Fic: Running 'Round Leaving Scars (Sherlock, John; Gen, PG-13)

[swissmarg]

Title: Running 'Round Leaving Scars
Author: swissmarg
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: John, Sherlock (gen, could be read as pre- or possibly post-slash)
Spoilers: Reichenbach
Word count: 2,968
Summary: Sherlock calls John anonymously when he comes to a crisis point during the hiatus. John isn't too happy when he finds out.
Disclaimer: The universe of Sherlock Holmes was created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The BBC incarnation was created by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. This is a work of fan fiction and makes no claims of ownership or entitlement.
Notes: This is my first fic in this fandom, and the first thing I've written in any fandom in ever so long, so I'm a bit rusty. Kudos to lady_invidia for the Britpicking/beta. All remaining inconsistencies, errors, or Americanisms are mine. The title is from 'Jar of Hearts' by Christina Perri, which is the most perfect post-Reichenbach John/Sherlock song ever. This was inspired by this prompt on the Kink Meme: While Sherlock was dead, John saves a man who was about to kill himself. When Sherlock comes back, he thanks John for saving his life.
Warnings: Mention of suicidal thoughts, language

This fic has been translated into Chinese by morningflowersc (registration required).


"Hi, you've reached Samaritans. I'm glad you've called. My name's John."

There was silence on the other end of the line, but John could hear that the connection was open.

"Hello? Are you there?"

The person on the other end - a man - cleared his throat. When he spoke, though, it was in a whisper.

"Yes. Yes, hello. John."

Yorkshire accent, John's brain automatically supplied. Difficult to determine the age without hearing the timbre of the voice. Couldn't tell much more. Sherlock could have. Not useful to go down that path.

"Hi. How are you?" John asked.

It was another few seconds before the man responded. "I'm feeling rather alone, actually." Again, breath without tone behind it.

Most of their callers were. People with strong social networks didn't tend to call crisis helplines on Christmas Eve. John settled in to the conversation, brought up his standard responses.

"You're not alone now. I'm glad you thought to call. Would it be possible for you to speak up a bit? I'm having difficulty hearing you."

"I can't ... lost my voice."

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Are you ill?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Just my voice."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. Well, what would you like to talk about?"

"Anything. It doesn't matter. Please, just... talk."

"All right. We've ... it's been rather busy tonight. Lots of people calling in. So, you know, you're not the only one wanting some company. I think for most people, it's the holidays. Can be stressful. Family, or... or no family. I don't know if that's the case with you. Do you have family?"

"No." The answer came quickly. An automatic response. Or an untruthful one.

"Ah. Well, I don't... I only have my sister. Parents are gone. My sister and I don't get on that well, so. I guess I'm in the same boat as you. Maybe why I'm here tonight, too. I suppose if I hadn't volunteered to be on this end, I might have called in as well."

"Are you lonely, John?"

John stumbled at the question. Most of their callers didn't even reciprocate the standard 'how are you' opening.

"Lonely? I don't know that I'd ... I mean, there are people who ... friends. Yeah, no. Yeah, I think, mostly, I'm lonely. So, but that's all right. It's fine. You don't need to, you know, be in a room full of people all the time. But sometimes, I'd like to..." John had to remind himself that he was here for the caller. "How about you? You said you felt alone?"

"Yes."

"Yeah. Yeah. But, that's why it's good to know you can just pick up the phone. Call someone. You weren't... I mean, was there something that happened? Some reason? That made you want to call tonight, in particular?"

The man on the other end was quiet. John heard him breathing this time. Irregular. Then a long, slow exhale.

"Are you all right?"

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Do what?"

"This. What I'm doing. What I've been... I thought I could, but..."

An alarm sounded in John's head. He hadn't been working the helpline for long, but he'd got a feel for when people just wanted someone to talk to, and when they were actually thinking of harming themselves.

"Go on. What can't you do?"

"This! God, this feinting and parrying and thrusting, and I'm making mistakes. I never make mistakes! I'm overlooking things and getting slow, and I'm actually... I'm actually frightened that I won't make it back. Or worse, that word will get back and everyone will... that it will all be for nothing."

"I'm not exactly following. Have you taken something?"

"What? You mean drugs? No, you know I stopped." The man sounded irritated, as if it should be obvious.

"Of course," John said, humouring him, although he didn't know.

"And I was thinking, maybe the safest thing would be to..." The man's voice suddenly became very quiet, and John had to strain to hear the throaty whisper. "To follow the original plan."

"I don't know. Would it be?" John asked carefully.

"Yes. It would be." The man huffed out a voiceless laugh. "But I am not a safe person."

"Erm... you're scaring me a bit here."

"I don't mean to." He sighed. "Yes, I know. This must all be confusing for you. I'm sorry. Never mind. I just wanted to hear ... someone. To know someone was there. And there you are."

"I'm here, yes. There will always be someone here when you call. What are you doing tonight then?"

"Staying in."

"May be wise, the way it's coming down. Are you taking care of yourself though? Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Oh. Oh. I mean, do you... I can give you the address of a couple of places... the Salvation Army, or ... I don't know where you live, but there's always a place you can... you know, if you'd like a warm meal."

"I have money. I simply... wasn't hungry."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything."

"It's all right. I can tell you care."

"Yes, that's right. I do care. I care about you."

"You don't know me." It wasn't an accusation. An observation.

"Not personally, no. But, that doesn't mean I can't care. I don't... I don't want to see anyone hurt. I'm a doctor, so. I mean, it's not just that. I had a friend. A very good friend. He... well, I think he must not have understood how many people cared about him. Even people who didn't know him very well. So, I'm here because of him, too. So that no one has to feel the way he did. Even if you don't know it, there are people whose lives you've touched. People who admire you, people who like you. And people, like me, who want to help you. Whatever it is that you need. I may not be able to do more than talk to you. But I hope that helps. I think that's why you called. Because you felt it would help to talk to someone."

"Yes. You have ... most definitely helped me, John."

"I'm glad. Do you have something to do tomorrow? A way to keep busy? Sometimes that helps, too. If you can get out. So you're ... not alone. With your thoughts."

"I do have plans, thank you."

"Good."

"I'll let you go. I know you're busy."

"You don't have to. I have time. There are other people here answering the phones as well. We can talk for as long as you like."

An exhale of silent amusement. "You have to sleep sometime."

John smiled too. "Yeah, well. You know what I mean."

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Well. I'll sleep late. Don't get much chance to do that. Maybe read a book, watch the Dr Who Christmas special. I've been invited to my former landlady's for the afternoon. She doesn't have any family either, but I think there'll be a couple of other friends of hers there as well."

"Sounds boring."

John grinned. "I... to be honest, I don't really want to go."

"You should."

"I know. That's why I'll go."

"You often do things because you're supposed to... I gather."

"I sometimes think that's the only reason I do things anymore."

The other man didn't respond for several seconds. John heard another long exhale. Cigarette smoker, it came to him.

"Still there?" John asked, when the silence stretched out.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry. I don't mean to burden you."

"Don't be stupid."

John felt defensive. "It's not stupid, it's ... I was being unprofessional."

"You were being honest."

"I should be a better listener."

"I don't mind."

"Still, it's not what I'm here for."

"Duty's important to you."

"Yes, I should think so." He considered that that might not have been the most flattering thing to say. "But that's not why I'm talking to you."

"Yes, it is. Your friend. You feel that you failed him," he said in his strange, hoarse whisper. "You're trying to make it up with everyone else."

John felt himself losing control of the conversation once again. "This is supposed to be about you."

"It is."

John got a vague feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach, the beginning of a rush of white noise in his ears.

"Thank you," the man said abruptly. "For everything, John. I had really best be going."

"No," John said too quickly. "We can... as long as you want."

"I have enjoyed talking to you, John. Very much. I hope one day you will know how much you've done for me."

"Call back another time, then. If I'm not here, they can give me a message. I'd like to know... how things work out for you."

"Good-bye, John."

John took the headset off. He only noticed now that his hands were shaking, the sweat prickling in his armpits.

The man never called back.

---

"I don't..." John had both hands around the cardboard coffee cup. He wished they were someplace with real, solid mugs. He wanted to squeeze something. Hard. Preferably without ending up with a lap full of hot liquid.

"John..."

"No. This is... It's my turn now, all right? I understand why you did it. It's not about that. The thing is... The part that really..." He exhaled in frustration. "You didn't trust me. You trusted Mycroft. Who was the one who betrayed you first, by the way. You trusted Molly. Who... And I know you weren't interested in her. But did you really think I was weaker than Molly Hooper?" John's face creased.

Sherlock looked like he wanted to say something, badly. But he held his tongue, because that wasn't really a question.

"You trusted God knows how many of your Irregulars. You trusted Irene Adler, for fuck's sake," John hissed as he leaned forward and looked around, because she was still supposed to be dead. Whatever that meant these days. "Which doesn't actually surprise me, only she did pass on information to Moriarty before, and just because you affected her pulse rate at one time doesn't mean she's not an opportunist."

Sherlock returned John's glare. "Are you quite finished putting words in my mouth?"

"Don't. Don't try to make yourself out to be the noble one here."

"So the thing that bothers you in all this is that you weren't part of it."

"No," John said, his voice trembling despite his best efforts at keeping it evenly measured. "The thing that bothers me in 'all this', is that you decided for me. You assigned me a role in your grand scheme, you decided what part it would be most useful for me to play. You decided how much I could take, how far you could bend me until I broke. And you know what?" He grimaced and looked down. "The worst fucking part is, you were right. You did it all yourself - or at least without me. You went out, and you disassembled Moriarty's network, and you came back, and none of us are dead, either at the hands of Moriarty's goons or our own. So. Congratulations." He sat back and tried to clear his vision.

"John. You're wrong."

John laughed and shook his head. "Of course I am."

"No, stop making out that you know what's going on in my head, or what I was thinking, or doing, or feeling all those months, because you can't possibly-"

"Right, because no mere mortal can possibly fathom the depths of Sherlock Holmes' genius."

Sherlock frowned. "John. You think you didn't help me. I can tell you now, that you were..." He looked around quickly, lowered his voice. "...the one thing - the one thing - that kept me going. You think I was alone out there, that you weren't with me. Well, that isn't true." He waved a hand irritably at the look on John's face. "Don't be pedantic. I tried to do it alone. I tried to put you out of my mind, to concentrate on the work and the pursuit, and keeping one step ahead of them. But I couldn't - something was missing. I was missing something. You made me depend on you," he said fiercely. "I was - very angry about that."

"Good," John said. "Makes two of us."

"Yes, well." Sherlock turned his cup - barely touched, must be cold now - around with his long, pale fingers. "I wasn't sure whether to tell you this. I hope you take it the way it's meant." His glance flickered up to John, then back down. "I called you."

John waited.

"Last Christmas. You were working that ... crisis helpline."

John became very still.

"I was..." Sherlock cocked his head, an unfamiliar series of emotions working their way across his face. "As I said, I was angry. I didn't want to need anyone. But I was stuck, and I was getting sloppy. There were things I was overlooking, things that, had you been with me, probably wouldn't have happened."

"Bit late for that," John muttered.

"The upshot is, I was spotted. I wasn't sure if they'd recognised me, but I couldn't take the chance. If I wasn't able to catch them before they passed on the order to Moran, you'd have - Well, I was seriously considering implementing Moriarty's original plan."

"So you called, what... to leave another note?"

"I'm not sure. Yes, I suppose, that was probably my first impulse. But once I heard your voice, I couldn't - things took a different turn."

"But I don't remember... I mean, I'd know if I'd spoken to you. Did you call and hang up?"

"We actually had quite a long talk." Sherlock smirked. "I was afraid I'd given myself away completely. I ended the call abruptly."

John frowned. "But I don't--"

Sherlock switched to the breathy Yorkshire voice to say, "I had a bit of a problem with my voice," then went back to his normal tone. "You told me about your plans to spend Christmas with Mrs Hudson. How did that turn out, by the way?" Sherlock hitched up his expression of bland interest.

John's jaw clenched as he stared at Sherlock. He looked as if he were struggling with himself over what to say.

Sherlock's facade faltered. "Ah. You remember."

"You smug bastard. I had a feeling... But then I had lots of feelings. I couldn't trust my own instincts. You did that to me. I had to live outside of myself to even - to even function. So. You called me, because you were thinking of offing yourself, and then, what? I told you some flattering things and massaged your ego enough that you got your confidence back so you could swan off and brilliantly outsmart Moriarty's clan?"

Sherlock frowned and focused on his fingers picking at the rim of his cup. "Don't. I couldn't have done any of it without you. I cut myself off when I left. I couldn't allow myself to remember, to feel, because those were distractions, liabilities. You called me a machine, that last day, do you remember?" He flicked an eye up to check John's reaction, then away again when he saw the anger still there. "I thought that's what I had to turn into. A machine can compute and discover the shortest route to a goal, the one with the least risk and the greatest chance of success. But there's one flaw in that reasoning." He pushed his cup away and leaned forward, forcing eye contact with John. "A machine doesn't have a reason to get there. When I talked to you, it brought back to me the reason I was doing it all in the first place. Knowing that you were alive, that you were safe, and that one day I might have the chance, no matter how small, of returning -"

"And what?" John asked, incredulous. "That things would just go back to the way they were? Us dashing around crime scenes, getting our jollies off others' misfortune-"

Sherlock looked affronted at John's supposition of his mindset. "I knew you might... develop other interests. Other friends."

John pressed his lips together, exhaled hard through his nose. "Yes, well, I haven't. I have even fewer interests or friends that I did before. I'm not... I mean, obviously, I survived, and I'm functioning, and my limp hasn't come back, and I have a girlfriend - who you are not going to meet, and I am not going to ruin my relationship with her so that you have an audience for your genius.

"I understand what you did, and I have to be grateful that you did end up saving my life, but I think I've saved yours a few times as well, so perhaps we can just call it even now."

Sherlock looked pained, an unnatural look on him as it was unfeigned. "John-"

"No. Just - No. You hurt me, all right? And then you kept on hurting me, and lying to me, and that's - that's not what friends do. So, I don't know. I wish it were different, and I appreciate you making the effort now, but. It's too late. Or too early, maybe. I'll..." He sighed, hating that he was giving in, even a bit, but it wasn't in his nature to be cruel. "Give me some time, all right? Don't text me or call me at work pretending to be someone else or just generally fuck with me for a while. That - that would be a start at least."

Sherlock nodded. "I'm sorry, John."

John nodded. "Me too." He drained the last of his coffee and stood. "Take care of yourself, Sherlock," he said, tossed his cup in the waste bin, and left.

Sherlock watched John through the window as he crossed the street. His back was straight as a soldier's and his fists were jammed into the pockets of his jacket. He didn't look back.

Comments

[swissmarg]

I also see John and Sherlock having a bond that will remain, no matter what either one of them does or says. That doesn't mean that they will always be on good terms or be happy with each other. So even though John is angry, hurt, and betrayed, he can't deny that Sherlock will always be a part of his life, in some way.

Regarding how they might work things out though, I don't think it's an issue of John having to 'get over' what Sherlock did, or understand it better. The way I see it, Sherlock's justification for his fake suicide was that it was a selfless act to save John. In reality, it was a supremely selfish act because he thought he didn't let his friends in on what was going on. It all comes down to that line in Reichenbach, where Sherlock says, "alone protects me", and John responds, "No, friends protect people". And Sherlock didn't believe that, and still doesn't.

Sorry for going on so long, LOL. I just think that the full onus of any relationship!fail that goes on between John and Sherlock lies with Sherlock. He has to prove himself. John doesn't need to revise his opinions one whit.

[lolofielding.livejournal.com]

And the sad thing is that they're both right. There is no real one to blame. I think calling it 'supremely selfish' is a bit too far because he felt he was PROTECTING them by keeping them in the dark. The 'supremely selfish' thing to do would have been letting Moriarty shoot them dead and not give a crap as long as Sherlock himself was okay. I'd call it more stupid and short-sighted but not selfish because it wasn't something he was doing for his own benefit at all. And for all we know, he probably was right, if he'd told them the truth then maybe it would've failed and they'd have died. Sherlock doesn't believe that 'friends protect him' but at the same time that is exactly what he did for John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade.

But I also don't think it's a matter of John 'getting over it', it's never that simple. I just don't think the key to fixing their relationship is a one-sided thing on Sherlock's part though. They both have to work through issues, understanding and forgiveness or else there would be no hope. Sherlock needs to understand that he needs to start trusting people and not going off on his own and John would appreciate that Sherlock is TRYING to be a good man, a hero, and even though this stunt hurt John - he's still breathing and that's down to Sherlock. There would be nothing special about John being in Sherlock's life in the first place if he wasn't the one person who believed in him and accepted him, flaws and all.

Argh, sorry for rambling, this all still gives me too many Feelings. XD

[swissmarg]

That's a good point, yeah, you're right, the most selfish thing would have been to let everyone get shot, but on the other hand, even that wouldn't have guaranteed that Moriarty would leave Sherlock alone. This way (faking suicide), Sherlock guaranteed that Moriarty would leave Sherlock alone (as well as John, etc.). Or rather his minions would, given that Moriarty himself was dead by then. (And I do believe he is well and truly dead.) I guess I think that Sherlock is the one who needs to take the first step in this case. I also think that John does understand that Sherlock's actions in Reichenbach were out of some twisted sense of noble sacrifice, but that doesn't change the fact of his betrayal and massive lies. I am sooooo anxious about how everything turns out in the next series! They could take it so many different ways, but one thing's for sure, it will be angst-o-rama!

[lolofielding.livejournal.com]

True but I still think his friend's lives were his primary motivation, more so than just saving his own skin (look at the expression on his face when Jim tells him they'll die if he doesn't).

Yeah Sherlock needs to take the first step and find some huge way to make it up to everyone. And while I think John will understand what Sherlock did was to save his life but it will take a while for the anger to subside for it all to sink in. I know how that feels to have someone do something that hurts you (not to the point of making you grieve but still hurtful) and later you realise it was with good intentions and while you can't quite forget the pain it is easier to forgive because you just become tired of being angry and you miss being close to that person so much that the anger just isn't worth it. And John isn't the type to hold a grudge forever - look at how easily he forgave Sherlock for the Baskerville thing (seriously, I'd have killed Sherlock for that alone!).

What I'm hoping for, on the first episode of S3, is about an hour and a quarter of mega angst between them and then some sort of heart-warming resolution that doesn't QUITE fix everything but it starts to pave the way so to speak. And it carries on as a theme for the rest of the series. Just my two cents. :)

[swissmarg]

Oh, no kidding about Baskerville! I couldn't believe that things went on as usual between Sherlock and John after that. I mean, the man gave him psychotropic drugs! If anything, that should have created a huge rift in their relationship, yet by the next morning it was like they were closer than ever. I just really hope they don't have some quick 'oh, I forgive you, I'm so happy you're really alive' thing in the first five minutes and then jump into the next case. The way you describe it sounds better, where they have a hard time reconnecting. I mean, realistically, they have to get back on somewhat good terms rather quickly, because I assume series 3 will also only be 3 episodes long and they can't make the whole thing be about how John and Sherlock aren't talking to each other, LOL.

[lolofielding.livejournal.com]

I know, you'd think Baskerville ending with Sherlock and John falling out would be a nice lead in to Reichenbach. But nope, that ending was pretty much a huge cop out in terms of character. I could only just forgive them for that but if, like you say, they downplay the reaction in S3 and have John instantly forgiving Sherlock (y'know, like Canon!Watson) then I will not be happy. Coz no way would John not have any issues with it. Yeah he would be happy his friend was alive but there'd be so much anger to get over first. I guess 90 minutes would be a good enough amount of time to pace that all out if they bother.

To be honest, it wouldn't be the first time Moffat downplayed the emotions of something so big. Like in the last series of Doctor Who he had Amy and Rory not give a crap that there daughter had been kidnapped. Urgh, don't make that mistake again, Moff.

[swissmarg]

I don't watch Dr Who (although maybe I should), but I really have faith that the first episode of series 3 will be emotional and amazing!

[asahifirsa.livejournal.com]

Sorry to interrupt this conversation, it was really interesting and insightful. There's another way I can see this resolved in the series and that would be John realizing somewhere sometime that Sherlock was actually trying to tell him something with his note, i.e. that it was all a "magic trick". His words at the grave could point to that kind of resolution.

[swissmarg]

Yes, but to me that's the same as John realizing later that Sherlock did it to save him. Even if it was done for noble and good reasons, the fact of the lies and manipulations remain. Sherlock may have hoped that John would piece it together, realize that Sherlock is not dead, and not suffer, but if so, then he might as well have told him in the first place. The whole point of keeping John in the dark was, a) because Sherlock didn't think that John could play-act well enough to convince Moriarty's men that Sherlock was dead, and b) (probably) to keep him safe and not have John go after Sherlock and try to help him. Once John realizes it was a trick before Sherlock returns, he would be going after him, and that would blow the entire cover.

[asahifirsa.livejournal.com]

Hmm, you're making very good points. On the other side even though Sherlock had enough time to plan his faked suicide I'm not sure he anticipated the turn of events. I assume that he might have thought that he can get out of it without having to fake being dead. So he might not have any contingency plans of how to tell John that he's not actually dead while so obviously trying to off himself in a sec by jumping of a roof. What kills this a bit though is Sherlock watching John at the grave. That is really an unacceptable risk to take if John is really watched.

I think b.) weighs in much more heavily here. It's Sherlock idea of keeping John safe. The strange thing is that I'm pretty sure that if John had been in the position Sherlock was, he'd done the same (but probably without the contingency plan of actually surviving). He already offered to kill himself (and Moriarty) once to give Sherlock a chance to live.

Of course Sherlock adds to this by not telling John afterwards that he's still alive. I'm pretty sure John would be able to play-act well enough with the shock from thinking Sherlock's dead still fresh in his mind. So why does Sherlock not contact him in some way? Molly could certainly do the deed.

I don't think John would go after Sherlock if he knew that Lestrade's and Mrs. Hudson's life depends on him staying and playing the part. Being worried sick about Sherlock would only help his act :)

There's so many possibilities how this can play out, which is probably why the fandom exploded and seems to be expanding still :) Makes the wait a bit more bearable, I'd say.

[swissmarg]

I do hope that Sherlock either comes back very soon, or that Molly or someone tells John, and that John doesn't go three years thinking that Sherlock is dead like in the books. The graveyard scene does cut off abruptly, so maybe the first scene of series 3 will have Sherlock running after John. :D

[asahifirsa.livejournal.com]

I've read plenty of post Reichenbach fics these past month, but not a single one had that approach. Would be funny to have it happen.

"Jooooooohn!"

Lol :)

[lolofielding.livejournal.com]

Do you mean; "Don't be dead"? Yeah, I was thinking about this too that maybe on some level John knows but he's not certain. Because that sort of statement is kind of an OOC thing for him to say, if he was sure Sherlock was dead, because he's usually so resolute and that's more something a child would say like; "Please wake up." And so John isn't as much grieving (or he is but in a different sense) but he's going through the same unbearable agony of 'not knowing' as say someone would if someone they loved disappeared without a trace and they have no idea if they're alive or dead, suffering or okay, if they even want to come home etc. That kind of worry can be as sickening as grief.

Bloody hell, do I ramble. :P TL:DR, yeah, I agree.

[asahifirsa.livejournal.com]

Yes, that's what I was referencing to. After all if Irene was able to fool the mighty Sherlock, then it would make sense for John to have a certain paranoia concerning people really being dead, especially considering the circumstances of Sherlock's demise.

I can't imagine it making any sense at all for John unless of course Mycroft found out and told him what happened on the roof and made Sherlock jump. Would still not make sense though... why would Sherlock claim to be a fake still? Moriarty wanted to make him jump, for his friends, not proclaim to his friends that he's a fake.

I'm pretty sure John would have similar thoughts, therefore the "Don't be dead", but as you said he can't be sure and that spark of hope can be a very cruel thing.