Baby Please Don't Go - Part 3c
anonymous
March 28 2011, 13:34:39 UTC
John’s eyes snapped up, and he stared at Sherlock, a mixture of shame and anger and hurt on his face.
“I have to, Sherlock. I just do.”
“But why?” asked Sherlock, wincing at just how pleading it sounded.
John sighed again, the anger draining from his body until he just looked sad. He dropped his head into his hands.
“I can’t just...I need something else in my life? Here, this...us...it’s too much sometimes, y’know? I feel like I could spend the rest of my life just...waiting. Waiting for...” John looked up, straight into Sherlock’s eyes, as if trying to communicate some unspeakable truth.
“For what?” Sherlock was feeling impatient now. Damn John and his inability to finish a sentence.
“If I have to explain it to you, it clearly doesn’t matter that much,” John snapped. “I just have to do something on my own, do you get it?
“No, I don’t. I don’t get any of it. You said you were leaving, that you had this great opportunity, and I was happy for you, but nothing makes sense now, and you’re talking like this is something being
( ... )
Re: Baby Please Don't Go - OP HERE!
anonymous
March 28 2011, 15:51:04 UTC
No I LOVE the angst! We neeeed the angst first before the happily ever after. I'm really glad you are making it serious and not at all cracky. Gah! This is so good! Poor John limping again. Come on, Sherlock, figure it out!
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 4a
anonymous
March 30 2011, 09:41:11 UTC
When he finally slept, Sherlock’s dreams were strange and restive.
Disjointed images of John, usually doing perfectly ordinary things, laughing, reading, eating, just being, each flowing into the next. Sherlock knew John could see him; he would often look up from whatever he was doing and smile at Sherlock, before carrying on as before. But every time Sherlock tried to reach out and touch him, John would slide further and further away, until Sherlock was running, racing flat out just to keep John in his sights.
Then, suddenly, John was standing in front of him, much too close, so close that Sherlock could see the tiny freckles dusting his nose and the brown flecks in his eyes. John pressed his lips to Sherlock’s forehead, and he was whispering something to him, but no matter how hard he strained his ears, Sherlock couldn’t make out the words. And then John was gone, and Sherlock was sitting in the kitchen at Baker Street, having tea with Mycroft (Mycroft, for heaven’s sake!), who was telling him calmly that there had been a mistake
( ... )
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 4b
anonymous
March 30 2011, 10:39:01 UTC
Sherlock,
I’m sorry about last night. I was tired and angry. You know I didn’t mean what I said, right? The bit about you being an idiot. You’re pretty obviously not an idiot. Well, except about this. And before you accuse me of being cryptic and obtuse, don’t worry, I’m going to spell it out for you this time.
It has somehow failed to come to your attention (and you have a lot of attention, Sherlock, you see everything. How did you miss this?) that I have, for quite some time now, been rather incurably in love with you. No doubt this will shock and quite possibly horrify you, but there it is. I’m in love with you
( ... )
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 4c
anonymous
March 30 2011, 10:40:21 UTC
However, he was also Sherlock Holmes, and he was not comfortable with epiphanies unless they were the result of a series of observations and logical deuctions.
Very carefully, he picked up the letter and went into the living room. He place it on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, elbows resting on his knees, fingers steepled underneath his chin. He was going to think about this.
That John was in love with him, he accepted. It appeared to be consistent with Sherlock’s observations, albeit only retrospectively, and it gave a satisfactory explanation for all the things that had been puzzling Sherlock for weeks now. It did seem rather strange to him that John, who was brave and kind and good would be in love with someone like him, but he was forced to acknowledge that the conclusion fit all the facts. The next question was not quite so straightforward
( ... )
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 4d
anonymous
March 30 2011, 10:41:14 UTC
Sherlock raced out of the kitchen and dove for the sofa, searching desperately for his phone. It’d be okay, he assured himself. He’d just call John and tell him not to get on the plane, that it was an emergency. John always understood when something was important. And then he’d go and find John and tell him that
( ... )
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“I have to, Sherlock. I just do.”
“But why?” asked Sherlock, wincing at just how pleading it sounded.
John sighed again, the anger draining from his body until he just looked sad. He dropped his head into his hands.
“I can’t just...I need something else in my life? Here, this...us...it’s too much sometimes, y’know? I feel like I could spend the rest of my life just...waiting. Waiting for...” John looked up, straight into Sherlock’s eyes, as if trying to communicate some unspeakable truth.
“For what?” Sherlock was feeling impatient now. Damn John and his inability to finish a sentence.
“If I have to explain it to you, it clearly doesn’t matter that much,” John snapped. “I just have to do something on my own, do you get it?
“No, I don’t. I don’t get any of it. You said you were leaving, that you had this great opportunity, and I was happy for you, but nothing makes sense now, and you’re talking like this is something being ( ... )
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I am very much looking forward to Sherlock's realisation :D
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I love this!
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Disjointed images of John, usually doing perfectly ordinary things, laughing, reading, eating, just being, each flowing into the next. Sherlock knew John could see him; he would often look up from whatever he was doing and smile at Sherlock, before carrying on as before. But every time Sherlock tried to reach out and touch him, John would slide further and further away, until Sherlock was running, racing flat out just to keep John in his sights.
Then, suddenly, John was standing in front of him, much too close, so close that Sherlock could see the tiny freckles dusting his nose and the brown flecks in his eyes. John pressed his lips to Sherlock’s forehead, and he was whispering something to him, but no matter how hard he strained his ears, Sherlock couldn’t make out the words. And then John was gone, and Sherlock was sitting in the kitchen at Baker Street, having tea with Mycroft (Mycroft, for heaven’s sake!), who was telling him calmly that there had been a mistake ( ... )
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I’m sorry about last night. I was tired and angry. You know I didn’t mean what I said, right? The bit about you being an idiot. You’re pretty obviously not an idiot. Well, except about this. And before you accuse me of being cryptic and obtuse, don’t worry, I’m going to spell it out for you this time.
It has somehow failed to come to your attention (and you have a lot of attention, Sherlock, you see everything. How did you miss this?) that I have, for quite some time now, been rather incurably in love with you. No doubt this will shock and quite possibly horrify you, but there it is. I’m in love with you ( ... )
Reply
Very carefully, he picked up the letter and went into the living room. He place it on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa, elbows resting on his knees, fingers steepled underneath his chin. He was going to think about this.
That John was in love with him, he accepted. It appeared to be consistent with Sherlock’s observations, albeit only retrospectively, and it gave a satisfactory explanation for all the things that had been puzzling Sherlock for weeks now. It did seem rather strange to him that John, who was brave and kind and good would be in love with someone like him, but he was forced to acknowledge that the conclusion fit all the facts. The next question was not quite so straightforward ( ... )
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This remains AMAZING!
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