Nightwatch

[chocolamousse]

Title: Nightwatch
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Category: Romance
Rating: PG-13
Beta: The adorable verityburns
Word count: 273
Translation into Chinese available here (thank you, Lowtension!), into Czech available here (thank you, miamam!) and into Russian available here and here (thank you, Little_Unicorn!).
Summary: 221B Baker Street, a bedroom, at night. Before the Fall.



The room is quiet. I hear only John's breath. I see his chest rise and fall steadily. It’s so soothing. I watch his sleepy face in the shadowy light, endlessly, and though I know it by heart it's not boring at all. If I close my eyes I still see it.

I observe the way his eyelids and his lips sometimes quiver. Maybe he's dreaming. Happy dreams, I hope. He has no nightmares when I'm with him. Two nights ago his eyes suddenly opened, he stared at me and I stopped breathing. After a few seconds he gave me a slight smile and closed his eyes again. He hadn't really woken up.

He shifts a little in the bed and his hand settles next to my face. I fix my gaze on it, as if mesmerised. I come near, until my mouth brushes against it. I close my eyes. I can feel the warmth of his skin on my lips. Something breaks inside me. Oh God, this is enough.

I stand up slowly and, as I do every night, I smooth the blanket out to efface any trace. He wouldn't notice anyway. A last look and I leave John's room as silently as I came in, about an hour ago. I go back to my room.

I wonder what he would say if he knew. I wonder if, one day, he'll wake up and find me there, next to his bed, in my dressing gown, my legs tucked to the side, my head resting on my arms folded on the cover, watching, watching over him. I'm afraid he will.

I hope he will.




Author's note: Are you in the mood for angsting? With my customary quick-wittedness I realised after writing it that if you skip in my dressing gown and I go back to my room, lo and behold, it's now a very sad post-Reichenbach story. Sherlock comes back to 221B every night to spend some moments next to John who's sleeping. When John woke up two days ago he felt perfectly happy for a few seconds, because he remembered seeing Sherlock, then he remembered Sherlock was dead and... Right. I definitely recommend the pre-Reichenbach version.

It's my first fic and I wrote it for verityburns' birthday, some months ago. Many, many thanks to her and to the lovely arianedevere; without their kindness and their encouragement and their kicks in the pants I'd probably never have written, let alone posted, anything. I owe you!


There is a prequel now, The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of, and a sequel, Awakening.

There is also a podfic, by the wonderful verityburns.

Comments

[atlinmerrick.livejournal.com]

There's a very good sort of pain, an ache in the tummy, that you get when a story is perfect, sad, tender, and could be no other way.

This story gives me that lovely pain because in so few words you've told me nearly everything I need to know to care deeply, to feel Sherlock's longing, to, as Verity said, to make me hold my breath.

What's funny is just as I began to read my husband asked if the music he was about to put on would bother me, and usually the answer is yes, but the moment I began the first sentence I was deaf to everything else.

Chocola, you have a gift. Read your own story again. And again. Do you feel the mood you've made? Do you see how elegant the imagery? This is just the beginning I hope, the start of a long, long writing career.

I read your LJ bio just before this, where you basically wax rhapsodic that the reason you are here is because of Sherlock. I hope you continue to honor that and gift us with so much more fiction because if this is what you write when still full of doubt, good god what will you accomplish when you feel strong and bold and proud?

I can't wait to see.

[chocolamousse.livejournal.com]

You write the most amazing fics and the most amazing comments. I read this one twice and it's very possible that I'll read it again after posting this answer, because I'm that vain. Thank you so much for these very lovely words, I'm so glad someone whose stories I love so much loves my story too.

Some days ago I was re-reading passages of Given in Evidence (because you can't read good literature too much :D) and having a look at the comments, and in chapter 16 I came across a comment from you, saying to Verity about me, "Why does this woman not write all day every day. We would be laughing our lovely little guts out." And I thought, "Oh my God she will be sooo disappointed if she reads Nightwatch!" Because it's not really a "laughing-our-lovely-little-guts"-inducing fic. But it could be worse, you know. I could write hilarious fics and angsty comments. :D But you're not disappointed and I'm delighted. Also, I demand that from now on you send comments in which you call me Magnificent Chocolamousse to ME and not to Verity! :D

Thank you again for your kindness and your encouragement. I wrote two other fics actually, and I'll post them very soon. By the way, thank you for your advice about our_bbcsherlock, I'll post there too. And thank you for friending me! :-)

[atlinmerrick.livejournal.com]

Dear Magnificent Chocolamousse,

Fortunately for us you are many things. In comments you are a bright ray of giggle-inducing sunshine. You never disappoint.

And as a fic writer you're not angsty so much as heart-felt. You so smoothly get right to the beating heart of the story and though it's sad, in this one, there's hope.

I read this just now, again. Yes, there's hope. There's definitely hope.

[chocolamousse.livejournal.com]

Ooooh yes, there's hope, you're so right! There's even a happy ending, I didn't write it but it is always understood if I write the story. One day, very soon, John will wake up, for real this time, he'll really see Sherlock, he'll reach out aaaaand there will be kisses and confessions and cuddles and amazing sex, the end. And John will never, never deceive Sherlock. *coughs* Also, thank you. :-)