sherlock: johnlock


The best of The Abominable Bride pick-up lines, based on number of notes.

I just realized I never did a photoset for this episode! #FlashbackFriday?

john: *keeps phone number*


Damage, Chapter 5
finnagain, lifeonmars
Damage, Chapter 5

Podfic of Damage, by lifeonmars, Chapter 5 of 10
Written by @marsdaydream​ and read by finnagain
Fandom: BBC Sherlock, Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Rating: Mature
Genre: Post series 3, Slow Build, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending
Additional tags: ACD References, Complicated Relationships, Minor Character Death, Grief/Morning, ANGST

Chapter summary: John reaches his limit with Holmes brothers when Sherlock’s investigation into Mary’s death takes a bad turn. WORDS ARE SAID, ACTIONS ARE TAKEN.

Listen here or stream/download the chapter’s mp3 or m4b on AO3.

Reader note: This chapter includes what may be my favourite first kiss of all time.

tumblr links to: First Chapter | Previous Chapter

Covered up

Christ, where the hell am I now? I must be outside, because there is a cold breeze and it’s dark. Like, can’t-see-your-own-hand-before-your-eyes dark, which is hard to come by in a pulsing city like London. There are neither street lamps nor cars or the comforting glow of lit up windows, only the dim flickering of a few stars above me.

I can smell wet grass and dirt and…is that paint?

J: I don’t understand. It…it was here… ten minutes ago. I saw it. A whole load of graffiti!

S: Somebody doesn’t want me to see it.

Oh, there they are! Thank god, I was afraid I was alone out here. John is waving a torch around, which causes the light to reflect off of something metal on the damp ground. Train tracks. Are we at the arse-end of London between train stations? That would explain the lack of other light sources.

Sherlock is standing next to him, staring at a brick wall, which has been painted black. Without warning he spins around and grabs John’s head.

Originally posted by holmeswatsoned

Ahem… did I miss something? John is just as confused, eyes squeezing shut, while every muscle in his body locks up. Standing stock still, he sucks in a sharp breath and doesn’t let it out again. He almost looks scared. As if he was bracing for a punch or…something.

Originally posted by holmeswatsoned

Sherlock is babbling about concentration and visualisation, but I don’t think John is actually listening to him.

J: What are you doing?

The high voice has returned. I’ve only heard him use it once before, and that was the day he came home to find Sherlock sitting around the flat in nothing but a sheet.

Sherlock finally lets go of John’s face. Instead, his hands slide further down and find new purchase on his arms.

Originally posted by holmeswatsoned

And now they are spinning. Why are they spinning? I don’t…What?

John’s eyes seem to have grown to double their usual size. He’s not even trying to stop Sherlock, just stares at him as he is being questioned about the symbols he found earlier.

This has to be the weirdest dance/not-dance I have witnessed in my life and in my afterlife. Sherlock, my dear friend…WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?

J: Yeah, well, don’t worry. I remember all of it.

S: Really?

Originally posted by holmeswatsoned

J: Yeah, well at least I would…

Finally John manages to rip himself free. He stumbles back a few steps, reaches into his trouser pocket and digs out his phone.

J: … if I can get to my pockets! I took a photograph.

He holds up the image for Sherlock to see, careful to keep a couple of steps of distance between them.

Sherlock’s gaze is glued to the phone. Apart from his wildly fluttering eyelids, he has frozen on the spot. John probably can’t see it, too flustered to pay attention himself, but Sherlock’s entire posture is screaming of embarrassment, now that the urgency has faded and his own actions are starting to sink in.

He gives a timid wag of his head, carefully avoiding to look up at John and shifts from one foot to the other.

S: Good. Okay. That was… That was smart.

He opens his mouth to stutter out something more, but snaps it shut again. With another nod he turns and starts to walk off. After a couple of steps he halts. Wrong direction.

He closes his eyes, frustrated with himself, does a one-eighty and slinks off the way they came.

John is still a little wide eyed and it takes him a second to come back to himself. When he notices Sherlock’s silhouette walking off without him, he puffs out a loud breath and pockets his phone before finally following after him.