Snoozydog



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

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    19 Nov 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    "I attempted to intervene. Unfortunately, I received communication that my efforts were—" he hesitated. "Well, that I was too late."
    "So you just gave up and left him there?" John asked.
    Mycroft studied him for a long, wordless moment. Then he swallowed down the remainder of his drink, opened the top drawer of his desk and withdrew a large brown envelope. He slid it across the desktop.
    "Be my guest," he said. "I have no desire to view the images again, myself." He gave a brief, bloodless smile. "Once was enough."
    John had felt a sick creeping dread as he'd thumbed open the envelope, slid out a small stack of black and white photographs. Oh—oh Jesus it was Sherlock, unmistakable, pale and thin and very, very dead. He rifled through the pictures, unable to look at any one for more than a few seconds. Sherlock's throat had been cut. His body had been tossed carelessly into a shallow grave, an awkward jumble of limbs that had once moved with such easy grace. Discarded, tossed aside, like he was nothing. Like he was no one. He had been half-covered over with dirt in the last photograph. There was dirt in his mouth, his eyes.
    John's hand was shaking, not just trembling but outright shaking as he fumbled the pictures back into the envelope. He threw it back onto the desk, wanting it as far away from him as he could get it. His breath was coming very fast through his nose. Black spots danced in front of his eyes.
    It can't be real, he told himself. You saw him. You saw him.
    "I had the photographs verified, of course," Mycroft said quietly.
    John did not respond, just breathed and breathed and breathed.
    "A year ago," John said, finally, when he stopped feeling like he might list over out of his chair and sprawl, face-first into the expensive carpeting.
    "It has been a significant source of grief for me," Mycroft said, looking down at his empty glass. His expression was distant, contemplative. "So you will, of course, understand my reluctance to believe your somewhat unlikely tale of this evening's events."

  2. Public Bookmark 65

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    It is 1907, and Sherlock Holmes' lover of three years knows him only as a tender of bees, a grower of roses, and a gentle, open companion. But then a letter arrives from Dr. Watson, followed by Dr. Watson himself, and their sleepy Sussex cottage plays host to memories of the past and fears for the future.

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    12 Nov 2017

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    John and Sherlock meet for the first time as old men in Sussex.

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    09 Nov 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    He looked at the man looking at him from across the room. Their eyes met.

    And for a moment, John tasted honey on his tongue.

  4. Public Bookmark 29

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    Sherlock loses his mind. Mycroft loses control. It's 2007, and the Holmes brothers must come to terms with their demons – and each other.

    A prequel to "The Breaking Wheel" and "On the Rack", but can also be read as a freestanding story.

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    25 Oct 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    The thought occurs that he's practically jealous that someone else is trying to take his place. Maybe, sometimes, he likes doing things for Sherlock. Who wouldn't enjoy helping someone and seeing positive results, no matter how scarce those have been? Who is this person suddenly micromanaging his brother's life? A policeman?
    "Hold on, you said you met a detective inspector? Of the Scotland Yard variety? Who then arranged all this? That sounds highly irregular. You're not in a ---- relationship, are you?" Mycroft asks. He has to. Someone has to.
    Sherlock scoffs. "No, I am not his bloody rent-boy, if that's what your dirty mind has just conjured up. He merely thinks I could make a career out of solving crimes. He'll hire me once I'm clean, he says. Well not hire hire, but there might be freelance work out of the Met budget. That's why I needed the test results."

    He's willing to agree to almost anything, as long as it guarantees this is not the last time he sees Sherlock.
    That doesn't appear to be the plan here, but now that Mycroft has admitted to himself how hellish the months and weeks and days of not knowing, of staying back have been, he desperately wants to avoid making any mistake that would push Sherlock away again.

    E: Both. Did he hurt you? Can he still do that?

    MH: Of course he can.

    E: Can he hurt you like that, just by ignoring you?

    MH: He's better at hurting me than anyone, including you.

    E: Good.

    [Video connection terminated by MH]

  5. Public Bookmark 8

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    Somerset is a lovely place for a wedding, but what John hadn't accounted for was the getting everyone there.

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    14 Oct 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    They have loved each other for so long but suddenly the time to do something about it is over.