Possibilities 21/24
Things between John and Sherlock had been very…tentative, to say the least. As much as John wanted to rush straight in to resuming their previous relationship, he thought they both knew that wasn’t entirely possible. It had been a huge breach of trust for Sherlock to not let him in, when he could have helped, when he could have been right there with him. These were the things that remain unspoken, that cause the tension in the flat to rise.
Possibilities 20/24
“He has returned home, Sherlock.” Mycroft’s voice echoed from the other end of the phone. Sherlock nearly dropped the phone.
“Thank you, Mycroft.”
smallishgirleh asked: Your art done on the ipad. Lucy walking into Narnia. :)
It was all she had left, just this one drawing. The childlike strokes reflected a much earlier time, a simpler time. A time when Susan wasn’t alone. Narnia. Just the word sent shivers down her spine. She desperately wished that she hadn’t snubbed her nose at Lucy’s insistence that they reminisce about that time so long ago.
Now, she was alone. She had chosen to stay in America with some cousins rather than return to England. There had been a railway accident, and everyone she loved had been killed. Her mother. Her father. Lucy. Edmund. Peter. Even Eustace. And that nice girl Jill that often came around.
At first, she had felt shock. She spent several days wondering if she was in some sort of dream. It couldn’t actually be true, could it? Could she really be utterly and completely alone? Now all of her girlish desires seemed so ridiculous, silly, and unimportant. Who cared about boys and makeup and being popular when her family was just gone?
She looked over the drawing. It was very simple, with thick lines outlining the girl in the picture. It was Lucy, of course. She stood in what was very obviously a snowy wood, illuminated by only the single lamppost she had her arm around. The light was an orange hue, warm and comforting. Lucy’s hair had been so very short back then, with barrettes and bobby socks.
Susan longed for those days. Not just the days of childhood, but their time in Narnia.
That time had been a war of a different type. Not a war within herself, struggling to survive. The war that took her father away, and distracted both Peter and Edward in their desire to do something to contribute. They had been sent away to the Professor’s house in the British countryside. It had been difficult. Lucy, especially, was prone to deep bouts of homesickness. Susan had tried to be a motherly figure, to comfort the younger ones. She had been worried about Lucy after a game of hide and go seek. She was afraid of what had happened to Lucy. She had considered writing to Mother, about questioning Lucy’s sanity. It would have been one thing had actual time passed between the time they began looking for Lucy and the time she had returned. But no time had passed. And yet, she emerged from the wardrobe with a story of a faun – a faun! Could you imagine anything so ridiculous?
And yet – it had all been true. Just days later, they attempted to keep out of Mrs. Mcreavy’s way and had all ended up in the wardrobe. They had all found a passage to Narnia. What had transpired after that was life-changing.
They had fought a war.
They had bested a witch.
Aslan had made them kings and queens over Narnia.
They had ruled for many years as such.
One day, they had encountered a vaguely familiar lamppost, traveled back through the wardrobe and had found that little to no time had passed. They were children again. It was jarring.
In the days that followed, Lucy and Edmund had enjoyed reminiscing about Narnia often. Peter indulged them; Susan did not. It was too difficult. She had enjoyed Narnia just as much as the rest of them. Perhaps more. It was where she learned to shoot a bow and arrow. It was where her love of animal welfare had begun. But she could never go back – she was forever stuck in this world. So she had refused to indulge in Lucy’s reminiscing. It broke her heart too much.
Now she wished she had. She wished that she had spent more time with her sister and brothers. She wished that she could go back in time. She wished that she could bring them back.
More than anything, she didn’t want to be alone anymore.
Her heart was broken.
“I’m so sorry,” she said to no one in particular. God, Aslan, whoever – someone had to be listening, right? She had taken everyone, everything for granted. “If there’s anyone listening, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be alone anymore…I can’t be alone.” Tears stained her pillow. Her heart fluttered and she could have sworn she heard a lion’s roar in her ears as she drifted off to sleep.
Possibilities 19/24
Chapter nineteen
Thankfully, Sarah had understood when John had asked for a few weeks off. He knew she would; she had always been so understanding and accommodating. He was grateful to still have her as a friend after the kidnapping incident. He was also grateful that she hadn’t tried for more of a relationship. But, after all, she had been fairly clued in to the idea of him and Sherlock. Though she hadn’t really understood their relationship (few did, to be honest), she knew that she would always be the second choice, even now that Sherlock was…gone.
Possibilities 18/24
Molly Hooper was tired. It had been a long day at St. Bart’s hospital. She was grateful for the silence. It was calm, it was peaceful. She sighed as she closed out the final file of the day. It had been a young woman, in her early 20s, not much older than Molly herself. Those were always the most difficult — those who were young, with much of their lives still left waiting to be lived. Whether it was a child or young adult, it was still difficult to think about. She was so engrossed in this thought that she didn’t hear the door open, didn’t see the hooded figure until he was standing right in front of her.
Possibilities 17/24
John had stopped in his tracks, stunned into silence the first time he’d seen it. It had been just a month since Sherlock had jumped. He had been on his way home from the surgery when the yellow paint caught his eye.
“I believe in Sherlock Holmes,” it had said, sprayed across an alley wall. Grief had pierced his heart, still so very fresh, but there was something new there, too. Hope. Solidarity. He had a difficult time putting his finger on what it was exactly. But knowing that there was someone out there in the world, who had believed exactly as he did…. well, it was a comfort.
Possibilities 16/24
Sometime in the middle of the night, John Watson had sat upright in his bed. He felt groggy. It was a shock to be here, and he wasn’t even sure how he had gotten here in the first place. He and Sherlock had shared a bed for months now, so why wasn’t he in their bed? And where was Sherlock? Had they had a fight? Had Sherlock gone off on his own (for a case, no doubt)?
Possibilities 15/24
Sherlock Holmes should, by all estimations, be terrified. The man who had destroyed his life, who had set him up as a fraud, who had threatened his life and his partner’s life more than once, was waiting atop the roof of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. He was there to meet Sherlock. He was there to solve this final problem of theirs.
About me
This is a writing blog. I write fanfic, short stories, poetry as well as full length novels. This blog will also be used for book reviews.
