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Jan. 13th, 2012 08:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impishtubistTitle: Demarcation Line
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Spoilers: for ACD canon
Word Count: c. 800
Warnings: Reichenbach fic
Summary: The first thing John asks when Mycroft tells him is, “Has anyone told Greg yet?”
The first thing John asks when Mycroft tells him is, “Has anyone told Greg yet?”, because despite what Sherlock likes to say about him - liked, John; it’s ‘liked’ now - he’s not ignorant and he’s far from unobservant. John’s seen Lestrade keep careful watch over Sherlock in hospital, his warm eyes heavy with concern; he was there at the moor the night after the Baskerville case had been solved, listening (though he'd pretended he wasn’t) as a stream of assurances spilled from the Lestrade’s lips (“It’s all right, you’re fine now, just had a bit of a scare but look, everyone’s safe...”).
John’s even had the privilege of being there when Lestrade pulls out what Donovan calls (though not to his face) the ‘Dad voice’ (“Sherlock William Holmes, get that bloody harpoon out of my office right now!”). He knows that, even with all the words in the English language at his disposal, he’ll never be able to properly define what Sherlock is (was) to Lestrade - but he’d wager that son comes the closest.
And father and son aren’t labels that Sherlock and Lestrade ever mentally applied to themselves, John is sure, but on more than one occasion he’s heard Sherlock slip up and utter dad before Lestrade and Lestrade’s been guilty of using sunshine in return and, once, darling boy, but John wasn’t supposed to have overheard that particular conversation.
So when Mycroft tells John that Sherlock is gone, and that he isn’t coming back and no, this isn’t a trick, the first person on John’s mind is Lestrade. The Detective Inspector has never expected of Sherlock what parents normally expect of their children - the chance to dance at a wedding, grandchildren, the occasional phone call. John doesn’t think that it’s ever even crossed his mind (though Lestrade and Sherlock had their own version of the weekly phone call anyway - texting - and John swears he heard Lestrade say, once, “Dammit, Sherlock, I hope one day your children drive you as mad as you’ve driven me!”). But John does know that the one thing Lestrade’s ever asked of Sherlock, the one thing that all parents hope for, is the chance to precede him into the grave.
It’s bitter, John knows, but he can’t help the Dammit, Sherlock, couldn’t you have granted him that after all he’s done for you? that crosses his mind as Mycroft sits across from him. The words are barely out of Mycroft’s mouth and already John’s blaming Sherlock for the news.
And when Mycroft finally answers, “No,” John’s heart sinks, because he knows then that the news will need to come from him. He doesn’t want to be the one to bear the news, because Lestrade will always remember him for it, but it can come from no one else. They’ve moved from “Doctor” and “Lestrade” to “John” and “Greg” in recent months, each recognizing in the other an ally of sorts; perhaps even a friend. They are both bound up in Sherlock’s mad orbit, and no one else on the planet could understand what that is like. Theirs is a shared wonder.
Was.
And now theirs will be a shared grief.
John knows that Lestrade will believe him when he brings the news, because he’s never had reason to lie to Lestrade before and isn’t about to start now. He’ll have questions; John will answer what he can. He knows that Lestrade will remain stoic, but a chink will appear in this façade when he hears that there isn’t even a body for him to bury. He’ll thank John, and ask if there’s anything he can do for him, because that’s how Lestrade is - always thinking of everyone before himself.
And then he’ll ask John to leave, because they’re modern men. They go to therapists when the situation calls for it, accept help when they need it, and know the dangers of holding in the grief. But one has to draw the line somewhere, and crying in front of one another - that simply Isn’t Done. John will know why he’s being asked to leave, and Lestrade will realize this, but they won’t speak of it beyond that. John will go home, close the door, and allow himself a tear or two with the knowledge that across town, Lestrade is doing the same. But it won’t last long, and it’ll happen once - maybe twice, but after that you have to move on.
They’ll throw themselves into their respective jobs, meet up for Christmas and on the anniversary of Sherlock’s death, exchange the occasional phone call. Lestrade will take up the cigarettes again because he’s lost himself to drink before and smoking, he feels, is the safer option. John will stay in Baker Street, but what he’ll do beyond that - he can’t say.
They’ll bury a man who left behind no body and accept this - Before Sherlock and After Sherlock - as the line of demarcation down their lives. He taught them out to be alive again; now they must learn how to live without him.
----
Final Notes: Sherlock's middle name is a nod to Holmes scholar William S. Baring-Gould's theory that the detective's full name was "William Sherlock Scott Holmes."
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Spoilers: for ACD canon
Word Count: c. 800
Warnings: Reichenbach fic
Summary: The first thing John asks when Mycroft tells him is, “Has anyone told Greg yet?”
The first thing John asks when Mycroft tells him is, “Has anyone told Greg yet?”, because despite what Sherlock likes to say about him - liked, John; it’s ‘liked’ now - he’s not ignorant and he’s far from unobservant. John’s seen Lestrade keep careful watch over Sherlock in hospital, his warm eyes heavy with concern; he was there at the moor the night after the Baskerville case had been solved, listening (though he'd pretended he wasn’t) as a stream of assurances spilled from the Lestrade’s lips (“It’s all right, you’re fine now, just had a bit of a scare but look, everyone’s safe...”).
John’s even had the privilege of being there when Lestrade pulls out what Donovan calls (though not to his face) the ‘Dad voice’ (“Sherlock William Holmes, get that bloody harpoon out of my office right now!”). He knows that, even with all the words in the English language at his disposal, he’ll never be able to properly define what Sherlock is (was) to Lestrade - but he’d wager that son comes the closest.
And father and son aren’t labels that Sherlock and Lestrade ever mentally applied to themselves, John is sure, but on more than one occasion he’s heard Sherlock slip up and utter dad before Lestrade and Lestrade’s been guilty of using sunshine in return and, once, darling boy, but John wasn’t supposed to have overheard that particular conversation.
So when Mycroft tells John that Sherlock is gone, and that he isn’t coming back and no, this isn’t a trick, the first person on John’s mind is Lestrade. The Detective Inspector has never expected of Sherlock what parents normally expect of their children - the chance to dance at a wedding, grandchildren, the occasional phone call. John doesn’t think that it’s ever even crossed his mind (though Lestrade and Sherlock had their own version of the weekly phone call anyway - texting - and John swears he heard Lestrade say, once, “Dammit, Sherlock, I hope one day your children drive you as mad as you’ve driven me!”). But John does know that the one thing Lestrade’s ever asked of Sherlock, the one thing that all parents hope for, is the chance to precede him into the grave.
It’s bitter, John knows, but he can’t help the Dammit, Sherlock, couldn’t you have granted him that after all he’s done for you? that crosses his mind as Mycroft sits across from him. The words are barely out of Mycroft’s mouth and already John’s blaming Sherlock for the news.
And when Mycroft finally answers, “No,” John’s heart sinks, because he knows then that the news will need to come from him. He doesn’t want to be the one to bear the news, because Lestrade will always remember him for it, but it can come from no one else. They’ve moved from “Doctor” and “Lestrade” to “John” and “Greg” in recent months, each recognizing in the other an ally of sorts; perhaps even a friend. They are both bound up in Sherlock’s mad orbit, and no one else on the planet could understand what that is like. Theirs is a shared wonder.
Was.
And now theirs will be a shared grief.
John knows that Lestrade will believe him when he brings the news, because he’s never had reason to lie to Lestrade before and isn’t about to start now. He’ll have questions; John will answer what he can. He knows that Lestrade will remain stoic, but a chink will appear in this façade when he hears that there isn’t even a body for him to bury. He’ll thank John, and ask if there’s anything he can do for him, because that’s how Lestrade is - always thinking of everyone before himself.
And then he’ll ask John to leave, because they’re modern men. They go to therapists when the situation calls for it, accept help when they need it, and know the dangers of holding in the grief. But one has to draw the line somewhere, and crying in front of one another - that simply Isn’t Done. John will know why he’s being asked to leave, and Lestrade will realize this, but they won’t speak of it beyond that. John will go home, close the door, and allow himself a tear or two with the knowledge that across town, Lestrade is doing the same. But it won’t last long, and it’ll happen once - maybe twice, but after that you have to move on.
They’ll throw themselves into their respective jobs, meet up for Christmas and on the anniversary of Sherlock’s death, exchange the occasional phone call. Lestrade will take up the cigarettes again because he’s lost himself to drink before and smoking, he feels, is the safer option. John will stay in Baker Street, but what he’ll do beyond that - he can’t say.
They’ll bury a man who left behind no body and accept this - Before Sherlock and After Sherlock - as the line of demarcation down their lives. He taught them out to be alive again; now they must learn how to live without him.
----
Final Notes: Sherlock's middle name is a nod to Holmes scholar William S. Baring-Gould's theory that the detective's full name was "William Sherlock Scott Holmes."
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no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 02:21 pm (UTC)And... DAD VOICE! That made me smile. And their version of the weekly phone call.
[Edited now I've had time to think]
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:05 pm (UTC)I had to throw 'dad voice' in there. Just had to. Glad you liked!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 02:56 pm (UTC)I love John's perceptiveness, despite his own pain.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 03:31 pm (UTC)Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. What a wonderful story to wake up to. Thank you for writing it!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 05:24 pm (UTC)And typical of Mycroft to get John to tell Lestrade, because he will believe him.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:07 pm (UTC)I think Mycroft also just doesn't want to have to be the one to tell Lestrade, and he knows that John is the best choice for it. Plus, Mycroft and Lestrade have never gotten along.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 06:11 pm (UTC)But I'm still worried.
Oh, great fic as usual, btw. Thank you: nothing better than waiting for the worst with the best (authors).
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:07 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:15 pm (UTC)You know they will leave us with a cliffhanger of epic proportions on Sunday, and this will most likely fit right in!
So beautiful, I am in awe of your writing, the line about preceding their children is so true.
Thank you for this!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:25 pm (UTC)So very sad, but, oh, so well written and moving.
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:49 pm (UTC)I am definitely not ready for Sunday - I'm sure whatever they come up with will be far more brutal than this. Thank you for this comment, though!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 11:07 pm (UTC)This was really well written. So quiet and understated, and understanding, not only John of Greg's grief, but also John of his own grief. Thanks for sharing.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:50 pm (UTC)Thank you for liking this, and for finding it well-written. That means a lot!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-13 11:32 pm (UTC)am sort of hoping that by whole heartedly embracing the inevitable angst now through experiencing such spot on works as yours, come sunday it won't be so bad.
at least the plan. thank you for the help with my efforts!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:51 pm (UTC)You are welcome! I hope fics like these help before Sunday destroys us all.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 06:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-14 01:52 pm (UTC)Lovely
Date: 2012-06-17 02:28 am (UTC)Re: Lovely
Date: 2012-06-17 03:21 am (UTC)This was actually written just before the final episode of series 2 aired, so I had no idea how they would adapt "The Final Problem." Thus, this version of Holmes' death is more of a generalized one. I'm pleased you were able to understand it, regardless.
Thanks for taking the time to read and comment! And I hope you enjoy the BBC's version once you get a chance to watch it. Believe it or not, they actually stick pretty close to the original stories.