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Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."


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Prompting: Part II
Giggles at the Palace
sherlockbbc_fic
Please check the Sticky Post to find the newest active part and post your prompts there.

Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post


GENERAL GUIDELINES
+Anon posting is most definitely allowed, but not required.
+All kinds of fills are accepted! Fic, art, vids, cosplay, interpretive dance--whatever. Go wild! :D
+Keep things neat! Read prompts before you post to see if something similar has already been done, and while you are encouraged to prompt as much as you like, try to fill as well.
+Please do not re-post prompts unless the last time they were prompted was on an older part. Simply put: ONE posting of each prompt per part.
+Until further notice, RPF (real person fic, i.e. fic involving the actors themselves) is not supported at this meme. UPDATE: sherlockrpf</lj> has set up an RPF meme post in their community. Anon posting is on, and that meme is free for you all to use.
+Depending on the rate of activity, there may or may not be a prompt freeze when a part reaches 5000 comments.
+However, there will be one when it reaches 7000. Also at 7000, a new part will be posted, and all prompting should happen on the new part.
+Multiple fills are encouraged! (: Just because a prompt has already been claimed by someone, do not be afraid to offer up a second fill.

THE FILLED PROMPTS POST
The new Filled Prompts Post is officially up and running! I’d like to ask that you all are patient as we work out the bugs in the system, but other than that, please make sure you post your fills there according to the guidelines. DO NOT skip out on doing this because it seems like too much effort-- While a mod will do an archiving sweep every now and then, we don’t want to be putting every single fill in the post.
Do not be afraid to ask questions about how it works if you are confused! Either of the mods would be happy to explain.

CONTACTING MODS
There are two mods for this meme. Your main mod is jjgd , and any questions, concerns, comments about anything at all on the meme should be directed to her via either PM or the page-a-mod post.
There is also an archivist: snowishness . If you have questions or concerns regarding the Filled Prompts Post (general questions, broken links, etc.) she can be reached on the page-a-mod post as well.

RE: OFFENSIVELY WORDED PROMPTS
Guys, I will only put in one reminder about this.
Think before you prompt about the way you are asking. It isn’t difficult, and it will only take a minute or so of your time.

That said...
DISCLAIMER
This is a kink meme. As such, there will be prompts that could offend you in a number of different ways. Not every prompt will have a trigger warning, and not every prompt will rub you the right way. If you have an issue with a specific prompt, feel free to bring it up in a discussion that takes place off the meme. However, flaming will not be tolerated regardless of origin.
You have rights to an opinion, of course, just as you have the right to scroll right past a prompt that you dislike.

Remember, guys; Be civil, be friendly, but don’t be shy!

LINKS AND AFFILIATES
- Delicious Archive - Filled Prompts Post - Page-A-Mod - List of all the Prompting Posts - Flat View of This Pagesherlockfest - Sherlock RPF Request Post - Overflow Post -


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Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

The phone goes again and oh, oh god, no. Connie Prince smirks out of the small screen and John makes a light-hearted comment about his continued (permanent) unemployment and Mrs Hudson's viewing habits (Mrs Hudson never watches Connie Prince; thinks she's a vapid old bitch but he's safe; Sherlock won't ask if he thinks the presented evidence is plausible)crosses to turn on the TV. (Connie's voice hisses through the static. "Number fifteen, lovey. They're just showing me on the BBC again.")

John twitches and smiles blandly at the girl (Anne) behind the counter as he picks out one-five on the remote, looking down so he won't see Connie's face until the TV shows her clip with Tyra ("Lovely, lovely girl. She's going to be married soon, did you know? All thanks to me.") and the newsreader's voice droning over her. Connie's voice – the one that talks to John through static and background noise – fades away. The phone rings a second later and John swallows. He fumbles for the volume control and turns it down.

Sherlock's expression doesn't change as the latest puppet starts to speak. Then he ducks his head and suddenly, John needs to be closer. There are ...reflections – thin, sepia-coloured memories flooding the cheap plastic walls. A woman, in a wheelchair – one of those old iron carriages, probably in her eighties. Not the caller (Ruth-Elizabeth Darlington, 72, widow. Living alone though her son has wanted her to move in with him since she was declared legally blind. She doesn't want to be a burden; isn't staying where memories of her George are everywhere. She'll be dead in less than a day.), but someone else. Someone more important.

The old woman he can see has white eyes and long nervous fingers. There's a boy, blurry and out-of-focus, just tall enough that his head is on a level with her lap. He's holding up a fistful of flowers and the old woman accepts each one and runs her fingers over it, smiling small and proud. John takes his seat opposite Sherlock, the visions (memories) shifting with him. The lady fades again, leaving the empty chair for a split second as the boy looks at it then turns to face John. He's got turbulent curls, pale guarded eyes and John's breath catches for an instant.

Then the boy shifts and morphs, sinking into the real and present Sherlock and John thinks oh.

Not Mummy, John is certain of that. The woman was too old, too obviously frail. Sherlock couldn't have been more than five. A grandmother? Great-grandmother, maybe?

"Why are you doing this?" Sherlock demands and John's eyes fly up. Sherlock's expression is still virtually blank but his jaw is set. John can hear the woman (Ruth)'s voice, soft and breathy and starting to break under the strain as she parrots Moriarty's words. (He's there with her, in the flat, sitting just across from her. He'll leave after this message but he can't resist being this close, hearing Sherlock's voice without the added distortion from the phone tap.)

Sherlock keeps eye contact as Ruth laboriously reconstructs the sentence, Moriarty's high-pitched giggle and the steady breathing of the sniper are distracting her. Then, finally finished, she breathes out an 'ohhh' that is pure mortal terror and Sherlock looks away. For a second, John sees the boy, curled in the big old wheelchair with red, dry eyes, then Sherlock lowers the phone, flicks John an inscrutable look and sets the phone down, turning to look at the television.

John wants to say he's sorry, wants to offer Sherlock a shoulder and a welcoming ear for his child's memory of his (great-grandmother, French, they called her 'Grand-mère P' because Mycroft had a lisp, kept mispronouncing the 'V' and Sherlock stubbornly refused to believe his big brother had made a mistake.).

But he doesn't because Sherlock won't accept either, even if they weren't in public; even if John could explain how he knows.

Sherlock is staring at the clip of Connie Prince again, breathing a little faster and thumb twitching. John looks away, feeling intrusive just by being there, and takes out his phone to call Lestrade.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

This story is making my skin crawl. ... which might sound bad, but isn't meant to. Just what's happening to John is so visceral it's making me physically react. I fear how (or if) you'll ever bring him around to finding peace in this. All of which is to say you're writing a really engaging story that I can't seem to stop thinking about.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

Poor John is having a rough time of it alright. I have a fairly solid idea about how this is going to work out, so fingers crossed.

Thank you so much for reading.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

(Anonymous)
I DON'T HAVE WORDS TO EXPRESS MY JOY, SO HERE'S A GIF


Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

Thanks for reading!

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

Oh. This felt like a punch to the gut. I'm already dreading Ruth's death because you could see in the ep that it actually affected Sherlock a bit and this will be so very much worse. *gnaws on fingernail*

I also really loved ickle Sherlock refusing to believe Mycroft had made a mistake. Really lovely detail.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

Ruth was one of the characters I really liked in the original episode, even not knowing her name so I'm really glad she makes an impression here.

Ickle Sherlock thought Mycroft was the expert on everything. He...didn't react to well to finding out otherwise. [/personal canon]

Thanks for reading!

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

B...baw! D: The case just got personal-like and now it's super sad.

I love how John's power just keeps expanding... he's feeling and seeing Sherlock now. That has to be devastating, for the both of them. It's make it all the worse since we all know what happens. ;3; (Well, until the pool scene now~ :D <3)

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

It was something in the episode that I really liked (even as it broke my heart) was that each of the hostages were people and we felt for them.

Poor John, he's going to be half-crazy by the end of this, I think.

Thanks for reading!

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

aslkdf;hsadhf How does this just keep getting better and better?! I lvoe this so much, it is one of the coolest AUs in this fandom and I am enjoying every minute of it. I love that John just keeps getting more and more overwhelmed, that he's getting glimpses of Sherlock (oh, poor Sherlock, that this is the one he has to lose) and that he's getting feedback from more and more sources, faster and faster. Totally fascinating scenario you've built, and I can't wait to see what happens, when things come to a head for John and he can't take it any more, or Sherlock finally notices, or something's going to happen that is worth John risking being discovered in order to prevent... Really, truly loving this :D

And btw don't apologize for de-anoning! I think the rule is more for fun than SRS BUSINESS and I certainly don't mind being able to find you in the future and read more of your stuff :D

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

I'm really glad you're enjoying it. I'm being very cruel to John but he's getting more and more powerful because he's getting deeper and deeper into danger and the poor boy hasn't figured that out yet. He's getting so close to a breaking point now because he's already making mistakes.

I was hoping to make it the whole way through posting since I get better feedback on full anon-comments but I'm glad I did here, I think. =D

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

(Anonymous)
This is amazing.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 6(/?) [I am clearly not a ninja]

Thank you!

Shadows on the Wall 7(/?)

They have to go to the morgue and John, still caught by that momentary flicker of emotion doesn't think of an excuse for why he should wait outside or go back to the flat until it's too late. There are dozens of bodies in the drawers of the morgue. (Cassie, who just wants her mum and is swearing that she'll never touch the hard stuff again (true)/Shaz who saved ten quid on that beat-up old helmet and bitterly regretting it/Marge who is waiting for her funeral and the chance to pass on the same way she waited stoically for the cancer to kill her.)

"You all right?" Lestrade asks while Sherlock rifles through the official autopsy report.

"Fine," John lies. Lestrade sighs, unconvinced but he's got more on his mind than a beat-up old war relic (Raphael is going to agree to move in with them tomorrow night. His wife, Beth, is going to book them a table at the posh restaurant in Holburn. Lestrade will be ordering their desserts when the call about the explosion comes in-)

John closes his eyes, lets the excess information stream away. He can still hear them but the voices fade into background chatter for a minute. Sherlock's watching him when he opens his eyes again. For a second John thinks Sherlock is going to ask him something, then the orderly comes back to tell them Ms Prince's body is ready. John braces himself and sure enough, Connie starts talking almost before he's in the door.

"I don't see why they couldn't at least have made me up. I look so pale and ugh, it simply isn't right. I should never have trusted Mark with anything." There's more along the same vein but John's listening to what she's saying. "Could barely stand," Muscle spasms. "Such a hard time speaking. I thought George – our sound producer – was going to have a fit. I couldn't breathe for nearly a whole minute." Laryngospasm. "You know, I think it was a heart attack"

It wasn't, John knows that. He looks down at her body and can see where the bacteria is thickest; tiny red points. There's none near the thick gash on her hand. She was gardening, Lestrade said but John has been listening to Connie since last night and her idea of gardening seems to involve her brother doing the hard work and her supervising with a drink at her elbow. (Gardening. Raoul who looked so delightful without his shirt. Such a waste, Connie always thought.)

Sherlock says something about the cut and John turns to look at him. "How long would the bacteria have been incubating?"

"Eight, maybe ten days?" John guesses – she'd stopped being able to hide the spasms four days ago.

Sherlock smirks and John feels slow and stupid as all the pieces slot into place. The wound has to have been inflicted after death. He goes when Sherlock sends him off to investigate the brother, leaving the whispering dead behind. He calls Mrs Hudson to ask if she can find the address for him. He tells her a little about the case and Mrs Hudson is quiet for a moment. "I'll just put the tea on then, shall I?"

"That would be lovely, thank you Mrs Hudson." John smiles. Bloody useful thing, having a former MI6 agent as a landlady.

Mark Prince takes one look at John and insists that his assistant let him in. John follows him into the living room with a growing sense of dread. He nearly fumbles his temporary cover (thank you, Mr Hudson) when the man sits down beside him. There's no visions or anything which is why it takes John several seconds to realise Mark is chatting him up. John hasn't been in this position since his last tour and he's caught completely off-guard.

The blasted cat crawls into his lap again, radiating shame and misery and John has an idea. It's a pretty good idea so of course not only is he proven wrong but Sherlock bloody Holmes had ruled it out before he started talking in the morgue. John thinks for a second of punching Sherlock in the face; that awful house, that poor cat but Sherlock wanted time, wanted to one up the bomber.

It still takes every ounce of self-control not to ask if Sherlock would have been so fucking clever if the hostage didn't remind him of his great-grandmother but Sherlock's following Lestrade into the office and there's nothing John can do but follow.

Shadows on the Wall 8(/?)

It comes flooding back the second he steps inside the door.

Lestrade has been doing background work too, 'useful work' Sherlock calls it. Sherlock explains the evidence in detail, showing the records from his Home Office pal (Susan who owes Sherlock for introducing her to his brother who is going to make her Prime Minister in ten years) and Lestrade sets the official wheels in motion. John thinks of Raoul (Mark didn't love him, never did love the boys his sister brought him but they were so pretty, so kind but he liked them which was why she did it. He loved her first, of course. First and only and poor silly Raoul is going to die in a prison fight a month before the trial, never knowing.)

John stands off to one side of the desk, eyes on the carpet and lets the two experts

"Do stop sulking, John." Sherlock has appropriated Lestrade's laptop and is busily hopping through the encryption hooks on his website. (Only looks like 32-bit password encryption on first pass. Moriarty's computer-literate and has probably already spotted the traps and tracks on the first two levels of encryption. He's going to miss the third.)

"Sulking?" John wants to laugh. "What could I possibly have to sulk about?"

"Your discomfort at being the amorous target of a gay man does make your previous claims about being 'fine' with gay men somewhat less plausible." Sherlock observes and Lestrade heaves a sigh.

"My discomfort, as you so quaintly put it, wasn't because he was gay and you aren't gay so you don't count," John says, ignoring the flash of images and the phantom feel of Sherlock's long, clever fingers on his inner thighs.

"What makes you think so?" Sherlock is tapping away, not looking up and John snorts.

"Well, you might be but, fashion sense aside, I really doubt it." John says before he can catch himself. Lestrade hides his smile by scowling down at the files. Sherlock looks up at John, fingers pausing over the keyboard and his eyes narrow for a second. Then his website comes up and he turns back to typing out the answer. The phone goes immediately and Lestrade and John watch him bring it to his ear.

Ruth cries out for help and Sherlock relaxes (wasn't sure Moriarty would have left her alive. He'd have hunted the man across every continent if he had). John can't; Ruth sounds exhausted, despairing and she's going to do something. Sherlock asks for the address and he's not listening, not paying attention. John feels his heart sink. (She's not alone even now. The sniper is next block over but the man who has been guarding her is still in the room. Ruth hates him, hates him more than she hates the drunk driver that killed her George and she thinks, she thinks it would be worth it-)

John doesn't hear what she says, just the note of panic in Sherlock's voice when he tells her to stop, to be quiet, not to tell him anything. He knows that in the cheap, dingy flat the man is clawing at the door's deadbolt. Too late.

Sherlock goes very still, eyes wide and he calls out once. Then he holds the phone away from his ear. John pushes away from the wall, ignoring Ruth's last viciously satisfied thoughs. "What's happened?"

Sherlock sets the phone down and doesn't look at either of them. Lestrade swears and John puts a hand on the back of Sherlock's chair. He can guess (feel) the echoing, hollow pain already being ruthlessly suppressed and it terrifies him to watch as Sherlock's icy mask descends again.

It's terrifying because now John understands. Sherlock isn't a sociopath; John's met sociopaths before and they were nothing like Sherlock. This is something more horrifying and John understands suddenly why Mycroft is so worried for his brother. Sherlock isn't a sociopath but he's so clever, so passionate about his work that he's trying to make himself a sociopath through sheer force of will.

John bites his lip and takes over getting Sherlock back to Baker Street and out from under Lestrade's feet. His mind races the whole way home. He's going to have to fix this, no question. Sherlock is such a fucking over-achiever; if he decides to be a sociopath for real then there's no way of telling what he'd do and John has so little time left.

The clock is still ticking but time's running out.

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