Fic - I Prefer to Text Addendum
Jun. 29th, 2012 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impulsereaderTitle: I Prefer to Text - Addendum
Author: impulsereader
Gen Sherlock BBC
Length ~ 1100
Summary: John has tried pretty much everything he can think of to stop people texting him that they’re Sherlock Holmes back from the grave and none of it has worked.
Original work here - http://impulsereader.livejournal.com/11532.html - this really won’t make much sense if you haven’t read that - ~3500 words.
So,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jobia, who I had connected with previously over Welcome to London and our shared fill for the nearly-drowned John prompt (her artwork is amazing - hop over to her journal and check it out) - recently stumbled across my story I Prefer to Text. She very kindly said, “arghleflah - This is such a good fic that I almost want to demand a continuation (does john figure it out??? what happens when sherlock comes back???) but I think I might be satisfied if I give it a moment.”
Well, I happened to be online and feedback makes me giddy, also arghleflah is a great motivator, so I replied back that I’d think on it. And then - she offered me an art fill if I did - and consequently learned just how nutty I am about art - mostly because I cannot produce any visual art of any kind. So I geeked out on her completely, and here is the result.
--------
Sherlock has a problem; well, a new one.
The giddy wave of triumph and relief he has been riding since he took down Moran is beginning to fade, and he is becoming uncomfortably aware that going home isn’t going to be as simple as he might like it to be. In fact, he is beginning to realize that it actually may be significantly more difficult than taking apart Moriarty’s syndicate had been. After all, it is not simply his own; or even John, Mrs Hudson, and Lestrade’s, physical well-being which is in question now. It is, primarily, John’s mental well-being which must be taken into account.
It would, after all, be more than a bit not good to simply walk into the flat and expect to be welcomed back with open arms. Even Sherlock knows that much. His friend has been put through a considerable amount of grief, pain, and inconvenience due to his actions, and this must be taken into account.
So Sherlock sets himself the puzzle: How best to ease John into a new reality which once again contains a living Sherlock?
As usual, he finds that consulting John on important matters is undeniably the best course of action.
*I have news, and it is rather startling. How would it be best to break it to you?*
*What the hell are you on about now?*
*John, honestly, I stated it flat out. Do pay attention.*
John reads the original text again, just to be safe.
*Since you communicate with me solely through text messages, it would very likely be best to text me your news, no matter how startling.*
Sherlock considers this seriously.
*I don’t think you’ll believe me.*
*Do you honestly think I’ve believed, or even understood, any of the messages you’ve sent me? You still haven’t told me what ‘another one down’ means, and 90% of the time that’s all you send.*
Sherlock considers this seriously as well. John is right, and he deserves to be told the truth, as always.
*It refers to my taking out another of Moriarty’s operatives.*
John nearly throws his phone at the wall. Bloody Moriarty and his bloody nutter! Christ! If there was anything about his nutter that he actually enjoyed it was that he didn’t natter on about fucking Moriarty like all the rest of the fake Sherlocks! It was always ‘Moriarty this, Moriarty that’ with that lot!
*Stop being fucking boring.*
Sherlock blinks in surprise. Tentatively, he responds.
*I assure you, it has been unpleasant, but not boring.*
*NO STOP BEING BORING MORIARTY IS BORING*
Sherlock blinks again because Moriarty had most certainly not been boring. He had been many things, but boring was very definitely not one of them. He finds he is unsure how to proceed.
*I am unsure how to proceed.*
*I can’t believe I’m still engaging in this conversation. Look, do you have a point at all?*
Sherlock is annoyed that John is ignoring the fact that he had quite clearly stated his point at the very beginning.
*I am still attempting to ascertain the best way to give you my news. You are not being very helpful.*
“I’m not being - ,” John throws up his hands in frustration and loudly informs the living room at large, “My nutter doesn’t think I’m being helpful! Can you imagine that?!”
*What the bloody hell do you want me to say? Won’t you step round for tea? You’re a nutter who sends me incoherent text messages on a regular basis!*
Sherlock is offended.
*None of my messages have been incoherent.*
“Oh! For the love of -,” John shouts at his phone, “You’re a nutter! You’re an entire fruit cake! That is so not the point, you complete and utter loon!”
He seriously considers switching his phone off.
Sherlock is beginning to feel apprehensive. Consulting John has always proven to be effective before, but he’s not sure he’s getting his message across in this case, and it really is the most important matter on which he has ever needed a consult and – well – Sherlock is now feeling very apprehensive on his end of this conversation.
After some significant time spent taking deep breaths, he does not.
*Just text it to me, all right? Text your news and then we can move on.*
Sherlock hesitates.
*I don’t want you to be upset.*
John has a small breakdown.
*You’re pretending to be my best friend back from the grave – but you DON’T WANT TO UPSET ME??!!!!!*
Sherlock twitches and anxiously taps his finger against The John Phone. This isn’t going at all the way he’d hoped. He takes a deep breath and paces for a few moments, thinking. He decides he should regroup and simplify the conversation; things had rather gone off the rails when he had been baited into elaborating about Moriarty, and he needs to bring the focus back to his actual point.
*I need you to pull yourself together and believe me. This is very important.*
On his end, John eyes this message warily and wonders again if he should simply switch his phone off. He flashes back for just a second to the concern which had driven him to text Mycroft about his nutter. He takes a few more deep breaths.
*Fine. Pulled together. Believing the nutter because I too am insane.*
Now what? Sherlock isn’t sure. He isn’t good at this sort of thing, he knows that; this sort of thing is why he has John, but John won’t, or perhaps can’t in this case, help him. Well, all he can do is try.
*I have not lied to you John, not since I began texting you from this number.*
John stares at this message for a very long time, because something inside him is beginning to get a really odd sort of feeling about this conversation.
He types out – So you’ve lied to me in person? – but then deletes the words.
He makes himself a cup of tea.
He thinks about Sherlock lying to him from a rooftop.
As he sips his tea, John stares at his phone.
When his cup is empty he stares at it some more.
He realizes he is afraid of it.
Shit.
He is afraid of his phone.
Bugger.
It chimes.
Fuck, in fact.
Yes, definitely – definitely – fuck, he decides.
Because, well, fuck.
Fuck.
He makes another cup of tea.
He considers inventing a new curse word with a stronger connotation than fuck.
He drinks the tea.
He tries to shore up his courage by reminding himself (the ghost of Sherlock’s voice in his head) that he invaded Afghanistan; certainly that had been scarier than reading the new text on his phone? There had been bombs and people shooting at him, after all.
Finally, he manages to pick it up and press the button.
*John?*
And he can feel the emotion and raw uncertainty behind his name on that screen and the knowledge that he is talking to Sherlock, the actual Sherlock, his friend Sherlock, and that he has been this entire time, slams into him like a freight train.
It is a long time before he regains the capacity for coherent thought.
It is a very good thing that Mrs Hudson happens to be out.
The flat will never be the same, really.
*Come home NOW you complete and utter bastard*
Sherlock lets out a breath he has been holding for a very long time, and is surprised to find that it comes out as a sob, and that he is crying.
*I am sorry*
*Just come home*
*I will i am so sorry*
*No now right now stop this bloody texting and go to whatever bloody airport is nearest and come bloody home NOW so I can shout at you properly you wanker*
Yes, consulting John has always proven to be the very best course of action.
Author: impulsereader
Gen Sherlock BBC
Length ~ 1100
Summary: John has tried pretty much everything he can think of to stop people texting him that they’re Sherlock Holmes back from the grave and none of it has worked.
Original work here - http://impulsereader.livejournal.com/11532.html - this really won’t make much sense if you haven’t read that - ~3500 words.
So,
jobia, who I had connected with previously over Welcome to London and our shared fill for the nearly-drowned John prompt (her artwork is amazing - hop over to her journal and check it out) - recently stumbled across my story I Prefer to Text. She very kindly said, “arghleflah - This is such a good fic that I almost want to demand a continuation (does john figure it out??? what happens when sherlock comes back???) but I think I might be satisfied if I give it a moment.”Well, I happened to be online and feedback makes me giddy, also arghleflah is a great motivator, so I replied back that I’d think on it. And then - she offered me an art fill if I did - and consequently learned just how nutty I am about art - mostly because I cannot produce any visual art of any kind. So I geeked out on her completely, and here is the result.
--------
Sherlock has a problem; well, a new one.
The giddy wave of triumph and relief he has been riding since he took down Moran is beginning to fade, and he is becoming uncomfortably aware that going home isn’t going to be as simple as he might like it to be. In fact, he is beginning to realize that it actually may be significantly more difficult than taking apart Moriarty’s syndicate had been. After all, it is not simply his own; or even John, Mrs Hudson, and Lestrade’s, physical well-being which is in question now. It is, primarily, John’s mental well-being which must be taken into account.
It would, after all, be more than a bit not good to simply walk into the flat and expect to be welcomed back with open arms. Even Sherlock knows that much. His friend has been put through a considerable amount of grief, pain, and inconvenience due to his actions, and this must be taken into account.
So Sherlock sets himself the puzzle: How best to ease John into a new reality which once again contains a living Sherlock?
As usual, he finds that consulting John on important matters is undeniably the best course of action.
*I have news, and it is rather startling. How would it be best to break it to you?*
*What the hell are you on about now?*
*John, honestly, I stated it flat out. Do pay attention.*
John reads the original text again, just to be safe.
*Since you communicate with me solely through text messages, it would very likely be best to text me your news, no matter how startling.*
Sherlock considers this seriously.
*I don’t think you’ll believe me.*
*Do you honestly think I’ve believed, or even understood, any of the messages you’ve sent me? You still haven’t told me what ‘another one down’ means, and 90% of the time that’s all you send.*
Sherlock considers this seriously as well. John is right, and he deserves to be told the truth, as always.
*It refers to my taking out another of Moriarty’s operatives.*
John nearly throws his phone at the wall. Bloody Moriarty and his bloody nutter! Christ! If there was anything about his nutter that he actually enjoyed it was that he didn’t natter on about fucking Moriarty like all the rest of the fake Sherlocks! It was always ‘Moriarty this, Moriarty that’ with that lot!
*Stop being fucking boring.*
Sherlock blinks in surprise. Tentatively, he responds.
*I assure you, it has been unpleasant, but not boring.*
*NO STOP BEING BORING MORIARTY IS BORING*
Sherlock blinks again because Moriarty had most certainly not been boring. He had been many things, but boring was very definitely not one of them. He finds he is unsure how to proceed.
*I am unsure how to proceed.*
*I can’t believe I’m still engaging in this conversation. Look, do you have a point at all?*
Sherlock is annoyed that John is ignoring the fact that he had quite clearly stated his point at the very beginning.
*I am still attempting to ascertain the best way to give you my news. You are not being very helpful.*
“I’m not being - ,” John throws up his hands in frustration and loudly informs the living room at large, “My nutter doesn’t think I’m being helpful! Can you imagine that?!”
*What the bloody hell do you want me to say? Won’t you step round for tea? You’re a nutter who sends me incoherent text messages on a regular basis!*
Sherlock is offended.
*None of my messages have been incoherent.*
“Oh! For the love of -,” John shouts at his phone, “You’re a nutter! You’re an entire fruit cake! That is so not the point, you complete and utter loon!”
He seriously considers switching his phone off.
Sherlock is beginning to feel apprehensive. Consulting John has always proven to be effective before, but he’s not sure he’s getting his message across in this case, and it really is the most important matter on which he has ever needed a consult and – well – Sherlock is now feeling very apprehensive on his end of this conversation.
After some significant time spent taking deep breaths, he does not.
*Just text it to me, all right? Text your news and then we can move on.*
Sherlock hesitates.
*I don’t want you to be upset.*
John has a small breakdown.
*You’re pretending to be my best friend back from the grave – but you DON’T WANT TO UPSET ME??!!!!!*
Sherlock twitches and anxiously taps his finger against The John Phone. This isn’t going at all the way he’d hoped. He takes a deep breath and paces for a few moments, thinking. He decides he should regroup and simplify the conversation; things had rather gone off the rails when he had been baited into elaborating about Moriarty, and he needs to bring the focus back to his actual point.
*I need you to pull yourself together and believe me. This is very important.*
On his end, John eyes this message warily and wonders again if he should simply switch his phone off. He flashes back for just a second to the concern which had driven him to text Mycroft about his nutter. He takes a few more deep breaths.
*Fine. Pulled together. Believing the nutter because I too am insane.*
Now what? Sherlock isn’t sure. He isn’t good at this sort of thing, he knows that; this sort of thing is why he has John, but John won’t, or perhaps can’t in this case, help him. Well, all he can do is try.
*I have not lied to you John, not since I began texting you from this number.*
John stares at this message for a very long time, because something inside him is beginning to get a really odd sort of feeling about this conversation.
He types out – So you’ve lied to me in person? – but then deletes the words.
He makes himself a cup of tea.
He thinks about Sherlock lying to him from a rooftop.
As he sips his tea, John stares at his phone.
When his cup is empty he stares at it some more.
He realizes he is afraid of it.
Shit.
He is afraid of his phone.
Bugger.
It chimes.
Fuck, in fact.
Yes, definitely – definitely – fuck, he decides.
Because, well, fuck.
Fuck.
He makes another cup of tea.
He considers inventing a new curse word with a stronger connotation than fuck.
He drinks the tea.
He tries to shore up his courage by reminding himself (the ghost of Sherlock’s voice in his head) that he invaded Afghanistan; certainly that had been scarier than reading the new text on his phone? There had been bombs and people shooting at him, after all.
Finally, he manages to pick it up and press the button.
*John?*
And he can feel the emotion and raw uncertainty behind his name on that screen and the knowledge that he is talking to Sherlock, the actual Sherlock, his friend Sherlock, and that he has been this entire time, slams into him like a freight train.
It is a long time before he regains the capacity for coherent thought.
It is a very good thing that Mrs Hudson happens to be out.
The flat will never be the same, really.
*Come home NOW you complete and utter bastard*
Sherlock lets out a breath he has been holding for a very long time, and is surprised to find that it comes out as a sob, and that he is crying.
*I am sorry*
*Just come home*
*I will i am so sorry*
*No now right now stop this bloody texting and go to whatever bloody airport is nearest and come bloody home NOW so I can shout at you properly you wanker*
Yes, consulting John has always proven to be the very best course of action.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-30 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-06-30 10:48 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-06-30 11:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-01 12:09 am (UTC)This
Date: 2012-07-01 06:16 pm (UTC)Excellent ending, and while I don't have time to do that artfill right away I'll put together some thumbnails and send you those right away!
Re: This
Date: 2012-07-01 06:23 pm (UTC)I look forward to seeing whatever you send. I'm sure it will prove fantastic!
Have fun babysitting!
Re: This
Date: 2012-07-01 07:30 pm (UTC)Notes:
-The painting portion will be taller so I can haz more branches at the top.
-There will not be multiple snakes, I'm just messing around as to where to put it.
- Top will be paintier, of course, without as much outlines as it has. Like this but better 'cause I've improved since then.
-Just so you know, holy wow for someone who claims to have no art sense, you probably have the best art-describing ability (if that makes sense) that I've ever seen written except for on maybe one other occasion. I'm not even gushing, but I've done requests before and I've read lots of artist!Sherlock fics and I tend to take special note of what the paintings look like in my head. Lots have no sense of color or composition described, but you and your autumns + red shirt and your oak tree and your snake and your facial description are just making me mad that I have to wait so long to draw this better lol.
I'm a little late now cause I had to add that ramble, so gotta go gotta go!!
Re: This
Date: 2012-07-01 11:59 pm (UTC)*dances around - quite literally - with glee*
I can't even express properly how awesome you and your work are. There are no words. Absolutely none.
*blushes* And thank you again. I'm glad it translates out of my head, through the typing and onto your page. It completely amazes me that together we accomplished that. Look! We each made art! How amazing is art! I love art!
no subject
Date: 2012-07-01 11:30 pm (UTC)This is going to be my personal headcanon, from now on.
Maybe you should post it all in one post (I mean, the addendum added to the earlier text in one go?).
no subject
Date: 2012-07-01 11:52 pm (UTC)I could post it all as one, I suppose. Hm. I'm still a little befuddled by the speed of it all. I had the request pretty late at night, then wrote all the next day and posted it the same evening. I've actually just changed the last line - for the third time - so I think I rushed the whole thing a bit, honestly. I probably should have given it another little bit of time to settle.
Oh, hang on, that's the idea, I'll make it all one piece in a doc, let it stew for a bit, then go through it all as a whole. *nods* Good idea! Thanks again!
Do you do regular recs? As it sounds like you do, I'll hop over and check them out. I'm always looking for recs...
no subject
Date: 2012-07-01 11:57 pm (UTC)There's a huge sticky post at the top of my journal with all the accumulated Sherlock recs, and then I do regular updates with new ones. Once you have it all posted in one place (if you decide to do that) please do let me know, and I'll link to that post. Because this is just marvelous and I want to share it with my flist.
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Date: 2012-07-02 12:01 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-07-03 03:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-04 05:51 pm (UTC)*I have not lied to you John, not since I began texting you from this number.*
Brilliant—just brilliant. The text is just indirect enough to make John sit and think through it and give the truth a little time to sink in.
no subject
Date: 2012-07-04 08:34 pm (UTC)Thank you very much for your lovely comments! I'm all giddy now!
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Date: 2012-07-04 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-04 11:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-05 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-07-05 01:54 am (UTC)