The Soul in Deep Distress (Sherlock)
Mar. 13th, 2012 12:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morganstuartApologies for my long silence! RL became very, very busy all of a sudden. \o/
Title: The Soul in Deep Distress
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: John Watson knows who is the true soldier of Baker Street.
Historian's Note: This takes place after events depicted in the second-series Sherlock episode "The Reichenbach Fall."
Author's Note: This is a 221b ficlet (221 words, the last beginning with "b").
Acknowledgment: This is for the wonderful![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
freya_fsc, who asked if I might try another 221b story.
Warnings (Highlight to Read): Spoilers for "The Reichenbach Fall"
The therapy session proved even more useless than John had expected.
He climbed the stairs to his flat with leaden steps, like a man marching to his own execution and lacking the strength to care.
From his chair he gazed alternately inward and outward. Both views revealed a yawning chasm no act of will could possibly bridge or fill. A man might lose himself in that cold void. He could fall.
When she appeared in the doorway he started, wondering that he hadn’t heard her halting ascent. Her hip troubled her this time of day.
“I made scones.” She raised the tray like an offering. Her eyes reflected familiar grief, but the set of her lips was stubborn.
Not for the first time, he reminded himself who was the true soldier of Baker Street, who was the heroic old campaigner. He knew damn well it wasn’t Captain John Watson.
“Tea, Mrs Hudson?” He forced himself to rise and move without the tell-tale limp.
“That’s my job, dear.”
Relieving her of her burden, he said what they both knew: “No. Actually, it isn’t.”
He settled the tray on the table, pulled out a chair for her. “Please.”
Please.
Ignoring the chair, she opened her arms.
He leaned into her warmth with the trust of a child, pressing his cheek against her brow.
THE END
Vital Stats: Originally written in March 2012.
The title was inspired by the following verse:
"The soul perishes not of dark
But of cold.
The soul in deep distress
Seeks not light but warmth,
Not counsel but understanding."
-Author Unknown
Title: The Soul in Deep Distress
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: John Watson knows who is the true soldier of Baker Street.
Historian's Note: This takes place after events depicted in the second-series Sherlock episode "The Reichenbach Fall."
Author's Note: This is a 221b ficlet (221 words, the last beginning with "b").
Acknowledgment: This is for the wonderful
freya_fsc, who asked if I might try another 221b story. Warnings (Highlight to Read): Spoilers for "The Reichenbach Fall"
The therapy session proved even more useless than John had expected.
He climbed the stairs to his flat with leaden steps, like a man marching to his own execution and lacking the strength to care.
From his chair he gazed alternately inward and outward. Both views revealed a yawning chasm no act of will could possibly bridge or fill. A man might lose himself in that cold void. He could fall.
When she appeared in the doorway he started, wondering that he hadn’t heard her halting ascent. Her hip troubled her this time of day.
“I made scones.” She raised the tray like an offering. Her eyes reflected familiar grief, but the set of her lips was stubborn.
Not for the first time, he reminded himself who was the true soldier of Baker Street, who was the heroic old campaigner. He knew damn well it wasn’t Captain John Watson.
“Tea, Mrs Hudson?” He forced himself to rise and move without the tell-tale limp.
“That’s my job, dear.”
Relieving her of her burden, he said what they both knew: “No. Actually, it isn’t.”
He settled the tray on the table, pulled out a chair for her. “Please.”
Please.
Ignoring the chair, she opened her arms.
He leaned into her warmth with the trust of a child, pressing his cheek against her brow.
THE END
Vital Stats: Originally written in March 2012.
The title was inspired by the following verse:
"The soul perishes not of dark
But of cold.
The soul in deep distress
Seeks not light but warmth,
Not counsel but understanding."
-Author Unknown
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Date: 2012-03-13 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-03-13 05:09 pm (UTC)I'm going to wear this 221B today like a vest.
Welcome back!
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Date: 2012-03-14 12:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-13 05:18 pm (UTC)And so absolutely true!
Missed you! Hope everything's ok...
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Date: 2012-03-14 12:18 am (UTC)All's well, just ridiculously busy at the moment. I do see the light at the end of the tunnel, though.
Thanks again for your kind and supportive words!
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Date: 2012-03-14 12:31 am (UTC)There's nothing like the warmth of an understanding friend, my friend.
Isn't that the truth! *hugs you* I'm grateful for you, my dear.
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Date: 2012-03-13 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-03-13 07:21 pm (UTC)Lovely.
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Date: 2012-03-13 07:41 pm (UTC)Thank you.
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Date: 2012-03-14 12:34 am (UTC)She claims all the time that she is not the housekeeper. Well, no, she isn't. She does way more than that. She takes care of the boys, and she protects them not by fighting but tea and scones.
I was reading another story about Mr. Hudson welcomed John home. Although in the end of The Fall he said that he couldn't go back to the flat at the moment, I would like to think that he eventually did. It's heartwarming to just think about the two of them comforting each other.
Sherlock, next Christmas, you should wear the antlers just to make her happy...
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Date: 2012-03-14 02:13 pm (UTC)You've put your finger on why I love Mrs Hudson so much. And I agree: John has to return to Baker Street sometime, and I love the idea of the two of them drawing strength from each other.
LOL, now I am picturing Sherlock in the antlers... :D
Thanks again for your kind words, my friend - and for your encouragement about writing another 221b story.
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Date: 2012-03-14 12:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-14 02:15 pm (UTC)Thanks so much for reading.
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Date: 2012-03-14 11:34 am (UTC)Seriously, this was short, painful, lovely, and quite heart-warming in all senses of the word. The verse you use at the end to illustrate the story really underline the emotional core of the story, those two lonely souls who seek warmth and (thankfully) draw it form each other. Grief does feel cold, doesn't it? It leaves you shivering and feeling like you're standing on an empty, lonely plain, and it's raining, and the others seem very far away. Thank goodness for Mrs Hudson, tea, and the giving of comfort when you're in need of it :o)
P.S.: I find this poem as intriguing as profound. Where did you come across it?
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Date: 2012-03-14 02:37 pm (UTC)At any rate, I'm delighted by your kind words about my minimalistic approach, and I'm thrilled that my portrayal of emotional sequences feels authentic to you. It means a great deal to me, and I'm most grateful to you for this feedback.
I'm so tickled that this worked for you and seemed properly moving.
Grief does feel cold, doesn't it? It leaves you shivering and feeling like you're standing on an empty, lonely plain, and it's raining, and the others seem very far away. Thank goodness for Mrs Hudson, tea, and the giving of comfort when you're in need of it :o)
Yes! Oh, well said, indeed.
As for the poem, I found it in an old hard-copy Star Trek fanzine years ago (Tantalus, and the story was "Not Light But Warmth" by Mary Rottler and Lynn Syck), and I jotted it down in order to remember it. I, too, find it to be intriguing and profound. It was attributed to "Author Unknown" in the 'zine, and I haven't found the quote online (except in a fanfic context) in previous searches. I wish I knew more about it!
Thanks again for your lovely comments. I appreciate them very much!
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Date: 2012-03-16 06:06 am (UTC)I finally finished watching "The Reichenbach Fall" this morning because I'm going to be on a Sherlock panel at REVELcon--I don't know when the panel is but the con begins tomorrow and I actually left to drive here this afternoon!
It wasn't until I was casually glancing through my flist and saw this story that I suddenly realized This means I can read Morgan Stuart's fic again!!!! I'd been avoiding all Season 2 fic until I finished watching all three episodes. Getting a complete copy of the third ep had been such a carnival of errors (on my part) that I had forgotten all the loveliness that would result from getting done!!! *happy dance*
This line: He could fall. was such an excellent reminder of the episode, and the metaphorical and literals way in which it used the idea of falling.
And then the wonderfulness of the character-revealing details! Mrs. Hudson's hip, for examples, and her stubbornness in offering
comfort whether John admits to needing it or notthe scones. And this line: Ignoring the chair, she opened her arms. just made me wibble uncontrollably.For a moment, I was afraid John would turn her down, but it's a victory to Mrs. Hudson that he doesn't, and an entirely plausible one for her to win.
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Date: 2012-03-21 03:40 pm (UTC)(Wasn't that episode incredible? I think I forgot to breathe several times.)
Your encouraging words have put a huge grin on my face. I'm really tickled that the "He could fall" worked properly as an allusion to the episode, and I'm delighted that you liked Mrs Hudson in all of her stubbornness. I'm so pleased that you think it's plausible she'd win this round, and John would accept her comfort.
Thank you, my friend. You're the best! And welcome back from convention-land! :D
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Date: 2012-03-21 03:29 pm (UTC)