Elementary again pulling me in, because that's what it does best.
Where We Belong.
Sherlock & Joan, or Sherlock/Joan, whatever you want to read it. Rated: M. Words: 2 904. Hurt/Comfort. Discussion of cancer. Discussion of drugs. Guilt. Lies. POV Sherlock Holmes. Protective Sherlock Holmes. Hurt Joan Watson.
Set in the last episode S07E13 “Their Last Bow”.
Missing scene after Sherlock decides to stay with Watson, and the time-jump of one year later.
The reality of Watson's illness suffocates them, Sherlock's guilt eats at him for having been away when he should've been with her.
Emotions run high, and Sherlock wants nothing more than to comfort and reassure Watson.
Her skin was cool from the shower, but his touch was warm and steady. She looked away, her gaze darting around the room. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, slowly, gently, the rhythm matching the slow, deep breaths he forced himself to take to keep his voice steady. His eyes sought hers, but she wouldn’t meet them. Not yet.
“It’s alright, Watson. Arthur is safe with Rose, and I won’t leave come morning. Tonight, we can take it slow. Agreed?” he said, his voice low. There was a softness to his tone that surprised even him, a warmth that felt foreign and yet… right. Like an old habit finally remembered.
Watson nodded, her lower lip quivering. He could feel the tremor in her hand now, the faintest shake as the weight of her emotions began to surface. He saw the tears well in her eyes and stepped forward.
His arms easily found their place around her, holding her close, as though they belonged there. He pulled her in, gentle but secure, grounding her as she trembled in his embrace.
The scent of her washed hair—a hint of something floral—filled his senses, stirring a deep, familiar ache in his heart.
He was home.
A home he had missed without realising just how much.
For three long years, he had delved into work, needing an outlet to forget the fact that he missed her. It had been hard to accept that, regardless of trying to focus on his health and sobriety, without Watson it felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe.
He threw himself into work, closing case after case. Trying to avoid thinking about her and spiralling out of control.
All the while, he hadn’t been there when she needed him. When she faced life without news from him, not knowing if he was dead or alive. When Arthur came into her world and he welcomed him. Or when her diagnosis came.
He’d fought his own battles, forcing her to face hers alone. Without him.
And he had failed her when it mattered most.
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I’m having a danger night and no one’s around. What do I do?
Distract yourself, try some other activity to focus on, read a book, go on a google session to learn something new, write with someone or call someone, watch some interesting videos on Youtube, exercise a bit, or just go to sleep. Can't crave if you are asleep, can you?
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The Cigarette Duet and Since I First Saw Your Face by Stavia Scott Grayson (@artemisastarte)
Recently I heard a song called Cigarette Duet - and the lyrics really match Holmes' and Watson's drug situation in both Since I First Saw Your Face (and also the original works by Arthur Conan Doyle) so I simply had to share it with everyone ^^
Cigarette Duet is a song sung by Princess Chelsea, who sings the lyrics belonging to the cigarette addict (in our case, coke/morphine and Holmes) and Jonathan Bree, who sings the parts of the concerned lover/friend (Watson).
It's just a cigarette and it cannot be that bad
Honey, don't you love me and you know it makes me sad
Just like Holmes telling Watson that the cocaine is fine and that it really helps him - clears his head, makes him think faster, whatnot - and Watson telling Holmes he feels hurt to see Holmes harming himself in this way...
It's just a cigarette and it harms your pretty lungs
Well it's only twice a week so there's not much of a chance
It's just a cigarette, it'll soon be only ten
Honey, can't you trust me? When I want to stop I can
Watson asking Holmes about how often he takes the cocaine, and Holmes talking of how little he takes it and how he has complete control over himself 🥲
It's just a cigarette and I only did it once
It's just a cigarette, it'll soon be only ten
It's only twice a week so there's not much of a chance
It'll make you sick, girl, there's not much of a chance
It's just a cigarette, and I'm sorry that I did it
It's just a cigarette and you'll be sorry that you did it
Honey, can't you trust me? When I want to stop I can
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Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction.
Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it.
Damn, today's letter from dr Watson cuts right through today's booping-induced euphoria and into my very soul. Watson. Dear Watson. You told us earlier that Holmes' cocaine use was occasional. But three times a day, for many months? That paints an altogether different picture of the severeness of Holmes' addiction and makes my heart ache for both my men
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one funny thing about the original sherlock holmes stories is they were written before people knew how bad drugs are. so, like, sherlock holmes does hard drugs all the time. watson will walk into their apartment & there's sherlock, snorting coke at 11am on a tuesday.
watson, being a doctor, knows this isn't healthy, but no one then knew how unhealthy it was. so watson is portrayed more like a nagging wife: "mr. holmes, get OFF the couch, stop eating all the potato chips, and STOP shooting HEROIN in the livingroom!"
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Angstober 2023, Oct. 14 prompt: What You Swore to Destroy
Also fits Inktober 2023, Oct. 31 prompt: Fire
Elementary episode: 3x12
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You're not weird. Maybe a bit bizar, yes but that's not a bad thing.
You're logical. You don't understand why people can't just think. You feel as if you are superior to others because of your intellect.
A lot of people (including me) recognize themselves in the way you act/are.
But most people are illogical idiots who don't think at all. So how can a lot of people recognise themselves in me if most people are stupid and not at all intelligent? And I am superior due to my intellect, so no one can be like me. And it probably would not be very recommendable to act or be like me, only I am able to do that successfully without significant damage.
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