Blizzard
Title: Blizzard
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Watson
Summary: Watson can fight armed men, hunger and thirst - but he cannot fight the coldness. (July Prompt 24)
WordCount: 358
Prompt: July 24 ~~~ Pick one of the four seasons and write about a storm during that season. Spring shower, summer hurricane, autumn wind, winter blizzard, or whatever strikes your fancy. Must be Watson-centric H/C or angst; what form that takes is up to you.
Author's Note: Nothing fancy, as I do not have more time to write something else. I was gone the whole day and now I am totally tired. ._. And there is not much angst here, 'cause I can not really write angst. It's just a little installment to illustrate what happened to poor Watson in the attic after he was kidnapped and I placed this part after Dying Soul.
And thank you for so many comments for the last part, I was quite surprised to see so many! :) Going to respond as soon as possible...
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The wind howls and the window rattles loudly. Watson looks up in apprehension and snuggles deeper into the corner furthest of the single window of the attic.
A terrible blizzard rages outside and the house groans. The temperature is freezing up here and Watson’s body is already numb.
He built a little fortress with boxes and chests to ward the cold breezes. He snatched all blankets and clothing he was able to find and huddles beneath a mound of cloth.
The attic is completely dark, only the white masses outside are visible through the frosted glass. Besides the wind howling outside there are no other sounds.
Even though Watson is pretty sure that he is still in London it feels like he is back in the vast deserts of Afghanistan, completely alone and vulnerable with no protection against the elements and with no hint of mankind in sight.
Watson feels the coldness seep into his bones and his own breath is no longer visible in the air.
All this time he thought that he just had to hold on and wait for Holmes to find him. Watson was capable of fighting several armed men and he could withstand hunger and thirst as long as possible until help arrived.
But he could not fight this deadly coldness.
For the first time since his kidnapping Watson is truly afraid of dying. One single night in this weather can already kill you - Watson had seen several homeless people who had suffered this fate.
He shudders as he thinks of his own corpse, blue and frozen curled beneath musty blankets and how Holmes would pale if he found his body like this.
Holmes…
Watson gasps faintly and starts to tremble. He knows his Holmes… Holmes would be able to deduce that Watson may be exposed to the coldness of the winter blizzard.
Then there would be only one thing that Holmes would do - search for him. Personally search for him if need be; running through the streets and looking for him.
With fear and desperation Watson turns his eyes to the window looking out into the snowstorm.
Please, Holmes…. Please be safe.
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Watson
Summary: Watson can fight armed men, hunger and thirst - but he cannot fight the coldness. (July Prompt 24)
WordCount: 358
Prompt: July 24 ~~~ Pick one of the four seasons and write about a storm during that season. Spring shower, summer hurricane, autumn wind, winter blizzard, or whatever strikes your fancy. Must be Watson-centric H/C or angst; what form that takes is up to you.
Author's Note: Nothing fancy, as I do not have more time to write something else. I was gone the whole day and now I am totally tired. ._. And there is not much angst here, 'cause I can not really write angst. It's just a little installment to illustrate what happened to poor Watson in the attic after he was kidnapped and I placed this part after Dying Soul.
And thank you for so many comments for the last part, I was quite surprised to see so many! :) Going to respond as soon as possible...
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The wind howls and the window rattles loudly. Watson looks up in apprehension and snuggles deeper into the corner furthest of the single window of the attic.
A terrible blizzard rages outside and the house groans. The temperature is freezing up here and Watson’s body is already numb.
He built a little fortress with boxes and chests to ward the cold breezes. He snatched all blankets and clothing he was able to find and huddles beneath a mound of cloth.
The attic is completely dark, only the white masses outside are visible through the frosted glass. Besides the wind howling outside there are no other sounds.
Even though Watson is pretty sure that he is still in London it feels like he is back in the vast deserts of Afghanistan, completely alone and vulnerable with no protection against the elements and with no hint of mankind in sight.
Watson feels the coldness seep into his bones and his own breath is no longer visible in the air.
All this time he thought that he just had to hold on and wait for Holmes to find him. Watson was capable of fighting several armed men and he could withstand hunger and thirst as long as possible until help arrived.
But he could not fight this deadly coldness.
For the first time since his kidnapping Watson is truly afraid of dying. One single night in this weather can already kill you - Watson had seen several homeless people who had suffered this fate.
He shudders as he thinks of his own corpse, blue and frozen curled beneath musty blankets and how Holmes would pale if he found his body like this.
Holmes…
Watson gasps faintly and starts to tremble. He knows his Holmes… Holmes would be able to deduce that Watson may be exposed to the coldness of the winter blizzard.
Then there would be only one thing that Holmes would do - search for him. Personally search for him if need be; running through the streets and looking for him.
With fear and desperation Watson turns his eyes to the window looking out into the snowstorm.
Please, Holmes…. Please be safe.