Secure Yourself (Sherlock)
Aug. 27th, 2011 04:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morganstuartTitle: Secure Yourself
Author: Morgan Stuart
Fandom: Sherlock
Disclaimer: This universe does not belong to me; I'm just an appreciative visitor. I make no profit from this fan work.
Description: Comfort isn't Sherlock's area, is it?
Author's Note: Hahaha! Remember when I said I was done with 221b fics? I lied! This is a 221b ficlet: 221 words, with the last word beginning with a "b."
Warnings (Highlight to Read): Non-explicit but disturbing description of injuries
"Just talk to him, Sherlock." Forced calm flattens John's words into a monotone. He doesn't look up from where his hands work steadily in a crimson mess of shredded cloth and flesh.
Folded on his knees, Sherlock leans in, studying Lestrade like an anomalous clue. "What should I say?"
Lestrade chuckles once, then arches against the agony that follows, blinking back involuntary tears. The movement makes John hiss, and Lestrade tries, truly he does, to hold still.
"Doesn'tmatter." Lestrade grinds the words out between gritted teeth. If he unclenches his jaw, he'll scream. "Say... everything'llbe... fine."
His palms scrub along the pavement, seeking some way to brace himself against fire in his side and ice everywhere else.
"I'm not entirely certain it will."
Behind them, Sally summons an ambulance, her voice staccato-precise with throttled fear.
"S'posedtolie... Idiot." Fondly.
John presses harder. Lestrade claws at the concrete.
After a heartbeat, Sherlock captures one of Lestrade's wayward hands between his own, and glances toward John, as if for affirmation.
"No," Lestrade groans. "Breakyourfingers."
Sherlock blinks, frowns, then guides the hand to a bony Holmesian ankle, encouraging clammy fingers to curl around the solid joint.
"As tightly as needed," Sherlock murmurs.
Lestrade nods his thanks. Swallows. Closes wet eyes.
He squeezes hard enough to bruise.
THE END
Vital Stats: The title alludes to the lyrics "Secure yourself to heaven/hold on tight the night has come" from "Secure Yourself" by the Indigo Girls.
Originally written in August 2011.
Originally written to fill this prompt.
Author: Morgan Stuart
Fandom: Sherlock
Disclaimer: This universe does not belong to me; I'm just an appreciative visitor. I make no profit from this fan work.
Description: Comfort isn't Sherlock's area, is it?
Author's Note: Hahaha! Remember when I said I was done with 221b fics? I lied! This is a 221b ficlet: 221 words, with the last word beginning with a "b."
Warnings (Highlight to Read): Non-explicit but disturbing description of injuries
"Just talk to him, Sherlock." Forced calm flattens John's words into a monotone. He doesn't look up from where his hands work steadily in a crimson mess of shredded cloth and flesh.
Folded on his knees, Sherlock leans in, studying Lestrade like an anomalous clue. "What should I say?"
Lestrade chuckles once, then arches against the agony that follows, blinking back involuntary tears. The movement makes John hiss, and Lestrade tries, truly he does, to hold still.
"Doesn'tmatter." Lestrade grinds the words out between gritted teeth. If he unclenches his jaw, he'll scream. "Say... everything'llbe... fine."
His palms scrub along the pavement, seeking some way to brace himself against fire in his side and ice everywhere else.
"I'm not entirely certain it will."
Behind them, Sally summons an ambulance, her voice staccato-precise with throttled fear.
"S'posedtolie... Idiot." Fondly.
John presses harder. Lestrade claws at the concrete.
After a heartbeat, Sherlock captures one of Lestrade's wayward hands between his own, and glances toward John, as if for affirmation.
"No," Lestrade groans. "Breakyourfingers."
Sherlock blinks, frowns, then guides the hand to a bony Holmesian ankle, encouraging clammy fingers to curl around the solid joint.
"As tightly as needed," Sherlock murmurs.
Lestrade nods his thanks. Swallows. Closes wet eyes.
He squeezes hard enough to bruise.
THE END
Vital Stats: The title alludes to the lyrics "Secure yourself to heaven/hold on tight the night has come" from "Secure Yourself" by the Indigo Girls.
Originally written in August 2011.
Originally written to fill this prompt.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-29 01:30 am (UTC)This means a lot to me. Thank you. I think the fact I've been coming back to this exercise repeatedly the last couple of weeks is that it's such a challenge for me to rein myself in, and it helps a great deal to know the feeling isn't completely lost despite the brevity of the piece.
I'm so pleased to know their voices seemed right to you. I loved how you put it, that Sherlock's "still not part of the caring/comfort lark but learning with every day," because that was exactly my goal for this: to show another "baby step" on his way toward learning. I like to think Lestrade knows him well enough to appreciate his awkward gesture for what it truly is.
And as so often, I just want to hug the boys after reading on of your fics, there is so much vivid, heartfelt emotion in there that doesn't want to leave the reader alone...
Augh, this is so lovely of you to say. It just thrills my heart.
Your feedback is always so supportive as well as helpful; I can't thank you enough for reading and commenting. I appreciate your kindness!