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Sherlock: The Fabric Life / A Beginner's Guide to Apiology. / The Infiltrate Series
morethansky wrote in amphhh
The Fabric of Life by orphan_account [Sherlock/John]

“You shouldn't go away,” Sherlock's quiet response came, and it was like an anchor dropping into John's stomach, and oh, how he wanted to take Sherlock's face in his hands and look at him and say I never will again, never, I will never, ever leave this flat without you, if you stay here forever then so will I but reality caught up with him, a rush of salty realness over the sweetness of fantasy. He was done with making promises about forever he couldn't ever be sure he would keep – and Sherlock was not the audience for that, anyway, as non-romantic, as sober as he was. It would only feel like a lie.

“Sometimes I will,” he therefore said. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going. I should have. But you know I sometimes need a little time to get a grip on things.” Sherlock let out a small huff of agreement against his shirt; yes, you can be worryingly slow sometimes. “Getting out of here is something that works for me sometimes. It doesn't mean I'm... not coming back. I'm never leaving, okay? I've always come back, haven't I?”

Sherlock offered no real response but the tightening of his fingers in John's shirt. Maybe he was thinking about how long it had taken him to come back.

“But when I do go away for a bit and you're not sure what it means, you can – just ask me,” John continued. He waited for a bit, not sure how Sherlock would respond to the suggestion of him asking John anything at all that wasn't just a disguised attempt at showing off.

“Yes,” Sherlock mumbled, “yes.”

A Beginner's Guide to Apiology. by VictoryCandescence [Sherlock/John]
John and Sherlock meet for the first time as old men in Sussex.

Sherlock held him near with a strength that seemed incongruous for his thin frame. His hands trembled ever so slightly, one in the middle of John’s back, the other laid against his scar, fingers brushing over the old gnarled crater through the thin cotton of his borrowed shirt as if Sherlock was reading the shape of it like Braille.

“How have I spent my whole life without knowing this?” Sherlock whispered into the wispy grey strands of John’s hair. His tone was at once marvelous and sad.

John had no words for him, though even if he did, he didn’t trust his voice to work. So he just held Sherlock tighter and hoped it was answer enough.

The Infiltrate Series by SkipandDi & MirrorSkippy [Sherlock/John]
This is a moment Sherlock will look back to time and again as the future stalks forward; an instance he will use to justify his actions, the decisions he will make. He'd known Moriarty was working solely for his attention, even John had recognized as much during the first assault. But Sherlock has been a fool, a dangerous, incompetent fool, because this is so far beyond all that. It always has been.

Sherlock yells like something in him has snapped. “I was going to detonate the bomb, you complete and utter imbecile.”

It’s as if the entire room freezes, the very building holding its collective breath. John blinks, tries to process what it is Sherlock just said -- surely he didn’t -- “I’m sorry?”

Sherlock, however, is beyond answering, quietly seething in that way of his. John’s sure if he knew the tips of his ears got red he wouldn’t do it anymore, and so neglects to tell him.

He reaches out, touches Sherlock’s arm, doesn’t get offended when he tenses. “Sherlock, you were going to kill yourself for me?”

“That suggests you would have somehow survived the explosion. No, I was going to kill all of us at once, because...” He looks utterly lost, and strangely betrayed. “The alternative was unacceptable.” His expression makes it clear he doesn’t find this to be a satisfactory explanation.