Fic Rec: The Thing That Happens To Other People

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Title: The Thing That Happens To Other People
Author: inkvoices
Pairing: Gen
Length: 4,050 words approx.
Rating: PG-13
Verse: Sherlock BBC

Author's summary: AU for the prompt Sherlock is John’s therapist.
“Did you serve in Afghanistan or Iraq?” the man clarifies, steepling his fingers under his chin so that he looks like he’s praying for patience, and John reminds himself that he only has to attend six obligatory sessions with a psychiatrist.

Author's Disclaimer: I feel I should point out that I am not a therapist, I know very little about psychiatric care, and I know absolutely nothing about psychiatric care for veterans. Not that I think Sherlock would be a conventional psychiatrist, but there you are.
Also, slight taking the mick out of fandom tropes in session four. Maybe. *whistles innocently*

Reccer's comments: Possibly one of the few AUs that made me go, "Seriously?" but then had me totally converted within a few paragraphs!

This is still very much John-I'd-rather-have-teeth-pulled-than-talk-about-my-feelings-Watson and Sherlock-social-boundaries-what-are-those-Holmes. Sherlock as a therapist still says what he thinks but has developed a niche as a therapist for soldiers because of his, "lack of bullshit"!

What I really love about this AU is that John and Sherlock still fit together in the same way that they do in canon. John is damaged by Afghanistan both here and in canon and it is the influence of Sherlock in both that fixes him. They need each other.

This is both a brilliant AU and a fantastic friendship story and the gentle poke at fandom tropes is just priceless! Definitely one to read again and again!

Excerpt:

John stands still as the door shuts behind him. There’s a worn, navy couch placed at an angle that takes up most of the room and he vows there and then not to lie back on it sobbing his heart out or reliving his childhood like some cliché, or even to sit on it without being asked.
...
“Did you serve in Afghanistan or Iraq?” the man clarifies, steepling his fingers under his chin so that he looks like he’s praying for patience, and John reminds himself that he only has to attend six obligatory sessions with a psychiatrist.
“You’ve got my file,” he replies.
“Probably, but I haven’t read it.”
“You haven’t read it?” John repeats, staring at him.
“Of course not. Where’s the fun in that?”