four beats from soft, part three

[fleetingmadness]

part iii: oh no.

John realizes it four months after they come home from the hospital.

Sherlock has been obsessing over Moriarty ever since Lestrade let it slip that they found no trace of him at the scene. John could have killed the Inspector for that one. Ever since they were released, the detective has done nothing but research. He’s actually had to coerce Sherlock into taking cases, because apparently nothing is as important as James Fucking Moriarty. Not even eating, sleeping, or just generally taking care of oneself.

The day Sherlock actually passed out from exhaustion, John decided that things had to change. He reluctantly ended things with Sarah (who seemed more relieved that anything) and called in the big guns. Mycroft agreed to pay their all of their living expenses for a while so that John could quit his job and focus all of his attention on Sherlock.

Taking care of Sherlock Holmes is a daunting challenge, and it certainly lived up to John’s expectations. That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy it. Despite what everyone else thinks, spending time with Sherlock can be rather fun.

“Sherlock, please put the gun down. Ms. Hudson might actually kill you if you shoot up her wall again.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes. “It’s our wall, John. We’re paying for it.”

John opens his mouth to retort when it suddenly goes dry. Oh. Oh, no.

When Sherlock said ‘our,’ something in John’s chest clenched.

John knew that clench.

He knew that clench very well.

Well, fuck.



♫ | 4TH DIMENSIONAL TRANSITION - mgmt.
if what they say is true, you are a shadow in fourth dimension. to float away from you, we see corners where nothing happens. // you speak the language of the breeze. all your leaves were meant for me. the love that every person wants to be. stuck together, i don't like revealing secrets. i'll live inside your lips if you won't laugh.

♫ | MAKE ME WANNA DIE - pretty reckless.
i'll never be good enough. you make we wanna die. and everything you love will burn up in the light. and every time i look inside your eyes, you make me wanna die.

♫ | MOTH'S WINGS - passion pit.
you come beating like moth's wings, spastic and violently, whipping me into a storm, shaking me down to the core. // you're resting on your laurels and stepping on my eyes. whose side are you on? what side is this, anyway? put down your sword and crown, come lay with me on the ground.

♫ | THE SALTWATER ROOM - owl city.
so, tell me, darling, do you wish we'd fall in love? yeah, all the time. all the time. time together isn't ever quite enough. when you and i are alone, i've never felt so at home.



They had been getting on so well. John was home all the time, so Sherlock was never bored. He was healthier than he’s ever been, thanks to John’s careful instruction and irritatingly watchful eye. John even seemed more cheerful than usual. He hadn’t woken Sherlock up with his screams in a long time.

So Sherlock was understandably perplexed when John suddenly began dating again. Sherlock could tell that he wasn’t particularly enamored of this girl—Mary or Maggie or something equally as boring—and yet he spent almost every evening with her. It was beyond annoying, but it made Sherlock appreciate the time that he did spend with him.

His favorite time is the early morning, when John is still half asleep and stumbling around the flat, begging Sherlock to please, please, learn to make coffee if he’s going to be the first one up every day. His hair is disheveled and his clothes never match, and Sherlock thinks it’s kind of fantastic.

He doesn’t like the nights nearly as much. Sometimes John is drunk and he slumps onto the couch beside Sherlock, a little too close. He’ll sigh and hang his head in his hands and Sherlock thinks that he should probably try to comfort him but he doesn’t really know how. Once he placed his hand on John’s shoulder and squeezed, like Mycroft used to do when Sherlock was upset. John groaned and lifted his head, staring at Sherlock in a strange way. Sherlock quickly removed his hand, concerned.

John smiled and said, “You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

Sherlock frowned. “What did I do now?”

John laughed, but it wasn’t the laugh Sherlock was used to. John then stood, walking out the door without answering him.

Sherlock gazes after him for some time before deciding that John was just drunk and confused, and nothing should be read into anything he says. John spends the next night at the girl’s house and Sherlock feels cold and angry but nothing should really be read into that, either.



♫ | MAGNOLIA - the hush sound.
your heartbeat is pulsing at night in your chest; it's gold and glowing with all the life that you have left. i received your words from hospitals where you felt alone. your words like smoke, they made me sick, but they kept me warm. // you are weathered and worn, your petals soft and torn, the fading color. you have bent your shoulders to hold the weight of the world, you will surely shatter.

♫ | OUT OF MY HEAD - fastball.
sometimes i feel like i am drunk behind the wheel. the wheel of possibility, however it may roll. give it a spin, see if you can somehow factor in, you know there's always more than one way to say exactly what you mean to say.

♫ | PAPILLON - the airborne toxic event.
and you grab my shirt, your way so curt, and i swear to god that this doesn't hurt, when you stare like that, you put on that act, you say something and then take it back. // and i wish i had the guts to scream, "you know, things aren't always what they seem; when you walk away, i want you to stay, don't leave me here to pace and pray."

♫ | I'M YOUR VILLAIN - franz ferdinand.
if i could laugh, i'd love you. if i could smile at anything you said, we could be laughing lovers. i think you'd prefer to be miserable instead. if could love, i'd love you. if i could love like anybody else.

.zip

{ part one | part two | part three | part four }