FIC: Contamination, Epilogue
Feb. 15th, 2011 02:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laurajvSee master post for headers & notes
Two months later, the rain beat down against the windowpanes; John could hear the trickle of a leak. He sipped a hot toddy and looked up at the hiss of Sherlock's indrawn breath.
"Oh, John. I've done it."
"Sorry, done what?"
"I've solved the murder of Katy Green. Ten year old girl, strangled and thrown in a ditch fifteen years ago. One of the cases Irene gave me."
John closed his eyes. He wondered when the ugliness of the world would stop feeling like an assault on his soul; he'd seen enough, and more than enough. He wanted to rage against a world where children were murdered and hot cracked earth was stained with blood; instead, he felt his fingernails bite into his palms. He unclenched his hands and opened his eyes.
Sherlock simply looked at him, still and silent as the grave, and then his mouth quirked up on one side. "There's a man out there who isn't very nice, John," he said, slow and soft, as if John were a wild thing to be coaxed.
John took a long breath and spread his fingers, feeling the deep, deadly calm in his bones, the taste of vengeance in the back of his throat. And yet. He looked up and met Sherlock's eyes squarely. "I'm not a weapon. You can't aim me and pull a trigger."
"Can't I?"
"No." His voice did not waver.
Sherlock stepped closer. "Someone loved Katy Green. Fifteen years, her mother's been waiting, wondering who hurt her baby. Men like that don't stop, John; there will be others. We will find him, and them, and bring them home." Sherlock's voice was hypnotic; John held himself still, his muscles singing lines of tension along his limbs. "Think what he did to Katy, John. His hands around her throat." Sherlock's fingers pressed into John's skin, light as a kiss, sharp as scalpels. "Left her in a ditch, like rubbish." His hands dropped away.
"You don't care about people," John said. He couldn't remember closing his eyes, but he must have; everything was dark. He listened to his heart beating, thump thump, thump thump. He could feel Sherlock's breath on his face -- when had Sherlock come so close?
"No," said Sherlock. "But you do."
John remembered Sherlock, holding a capsule of poison, and the sharp report of gunfire. This was his capsule; Sherlock, ridiculously, impossibly, his murderous cabbie. He opened his eyes, and whatever Sherlock saw in them made him take a measured step backwards, suddenly wary. "Right," John said, and went to his desk to fetch his gun. He tucked it into his waistband, closed the drawer, and without turning, he said, "We will do this as legally as possible, Sherlock. If we can bring him to the police, we will. Is that clear?"
"Of course, John."
He did not have to look behind him to see that Sherlock was smiling.
end.
See End Notes
Epilogue: Toll the bell
Two months later, the rain beat down against the windowpanes; John could hear the trickle of a leak. He sipped a hot toddy and looked up at the hiss of Sherlock's indrawn breath.
"Oh, John. I've done it."
"Sorry, done what?"
"I've solved the murder of Katy Green. Ten year old girl, strangled and thrown in a ditch fifteen years ago. One of the cases Irene gave me."
John closed his eyes. He wondered when the ugliness of the world would stop feeling like an assault on his soul; he'd seen enough, and more than enough. He wanted to rage against a world where children were murdered and hot cracked earth was stained with blood; instead, he felt his fingernails bite into his palms. He unclenched his hands and opened his eyes.
Sherlock simply looked at him, still and silent as the grave, and then his mouth quirked up on one side. "There's a man out there who isn't very nice, John," he said, slow and soft, as if John were a wild thing to be coaxed.
John took a long breath and spread his fingers, feeling the deep, deadly calm in his bones, the taste of vengeance in the back of his throat. And yet. He looked up and met Sherlock's eyes squarely. "I'm not a weapon. You can't aim me and pull a trigger."
"Can't I?"
"No." His voice did not waver.
Sherlock stepped closer. "Someone loved Katy Green. Fifteen years, her mother's been waiting, wondering who hurt her baby. Men like that don't stop, John; there will be others. We will find him, and them, and bring them home." Sherlock's voice was hypnotic; John held himself still, his muscles singing lines of tension along his limbs. "Think what he did to Katy, John. His hands around her throat." Sherlock's fingers pressed into John's skin, light as a kiss, sharp as scalpels. "Left her in a ditch, like rubbish." His hands dropped away.
"You don't care about people," John said. He couldn't remember closing his eyes, but he must have; everything was dark. He listened to his heart beating, thump thump, thump thump. He could feel Sherlock's breath on his face -- when had Sherlock come so close?
"No," said Sherlock. "But you do."
John remembered Sherlock, holding a capsule of poison, and the sharp report of gunfire. This was his capsule; Sherlock, ridiculously, impossibly, his murderous cabbie. He opened his eyes, and whatever Sherlock saw in them made him take a measured step backwards, suddenly wary. "Right," John said, and went to his desk to fetch his gun. He tucked it into his waistband, closed the drawer, and without turning, he said, "We will do this as legally as possible, Sherlock. If we can bring him to the police, we will. Is that clear?"
"Of course, John."
He did not have to look behind him to see that Sherlock was smiling.
end.
See End Notes
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-15 07:49 pm (UTC)I have thoroughly enjoyed this story! So often there's a "project triangle" when it comes to Sherlock fics--out of accurate characterization, realistic crime-fighting, and elegant prose, most stories pick two. (And most fics involving Irene Adler don't even attempt to include any of them.) Yours nailed all three. Thank you for sharing it.
--Hannah
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-15 07:55 pm (UTC)I'm very glad you enjoyed this, & stuck with me through to the end!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-15 08:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-17 07:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-16 01:33 pm (UTC)I think my favorite scene was them laughing and scaring the killer to pieces. They could so easily just start operating as a serial killer couple, all wrapped up in each other like that.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-17 07:39 pm (UTC)