ext_5777 ([identity profile] rabidsamfan.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] 221b_recs2012-04-21 08:18 pm

Shadow

Title: Shadow
Author: [livejournal.com profile] qthebadwolf
Pairing: John/Sherlock "sort of" -- I'd call it gen
Length: 4,236 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: parental alcoholism, family dysfunction, one racial slur (author's warnings)
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: When he was five years old, John Watson had a cat called Shadow.
Reccer's comments: Some fics you keep going back to, although it sounds odd to call a fic which invariably has me reaching for kleenex as a comfort fic, this is one of mine. It might be the adorableness of five year old Johnny Watson. It might be the uncertain and frequently distracted observations of his older sister Harry, who has the central point of view. And it might be the sheer bloodymindedness of a certain small black cat...

In any case, it's a wonderful read.



“His name’s Shadow.”

The cat looked up with lazy yellow eyes. It was huge and black with a face like vampire and dear God how long had Johnny had been feeding it behind their house?

“It’s a stray, you tit-box. Strays don’t have names.”

“He does. He’s black like a shadow and doesn’t make no noise when he walks. So he’s called Shadow.”

Harry caught a glimpse of jagged yellow fang lurking like a dagger behind the cat’s lip. “Oh, Christ, Johnny, stay away from it! It’ll bite.”

“He’s hurt,” Johnny replied calmly. He was only five; he should have been easier to argue with. He was right, though: a nasty red gash ran from the corner of the cat’s head all the way across the soft bit in front of its ear. Harry wasn’t surprised. She thought she’d seen this cat fighting with Mrs. Addington’s nasty Alsatian that was always getting loose. The cat had won. At a cost, it seemed.

Harry stepped forward, trying to get between the death-clawed menace and her idiot baby brother. “Seriously, Johnny, Mum’ll have a fit if that thing scratches you - “

There was a sudden low, eerie noise, like an airplane losing altitude. The cat never once looked up from the table scraps Johnny had set out for it, but gave a second warning growl when Harry didn’t step backwards. She didn’t need telling a third time.