevator-music classical pieces. He studied the slices in his skin, noting they were ragged and raw as if they'd never been treated. Some were even still bleeding lazily like they'd just been made a short time ago.Theme Prompt - Judge3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The song ended and changed into one he recognized, The Four Seasons by Vivaldi. This was one of the few songs John asked him to play when the nightmares kept him from sleeping. He smiled slightly at the memory, the corners of his mouth pulling painfully. Moriarty had sliced into Sherlock's lips and he could still taste the copper tang of his own blood.
"Sherlock, love, how are we feeling?" John's voice came from the other room. Sherlock twisted his head to the doorway, hearing approaching footsteps. He groaned hopefully at John, his lips too painful to speak. But when the doctor picked up a box cutter, Sherlock felt hi
You Just Can't Without a Heart"I don't even know where to begin..." John started, pacing the room in front of Sherlock, who was sitting in his arm chair, legs pulled to his chest and his eyes trained on John. "...I mean... You left for a week! I didn't know where in bloody hell you were and I was worried sick! I though someone had you, or worse, I thought you were dead!"You Just Can't Without a Heart3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"John..." Sherlock started, his voice low and almost quiet. It was so uncharacteristically like Sherlock to be quiet.
"Stop," John cut him off, holding his hand out to stop Sherlock. "Can you just tell me where you've -been-?!"
Sherlock shook his head, looking down at the floor.
"And why -not-, Sherlock?" John asked, stopping in front of him and crossing his arms, looking at Sherlock down his nose.
"Because, John, I just.... Just can't..." Sherlock said slowly, standing and walking over to John, placing a hand on his arm and getting closer. "Can you understand."
"N-no! I c-can't!" John forced out, shoving the rapid heart rate and struggled breathin
It's Just Not Your BattleJohn sat in his arm chair, not making eye contact with the DI that sat across from him. He sat in Sher- -his- old chair. Why did he have to sit in -his- old chair?!It's Just Not Your Battle3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"John?" Lestrade asked slowly, pulling John from his ever painful thoughts that seemed to be twisting in his head.
John looked up to meet Lestrade's eyes at last. He didn't say anything, just rose an eyebrow to let him know he was listening.
"John, you can't stay up here forever... I know it hurts, losing your best friend and all, but-"
"He wasn't just my best friend..." John cut in, lowering his gaze once again to the carpet. "He was so much more than that. He was my life, what gave my life actual meaning. He pulled me from the depths of darkness no one could even reach me in. That man was everything..."
John sat there in silence for a moment and Lestrade felt like he was going to continue. His heart skipped a beat then dropped as John removed the pistol from his jacket pocket and raised it to his temple.
"He was my life,