Thank you so much for the prompt!! (HUGS) Well, John sort of has a gambling problem here… but it’s probably not what you wanted. Sherlock doesn’t really collect joy.. he’s just bored but I hope you like it anyways!
Warnings: Sort of Dark John, Dark Sherlock, Blood, Violent imagery
- Title – Just Loss
“Don’t drink anything, John. Remember that,” Harry writes to him, lifting the note in the air with a fist. He remembers barely containing his scoff. You’re the drinker Harry, not me. It had been on the tip of his tongue. Bitter and scathing and with the delicious urge to hurt but then he sees bullet covered corpses and raw bleeding eyes and his words are swallowed.
War taught him worse ways to hurt (kill) people (“See, Johnny?” Moran’s arm feels like a hook around his waist as he grins against John’s ear. “It’s as easy as gutting a lamb,” he laughs as they walk over a path of scattered limbs) but put him back in a verbal confrontation and John sees (blood) things he doesn’t want to and he has to (bottles smashing) get away as fast as possible… besides—
He looks at his sister’s sewn lips. The fury and grief mixing in her eyes. Clara’s ribbon crumpled up in her hand. You shouldn’t have tried to buy her back, he wants to say. But who is he to accuse her of anything? To judge her coping mechanisms? Isn’t he equally as fucked up when he can’t handle an honest conversation with his sister and yet he’ll run off to get shot (“and shoot other people, don’t you forget,” not-Moran whispers in his ear)? How fucking messed up is he that his heart beats in anticipation to the thrill of gambling such high stakes? (“They took Clara,” Harry writes frantically, “and they want two lives for one.” And John shivers.)
They say that war changes you. Makes you a different man. John’s afraid sometimes, when he trembles in the night, that the war didn’t change him. It just ripped off the mask of John Watson and revealed a monster underneath.
It doesn’t matter, John thinks as he grabs his cane and joins his impatient sister at the door.
The fae are waiting.
from Tumblr http://ift.tt/1GUH8Vt