Fic Rec: Among the Secret Things (Remix)

[pipmer1.livejournal.com]

Title: Among the Secret Things (Remix)
Original Story and Author: Lacuna by coloredink
Author: Kate_Lear
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 26,073
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: None
Verse: Sherlock BBC

Author's summary: Sherlock would be the last person to describe himself as given to flights of fancy, but at the look on Lestrade’s face he could swear that something inside him curls up and dies.

Reccer's comments: My goodness, but this is intense, delicious, gorgeous and heart-rending. The author does a breath-taking remix of coloredink's wonderful amnesia fic, Lacuna, by cleverly integrating Dante's Nine Circles of Hell into the mix. Whereas the original story comes mostly from the point of view of John, the one suffering from amnesia, this remix explores Sherlock's perspective of the same events in a way that will make your heart ache. The author skillfully draws the reader into Sherlock's turmoil over John's memory loss in a way that plumbs his emotional depths while staying in character the entire time. When Sherlock makes a decision that is wrong on so many levels after John makes an incorrect assumption about the nature of their relationship, one can't help but continue to feel sympathy pains for him as he descends into a personal hell of his own making. As an added bonus, Mycroft is awesome in this, especially as a younger version of himself in the opening prologue.

He hadn’t been prepared for this. John was supposed to wake up and shout at Sherlock for getting them both into such a mess. Sherlock was supposed to apologise, looking suitably chastened, and then distract John with more of the Inferno, which perhaps would lead to Sherlock telling John about the case he’d solved regarding a forgery of an eighteenth-century book, based purely on the fact that the type it was printed in hadn’t been cast until 1890. Doctors always made the worst patients, and John would surely need the distraction.

But this… it felt like part of Sherlock had died, somehow, when John glared at him with nothing but that look of suspicion on his face. Nothing was left of all the little moments of camaraderie, of slowly growing affection, of the occasional – the very occasional – instances where they were both drunk on exhaustion and adrenaline and it seemed almost as though John was going to take it further. He’d stand too close to Sherlock, looking up at him, and Sherlock would force himself not to make a sarcastic remark or turn away or even break John’s gaze, his heart pounding and a strange mix of elation and terror twisting through him.

Until John’s eyes would shift away and he’d turn his back on Sherlock, muttering some nonsense about how tired he was, while disappointment sagged heavy in Sherlock’s chest.

Gone, all gone: meals out after cases, and violin concerts to an audience of one when John couldn’t sleep, and John’s face when Sherlock would make dinner for him (as though all cooking wasn’t chemistry, when it came down to it, and achievable by any idiot who could read). Such memories now only existed in Sherlock’s head, which history had demonstrated wasn’t a good place for warm, nice things, and he wished desperately that he’d paid more attention while the events were happening, had hugged every tiny detail greedily to himself.

Comments

[bulleteyes.livejournal.com]

Absolutely giving a second recommendation! You gave us a vivid description of a beautiful fic.

[pipmer1.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

[ruth0007.livejournal.com]

Thank you for leading me to this story! It was as you described and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Poor Sherlock!

[pipmer1.livejournal.com]

You're very welcome, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm with you on 'Poor Sherlock'. Even though John is the one suffering from an injury and disability, Sherlock is the one I felt the most empathy for! Even when I read Lacuna, I felt the same way.