dragonfly36

Sherlock found himself sitting on the sofa in his dressing-gown trying to find an explanation for the warmth he kept feeling in his chest. After all his Google search results told him that he most certainly had a heart condition, he decided to change his angle.  Then after changing his angle another five times he finally found a blog, it was well written and nice to read, unlike John's, Sherlock thought to himself. Although the information that this blog contained was very far from nice, it seemed to describe all of his symptoms perfectly. All of the symptoms of being in love. Love. Or he'd been drugged, but he would have noticed that.

Sherlock walked up the stairs to 221B after bidding his farewells to Molly at the door. The Chinese takeaway they had planned on visiting was closed so Molly just dropped Sherlock back at the flat and went home. Sherlock pushed the door open and made a face as he saw his brother sitting in his chair, fiddling with his umbrella. "What?" Sherlock spat as he walked into his flat. "That's no way to speak to your brother." Mycroft sighed in his normal tone. "Oh I'm sorry, how are you brother dear, how lovely to see you?!" Sherlock asked sarcastically with a badly put on smile and warm tone. "Fine, thank you." Mycroft smiled sourly. "But I'

Sherlock sat in his chair wrapped in his bed sheets, nursing a cup of hot sweet tea. Molly sat in John's Chair with a book on her lap, she was sitting upright and had her legs crossed where as Sherlock was hunched over with his legs drown up to his chest. To put it simply Sherlock Holmes felt like shit and wasn't very happy about it. He could feel something in his head that he had never felt before, like a new voice, a new part of him. He didn't like it. All his senses were out, not making any sense to him and constantly changing. Molly shifted in her seat and looked up at Sherlock. "There are laws we have to follow now Sherlock." She

Sometimes I feel like drowning, no more air, Falling through the dept's of my soul with nothing but a flash light, Still, I cannot find myself. The light aluminates only the objects which I do not wish to see, My past horrors and forgotten truths that are hidden almost beyond reach, Yet still I see them, not hidden at all. And I realise that if I am to truly fine me, I must stop hiding, I must accept past mistakes and actions for part of who I am, Stop hiding behind this charades of false smiles and held back tears. Because to truly fine myself I my embrace every part of me, Be that the scars on my arms or the voice in my head. And now I

Sherlock stared at the scar, for the first time in a long time he was speechless. "What is it that you say Sherlock, when you eliminate impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Molly said to Sherlock as she began buttoning up her shirt. "I presume that is why you and Tom broke off the engagement."  Sherlock asked, finally getting out some words. "One of the reasons." Molly said and looked at Sherlock, for the first time ever Molly saw true fear in Sherlock's eyes. She gave him the best reassuring look she could. "What do I tell John?" Sherlock asked and for a second lost his balance, almost falling off hi

"Vampires?" Donavon mocked in her 'bitch you crazy' voice. "Yes dear, vampires." Iris retorted and unbuttoned her onesie and then pulled it off, revelling her normal clothes. "Saying that it is in fact vampires, how do you know?" Lestrade asked. "This text 'we have your uncle, we warned you what would happen if you let hunters in." Iris said, holding up her phone with the text on it and putting the samurai sword on her bed."The only monsters that have ever been hostile towards the treaties we have sighed are the vampires, their treaty is quite simply, we keep the hunter out, they don't kill, we let them in and don't kill them, they wi

Sherlock opened his eyes reluctantly, he was tightly wrapped in a duvet cocoon and he really didn't want to move. The memories of last night's case still fresh in his mind, an all round ordinary case, nothing especially strange or challenging for Sherlock, although being bitten by a rather large and angry dog wasn't very pleasant. But as usual Sherlock ignored it and had planned on calling John in the morning, although now that morning had come he realized that it maybe wasn't such as good idea. He made an attempt to move but as soon as he did a soul destroying headache hit him like a ton of bricks, the only thing he could compare it t