Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

fic: In Transition (part 6 of 7)

Title: In Transition (part 6 of 7)
Author: fengirl88
Rating: NC-17, eventually
Fandom: Sherlock
Pairing: Sherlock/John not-very-established relationship, Sherlock/Lestrade complications, Sherlock/John slash, finally
Warnings: sexual content, some drug references, and Lestrade still swears rather a lot.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.  Just playing with them.  Again. 
Spoilers: Bits of A Study in Pink.
Wordcount: 2180 for this chapter.

Summary: John has never been so happy.  Sherlock has never been so confused.  Sex has never been so awkward.

thanks again to ginbitch for amazing beta work on this story throughout.

Chapter 5: John
Ghost of a Chance


Chapter 5: John


Ghost Of A Chance



He wakes up feeling as if he's been in a fight. His throat is sore – he remembers being sick, then scrubbing his teeth and gargling with the stinging mouthwash again and again. He aches all over – must have been tensing in his sleep, nightmares probably. There's a heaviness, too, a sense of something weighing him down.


John opens his eyes and discovers that the heaviness is literally true. Sherlock's sitting on the bed and it's his weight John can feel. He's holding a mug of something steaming which is almost certainly going to be a health hazard.


I made you some tea,” Sherlock says. Sounding very tentative, for him.


John takes the mug and puts it on the chest of drawers by the bed. If Sherlock thinks a mug of tea is going to change anything he's got another think coming. Even if it is quite possibly the first time in Sherlock's life that he's ever made anyone else tea. Or himself. Another good reason not to drink it, God knows what it'll taste like...


Surprisingly like tea, actually. Maybe Mrs Hudson made it.


Thank you,” John says. Because he was properly brought up, after all.


There's a long silence.


Sherlock hasn't shaved and appears to be wearing yesterday's clothes. Looks as if he's slept in them, or maybe he's just been rolling around in bed a lot. John's not sure why that image comes to mind, and dismisses it as unhelpful. Sherlock looks miserable and scared as well as uncharacteristically scruffy. And seeing him like that makes John's heart contract.


But it's no good getting sentimental about this. Facts to be faced here, and he's got to face them even if Sherlock won't.


Sherlock, I don't know if I can do this any more,” he says. “I can't be with someone I know I can't trust.”


Clara's voice echoes in his head: The one thing we know for sure about addicts is that they lie.


The lying's started already. And Sherlock would clearly have gone on lying about where he'd been these last few nights if John hadn't rung the mortuary and found him out.


John wonders unhappily whether Sherlock meant to show him those bruises. He remembers how Harry used to flaunt the damage she was doing to herself. Flaunted her infidelities to Clara, too.


Sherlock still hasn't said how he got them, but it's not hard to guess.


Images of rough sex scroll like a bad porn film behind John's eyes. That, or some violent drug-fuelled argument. It almost doesn't matter which it was.


Almost, but not quite.


The silence goes on hanging in the room. Another heavy thing.


They never said they'd be monogamous.


Never said they wouldn't, either.


Didn't talk about it at all. Should have, but how do you start? Especially with Sherlock, whose capacity for emotional engagement is practically nil.


Are you going to tell me what happened?” John asks.


Sherlock looks even more scared than before. Is obviously wrestling with the temptation to deny the whole thing, or possibly just scrabbling around for a plausible explanation. Eventually he says “I had a sort of fight with Lestrade.”


Lestrade,” John says. Might have known it. His scalp crawls and his skin feels tight, rage pushing up from somewhere deep inside him so he can hardly breathe.


It was my fault,” Sherlock says.


That has to be a first. It's so unexpected that John doesn't quite know what to say next. Settles for “What were you fighting about?”


I -” Sherlock swallows hard and tries again. “I wanted him to do something he didn't want to do.”


Now John's completely confused, because there's no way that can mean what it seems to mean. He's seen the way Lestrade looks at Sherlock as well as the way Sherlock looks at Lestrade, and he can't imagine Lestrade saying no to sex with Sherlock.


But apparently that is what this is about.


Because Sherlock is now mumbling something barely audible and verging on incoherent about their relationship that makes John go hot and cold all over. Saying he wants sex all the time now and John never seems interested and he's been going crazy and he thought maybe being with Lestrade would help and Lestrade turned him down and told him to fuck off back to Baker Street and try to grow up for Christ's sake.


At least that's what John thinks he said.


All the air seems to have gone out of John's body, as if someone's just punched him in the gut. There's a ringing in his ears and he thinks he might be about to pass out. He leans forward, putting his knees up so he can rest his head on them.


Feels a hand placed, very tentatively, on the back of his neck.


Get off,” he mutters fiercely.


The hand goes away again.


I knew you'd be cross,” Sherlock says, aggrieved. “Didn't want to tell you. He said I'd got to.”


Lestrade did?”


Said I wasn't doing right by you.”


Great. So now John's supposed to be grateful to Lestrade? Just when you think things can't get any worse, they do.


You told Lestrade about -” He can't even finish that sentence. “Jesus, Sherlock, do you have no fucking sense of boundaries at all?”


Stupid question, John. You know very well he hasn't.


And isn't that going to be fun next time they meet at a crime scene? Lestrade knowing Sherlock and John have a rubbish sex life and it's all John's fault. Perfect.


Sherlock starts rocking to and fro, arms crossed, hands gripping his shoulders. Last time John saw anyone do this was some poor kid in an orphanage. Classic institutionalized behaviour. Self-soothing, they call it. Not good seeing a grown man doing that. Especially this one. And making that noise.


Stop it, Sherlock.”


You're going to leave me.” Sherlock goes on rocking. “I know you are, and I can't, it's no good if you're not here -”


Doesn't sound as if it's much good when I am,” John says sharply.


Sherlock gets up off the bed abruptly and starts banging his head against the wall, hard.


John lunges out of bed and grabs him by the hair, pulling him back. “Sherlock! Stop that NOW. You do NOT do that to yourself.”


Sherlock is struggling, but suddenly goes floppy, like an oversized rag doll, lurching against John and knocking him back on to the bed where they land in a muddled sort of heap.


John remembers rather belatedly that he doesn't have any clothes on. Forgot that, jumping out of bed after Sherlock.


Promise me you won't do that again,” he says, with as much authority as he can muster in the circumstances.


I promise,” Sherlock says. The kiss that follows is desperate, Sherlock pressing the whole length of his body against John's, pushing him down hard into the mattress.


John struggles and pushes Sherlock away, panting.


Sherlock, I need to go to work. And then I need to think. Go away. I'll see you tonight. We'll talk. I promise. But you have to go now and let me do the things I've got to do.”


Sherlock still looks scared and miserable, but he doesn't argue or try to stop John.


I might be late back,” John warns him. “Not sure how long all this is going to take. But you will be here, right? No running off doing something stupid and dangerous. Are we clear?”


Sherlock nods unhappily. Then in case this isn't good enough he says “I'll be here.”


OK,” John says. “I'll see you later.”




The last patient of the day has gone, and John sits at his desk thinking.


He knows not all addictions are to substances. Including Sherlock's. Sherlock's voice in his head says And I said dangerous, and here you are. They have that much in common, even if they choose different ways of expressing it. Sherlock isn't the only addict at 221b.


He knows that if they're going to go on living together he's going to have to make some changes of his own. But he doesn't know how to handle the next bit.


He wishes there was someone he could talk to about this. Realizes that for all his big talk about lots of gay friends when he was at Bart's, the number of gay people he knows well now is pitifully small. And most of them aren't going to be much use.


Clara can't help seeing everything in terms of how it was with her and Harry. He's pretty sure she'd just tell him to get the fuck out of there while he still can. He knows that's what she'd like to say anyway, and the only reason she hasn't said it yet is that he hasn't given her the opportunity.


But he doesn't want to leave Sherlock. Or at least he's not sure if that's what he wants. So he can't talk to Clara about this. Not yet, anyway.


And he's certainly bloody well not going to talk to Lestrade. Even if Lestrade has apparently behaved a lot better about all this than John would have expected him to.


Never talks to Harry at all about anything, so that's a non-starter, even if the problem wasn't to do with sex.


Eventually it occurs to him that there is one person he hasn't thought of that he could try. One person who probably knows a fair bit about this sort of thing and who probably wouldn't mind John bending his ear. Who owes him a favour, sort of.


He can't quite believe he's going to do this, but apparently he is.


For some reason he remembers that night that feels like a million years ago, the night when it all started, and himself asking Lestrade why he put up with Sherlock. And Lestrade saying “Because I'm desperate, that's why.”


Sherlock seems to have a habit of making people desperate.




Maurice answers the phone, sounding a bit distracted. There's some sort of kerfuffle going on in the background. Maurice is saying to whoever it is “It's John Watson, I told you about him. Clara's brother-in-law, you know Clara. Sherlock Holmes's partner.”


John winces at that, but the magic word partner seems to have stopped whatever the kerfuffle was.


Sorry, John,” Maurice says. “What can I do for you?”


You know you said to get in touch any time if I needed some free advice,” John says.


Yes, sure,” Maurice says. “If it's business -”


It isn't,” John says, thinking I have officially gone mad now and it's all Sherlock's fault. “But I need help and I don't know who else to ask.”


It must show in his voice, how desperate he is, because Maurice doesn't ask questions or suggest John makes an appointment with his PA.


No problem,” he says. “Come round now, if you're free. You know where I live.”


John sends Sherlock a quick text saying he'll be back around 8, and hails a taxi.



The source of the kerfuffle turns out to be a very pretty and very jealous skinny young man called Carl. He's glowering like anything when John walks in but calms down when he gets a closer look at him. John thinks he might find this vaguely insulting if he didn't have better things to think about.


Turns out Carl was convinced it was Lestrade on the other end of the phone. Maurice has obviously made the mistake of telling Carl about Lestrade.


Which of course is not the right way to think about it. At least Maurice is honest, John thinks. Not like some people he could mention.


Bloody Lestrade gets everywhere.


He doesn't know what it is that Lestrade's got, but if anyone ever works out how to bottle it they could make an absolute fortune.


Have to come up with a better brand name than Fucking Copper though.


Despite the fact that John is manifestly not Lestrade, Carl keeps huffing and fretting in and out of the sitting-room every five minutes until Maurice says will John please excuse them both for a bit and leaves John with a book. The book is quite useful, particularly the illustrations, but John wishes he'd brought his headphones, because he's fairly sure that Maurice has taken Carl off to the bedroom and these things are not so much fun for the non-participating audience. He puts a CD on the sound system and hopes for the best.


Maurice returns after a bit looking rather pink and embarrassed and apologetic. Whatever it was seems to have done the trick, because there are no more interruptions.


OK,” Maurice says, “fire away. I can't promise I'll know all the answers, but you can ask me anything you want.”

Next:  It's just before 8 when John gets back to 221b )


Previous: ...his luck really isn't in tonight )




( 12 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 2nd, 2010 10:35 pm (UTC)

Aww, poor Sherlock, and poor John!* I just want them to end up alright. *hopes*

*imagines John sharing his perusal of the illustrations with Sherlock*

*Heck, poor Lestrade too. I love them all.
Oct. 2nd, 2010 10:40 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! I like your imagining of J and S looking at the illustrations...

I love them all as well. glad you do too.
(Deleted comment)
Oct. 2nd, 2010 10:39 pm (UTC)
thank you so much! *blushes*
Lestrade will be all right - but this is Sherlock and John's fic really, not his.
*hugs you back*
we all want some of what Lestrade's got, I think...
(Deleted comment)
Oct. 3rd, 2010 10:09 am (UTC)
thank you for this too! *hugs you back*
this fic needs a happy ending for S and J, to the extent that that is possible. with S the way he is there will always be some limitations, I think...
Oct. 3rd, 2010 12:23 am (UTC)
Looks at 6 of 7 parts. One chapter to make it all come out happy.. I hope. You'd think John being a doctor would know theoretically how to put prong J into hole S and/or the reverse. And how to do it in a manner that would not cause too much harm, I mean, what do they teach in those all boys schools anyway

Am enjoying and agonizing over the characters.
Oct. 3rd, 2010 12:31 am (UTC)
*giggling at your anatomical comment*
not sure J went to that sort of school though S probably did (though I still wonder if any school could have coped with him and whether he wasn't perhaps tutored at home).

it's actually going to be one more chapter plus an epilogue, but the epilogue didn't seem to need a part by itself.

glad you are enjoying it - thanks for commenting!

Oct. 3rd, 2010 06:57 am (UTC)
Oh, oh, I hope this is going to turn out OK, with happy sexy times... Poor John, he really doesn't know what to do, and Sherlock is completely out of his mind!
Oct. 3rd, 2010 10:10 am (UTC)
happy sexy times would indeed be the best outcome available. final part coming soon...

thank you very much for commenting!
Oct. 3rd, 2010 07:33 am (UTC)
He doesn't know what it is that Lestrade's got, but if anyone ever works out how to bottle it they could make an absolute fortune. Yes they could!

Another excellent chapter :) I don't want it to end...
Oct. 3rd, 2010 10:12 am (UTC)
oh thank you! that's a lovely comment. ♥
am a bit sad myself when letting go of the longer fics - you probably know the feeling! but the final part will be coming soon.
(Deleted comment)
Oct. 3rd, 2010 06:48 pm (UTC)
look forward to seeing your embroidery! oh my goodness your comments continue to be amazing. ♥ thank you so much!
*hugs you*
(Deleted comment)
Mar. 13th, 2011 09:01 pm (UTC)
thank you very much! *grins*
( 12 comments — Leave a comment )


scallop voices


Powered by LiveJournal.com