Sherlock fanfic: Palm Sunday

I am but a scholar.  I own nothing, the very least Sherlock.  Sherlock belongs to Moffet, Gatiss, and ACD.  I just borrowed them for a bit.

Notes:  The church in question does exist and is in walking distance to Baker St.  I thought John should get a miracle, since I can not.  I also haven't written in ages and this is probably rubbish, but it was important that I wrote.


Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, weeks into months. John Watson finds time passes without him even thinking about it. He used to measure it in drawn out all night cases, very early morning Chinese food, and the sound of the violin in the wee hours. Now, he tries to forget. Days still pass. Time marches on.

He wakes on a Sunday, not thinking anything of the day, if it had any significance. He has tea with Mrs. Hudson. He reads the paper. Mostly he waits. Nothing happens to him. Not since . . . .

For some reason he finds himself leaving the flat and just walking. He does this more often than not now. Escaping into the sounds of the city, the battlefield that resides in front of him. He doesn't recognize it, but then he doesn't really recognize himself anymore either.

Somehow he ends up attending Palm Sunday Mass at Our Lady of the Rosary. He doesn't believe anymore, not since Afghanistan, and especially not since Sherlock . . . . He manages to stop his thoughts there. He doesn't want to cry here, not now. Not that he has many more tears to shed. He feels all his tears have dried up, but he knows that isn't true.

He follows along, not realizing that the words to some of the responses have changed. “When did that happen,” he thinks to himself. He realizes it doesn't matter; he won't be coming back after this- he doesn't even know how he found himself here. Subconsciously he knows it is because he craves some normalcy, routine, and ritual that has been lacking since that . . . day. Sherlock would laugh at him for his sentiment. He shuts his eyes to try to black out the thoughts of blood on the pavement, focusing on the choirs repetitive and meditative song.

He makes his way up for Communion with the masses, not even thinking about his actions; he wasn't even thinking of going up, he just found himself falling into place. When he comes back to the pew with the stale taste of wafer in his mouth, he finds himself kneeling and praying for one more miracle, for Sherlock to not be dead. He prays that he will do anything just to have his friend back with him. He has to breathe deeply at this point before he suffocates under his endless grief. He sits back in the pew and wipes the tears from his eyes; tears he hadn't realized he had shed. No one notices.

Once the concluding hymn has been sung John practically leaps out of the pew to get out. The cloying incense and flowers are too much for him, his heart is hammering in his chest and he isn't sure why. As he exits the church he makes one farewell glance at Christ on the cross.

Forty minutes later he lets himself back into 221B, tossing his jacket on the couch as he walks in. It takes him a moment to notice what is different in the flat, because until recently, it wasn't different. Sherlock is standing in front of the window, with his violin, and he begins to play Ode to Joy.

And John smiles a real smile for the first time in months and whispers his thanks.



I've spent a week debating whether or not I was going to actually write anything, say anything about my silence or how I feel.  I don't even know if I can describe how I feel.  And I certainly don't want to be writing this on my actual real blog since people in my real life will read it and that includes family and it just isn't necessary for them to have to know.

I feel like I've just watched Wilson's Heart, End of Time, Reichenbach, and Doomsday all for the first time and well really how do you quantify something like that?  How do you even put those feelings into words?  I thought this was supposed to get easier, not harder.

I haven't been to the office in 2 weeks. I haven't done any work- not that I actually have a clue about exactly what I am supposed to be doing.  I haven't gone running.  It's hard enough to breathe right now, never mind actually do anything that isn't reading fanfiction or watching old episodes of Dallas or just existing.  

I wish I felt things normally instead of so intensely.  I probably would be coping a bit better had it not been for post Reichenbach feels + the one year anniversary smothering me like a shock blanket.  It's exhausting, but it wouldn't be me, if I didn't feel this way.
rose 10 doomsday

Mississippi Personhood Amendment

Originally posted by gabrielleabelle at Mississippi Personhood Amendment
Okay, so I don't usually do this, but this is an issue near and dear to me and this is getting very little no attention in the mainstream media.

Mississippi is voting on November 8th on whether to pass Amendment 26, the "Personhood Amendment". This amendment would grant fertilized eggs and fetuses personhood status.

Putting aside the contentious issue of abortion, this would effectively outlaw birth control and criminalize women who have miscarriages. This is not a good thing.

Jackson Women's Health Organization is the only place women can get abortions in the entire state, and they are trying to launch a grassroots movement against this amendment. This doesn't just apply to Mississippi, though, as Personhood USA, the group that introduced this amendment, is trying to introduce identical amendments in all 50 states.

What's more, in Mississippi, this amendment is expected to pass. It even has Mississippi Democrats, including the Attorney General, Jim Hood, backing it.

The reason I'm posting this here is because I made a meager donation to the Jackson Women's Health Organization this morning, and I received a personal email back hours later - on a Sunday - thanking me and noting that I'm one of the first "outside" people to contribute.

So if you sometimes pass on political action because you figure that enough other people will do something to make a difference, make an exception on this one. My RSS reader is near silent on this amendment. I only found out about it through a feminist blog. The mainstream media is not reporting on it.

If there is ever a time to donate or send a letter in protest, this would be it.

What to do?

- Read up on it. Wake Up, Mississippi is the home of the grassroots effort to fight this amendment. Daily Kos also has a thorough story on it.

- If you can afford it, you can donate at the site's link.

- You can contact the Democratic National Committee to see why more of our representatives aren't speaking out against this.

- Like this Facebook page to help spread awareness.


Writer's Block: Anti-bullying month

Who is the biggest bully in your life? One response chosen at random will win an Amazon Kindle. [contest details] (sponsored by )
This is such an interesting question.  I did my Masters research on bullying in schools and was supposed to go on to do my PhD and hopefully will be able to eventually.  Every individual has a story on bullying, whether as victim, bully, or bystander.  Right now in my life it would be my dad, but that hasn't always been the case.  

What is most important is what you do with the experience and how you interpret and deal with it.