The voice comes, rough and uncertain, from somewhere down the hall; Sherlock looks up from the microscope instantly and cranes his neck to see John standing just out of the reach of the light, still in shadow. He’d gone to bed nearly two–no, three–hours ago and should be fast asleep, not standing tentatively just where Sherlock can’t see his face. Nightmare, probably.
“John?” he answers, sliding off the stool and coming around the table. John takes a step back and Sherlock stops, steadying himself with one hand on the worktop. “You okay?”
John hesitates, his left hand clenching and unclenching ever so slowly by his side. The collar of his t-shirt is misshapen where it’s been pulled away from his neck. When he speaks, his voice is deliberate. “Are you coming to bed?”
“Yeah,” Sherlock nods, and then, because John is trying to hide behind some semblance of normality and Sherlock doesn’t want to crowd him just yet, he adds, “Yeah, just let me finish up here, I won’t be long. Another five minutes.”
There’s another long pause but eventually John says, “Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t turn around, though. He doesn’t go back to bed. He lingers in the hall and watches Sherlock take one more look through the microscope lens and make a notation–it says experiment abandoned (J)–and then do a cursory tidy-up before locking up the doors and turning off the lights.
Finally Sherlock switches off the last light in the flat, leaving everything cloaked and shadowed, and then John is in his arms, coming forward in the safety of the darkness to push his face into Sherlock’s neck and wrap himself around him. His cheek against Sherlock’s skin is damp and overwarm. There’d been tears, then.
“All right?” Sherlock asks quietly. He rubs John’s back, firm but gentle, reminding him of the boundaries of his body, revealing the edges of reality under the blurry film of dreaming.
John shakes his head. “No,” he says, hoarse with honesty, settling himself along the lines of Sherlock’s body, giving over his tension, giving in to his exhaustion in the shelter of Sherlock’s arms. He gives the tiniest sigh of relief. “But I will be. I will be.”
“I’ll be here,” Sherlock promises, and he cradles the back of John’s head and closes his eyes. He’ll stand here until John’s feet get cold and then take him to bed, and he’ll hold him there until he falls asleep, and in the morning they might not yet be all right, but they will be. They’re working toward it. They’re trying, together, and that’s enough.
It’s not an answer, and it’s not a solution, but it’s enough. It’s hope, and for tonight, it’s enough.
What makes us like a certain color? Pink and blue or yellow and orange? How come some people like the taste of a certain food while others cannot stand it? How are some of us night owls and others morning birds? How are we attracted towards some people and not others? We’re made the same way, aren’t we?
What is it about us, about people, that makes us so different? We are all so goddamn messy, yet still capable of causing each other so much pain.
People are so flawed, and yet I still love them.
winifred burkle once told me after a sinful amount of chinese food, and in lieu of absolutely nothing, “i think a lot of people would choose to be green. your shade, if they had the choice.” if i hear one note—one quarter-note—that tells me you had any involvement, these two won’t even have time to kill you.
Summary: Cassian is missing Reader lately and starts to take some moments to remember their shared times, all while getting familiar with the people in his new somewhat team of his. Takes place before and during the events of Rogue One.
Notes: Eeeep! So, this has been sitting in my drafts for like a month and I finally found the courage to post it. The series is definitely going to be multiple parts, I’m planning on 7-8 chapters, but, we’ll see! Also, HUGE, HUGE THANK YOU to actual angel, Aub aka @warqueenfuriosa for helping me out with this!
i feel like i owe to those who waited
an apology and an explanation
y’all might know me for translating stuff regarding ouma kokichi from ndrv3 weeks after its release (links of my translations is in here, if you don’t remember)
it’s been six months since i mentioned about my future plans for translating stuff regarding ndrv3, but obviously that never went through
i could juggle the time between university and translating, that was for sure, but uh haha it feels weird talking about it but
some of you might not know i have a heart disease; there were times when i tried to open my drafts but never went through because there’s literally a pain inside my chest and felt like dying; so obviously that sucks and it has consumed the supposed free time i allotted for translations lol gg
i’m really glad someone did pick up what i was supposed to translate? kudos to @oumakokichi and their translations, specifically on said transcription that i was supposed to translate (also this is my blatant and shameless way of saying holy shit i love your metas and analyses!!! keep up the good work!!!) they did a very good job at that and also the parts that i did get to translate somewhat resembles theirs so i’m kinda relieved i got my version of translation right LOL
so leaves the ultimate question though: am i going to continue translating? well… not for ndrv3, not because i’m still sick (i’m doing better!) but because i feel… accomplished already with what i have contributed to the fandom. translating for ndrv3 has always been a really fun blast especially at that time when we had to deal with false spoilers and the ouma hate LOL debunking those esp regarding ouma was a really great moment!! i’ll never forget these experiences :)
i do still want to translate more in the future - ndrv3 was a great start at my making as a translator, but it’s time for me to go explore what else can be translated :)
thank you for reading!!! support the worldwide release of ndrv3 when it comes out!!!