#i’ll post a photo of the crime kitty if y’all want

[twoants]

this is a callout post for my sister. they havent done anything lately but i’m bored so im calling her out

they have a tumblr but they used a niCKNAME THAT IS SUPER CLOSE TO HER ACTUaAL NAME AND OUR REAL LAST NAME????????????????? did she learn nothing from those bajillion internet safety videos and lectures they had us sit through in school???????????????? have they no brains in their head??????????? do they have no sense????????? and on top of that sHE DOESNT EVEN HAVE ANYTHING ON IT???????? she just likes shit???????? her tumblr is completely empty, default icon and backround??????? like wtf girl?????? ur an artist?????? draw some drugs or mushrooms or at least one of your pride flags like me or something???? i’m sorry but like does she know nothing

also her cat is a criminal. a little crime cat

[notgonnarememberthis]

The Fall - Chapter 2

In lew of that pre finale I figured people would need something a little softer, luckily I had this prepared for just such an occasion! This bit is set 5 years after the first chapter and deals with Watson adopting a child named Leo who’s 4 in this. He’s made some appearances in other fics of mine but they’re not connected. I just like the flow of the name Leo Watson.

Now I’ve had people asking if I would continue to write for them even after the show ends and my answer is absolutely. These two will always be a classic favorite of mine and I think I’ll still be writing them for years to come should the ideas come to me. I have friends that are behind on the show so I have no doubt I’ll be rewatching with them. I just hope y’all will continue to have me. I’ll also be posting occasional art as I now have the means to digitalize some of my drawings.

Out of all things in the house, Watson will never get used to the silence. Even when Leo was a baby it didn’t compare to Sherlock’s presence. Random explosions, various bangings, and the occasional fall kept the Brownstone in near constance noise. Now as she studies the newest crime scene photos with her son coloring in the other room leaves the plaster walls in an unnatural quiet. She can hear every creak of the house settling, the light scribbling on paper, all the way down to the heels of his shoes tapping softly against the couch as he swings his feet.

She almost lets out a sigh of relief when the teapot begins whistling breaking the tense air. Abandoning the work for a second she goes to tend to the tea. Days like this are the worst; the case is boring at best, there’s no need to call up for Kitty’s help, Marcus is focused as the newest captain of the 11th. She’s on her own.

She slides her hand through her hair listening for the sounds of Leo. Whenever things have gotten rough, whenever she found herself wanting to run, she grounds herself by looking at her son. It’s been four years since she’s adopted him and he’s only getting more curious. She can’t help but love him a little more every time he looks up at her with sparkling eyes as he makes a new discovery. Watching him and Archie explore feels so incredibly innocent. She can’t help but smile.

However, she doesn’t hear the light taps or scribbling. She pokes her head around the corner finding the coloring supplies abandoned with no mop of hair in sight. “Leo?” She calls. He might have scurried off to the bathroom, logic dictates. Her eyes flash to the door, it’s closed but unlocked. Her heart falls certain that she’d locked it. She locks it every time.

Her pace quickens through the house. With every room empty, panic takes a tighter grip on her throat. Tears are just gathering in her eyes when she hears his voice. He’s explaining in broken sentences. It’s not an irregular occurrence as he frequently talks to stuffed animals and even his imaginary friend. She encourages him to learn to talk as much as possible and with an outstanding creativity he takes all the chances he can get.

Yet the panic doesn’t abate. Not when she spies two shadows casting through the doorway. “Mommy!” His voice cries as she steps through the door. Quick footsteps echo as he crashes into her. She lifts him without hesitation but isn’t even looking at him. Rather her eyes are trained on the other figure.

He’s sitting with his back turned to her, staring up at the wall of art Leo has made over the years. He’s got on a dark jacket paired with khaki dress pants. The shorn back of his head looks painfully familiar. She tries so hard not to hope. His words echo in her ears. A promise he’d made to her five years ago.

“It’s Uncle Sherlock.” Leo whispers in her ear like it’s a secret. Sherlock chooses to turn in that moment. He looks older than she remembers, wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. He’s got rough stubble forming and his eyes harbour sadness that she remembers all too fondly.

“Hey, why don’t you go color me a picture?” She places a kiss on the little boy’s cheek before putting him down. She waits until he scurries off to make her move.

As she turns back Sherlock is standing now, eyes running over her. “You cut your hair.” He states. She’d chopped her hair off to a bob after a particular case involving children. She’d needed a change in that moment. It was a spur of the moment decision.

“Good observation.” He chuckles, a light rumble in his chest. She can’t hold back her reservations anymore, comfort be damned. She takes three steps before wrapping her arms around him tightly. She shuts her eyes trying to will the tears to go away as they build up. However, when he wraps his arms around her returning the hug she can’t help it as they flow down her cheeks staining his jacket.

“I’m so sorry Watson.” He whispers into her hair. She shakes her head against him. Right now she doesn’t need an explanation. That can be saved for later. Right now she just wants to pray that this isn’t a sick dream.

She pulls away suddenly, a hand coming up to his cheek. “Have you seen Bell, Gregson?”

“No. I came here first.”

“Are you…” She doesn’t dare to finish the sentence. Not when there’s a chance that he’s only stopped by. Not when he could so easily leave her all over again.

“I’m back. For good.” She nods jerkily. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, so light that she’s unsure it happened at first. “Now, I do believe there’s someone I need a proper introduction to. Though he seems to already know me quite fondly.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The Brownstone is never quiet anymore. His experiments have become less severe, yes, but now with Leo studying him asking questions with curious eyes. Sherlock is all too enthusiastic to explain what he is doing, already seeing the potential in a new student so young. Even when they’re not working Sherlock takes up a role as caretaker with ease. She’s seen how he acted as godfather to Archie, it’s not shocking.

She watches the two of them as they run around the living room, Sherlock chasing Leo in a game of their own. It starts with a game of chess, delves into something like tag, before going back to chess again. She can’t say she misses the quiet even in the slightest. Not when she sees them smile, not when she catches them both with Leo sleeping on Sherlock’s lap, and not when they walk hand in hand eating their ice cream as she trails just behind texting Marcus about the latest case. Now instead of light tapping or scribbling as she makes tea, screams of laughter echo through the Brownstone. The walls singing with a young family, her family.