Fic Rec: Perception

[thetreesgrowodd.livejournal.com]

Title: Perception
Author: holyfant
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 7800
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/non-con
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: John is perceptive sometimes.

Reccer's comments: While in a committed relationship with John, Sherlock has sex with another man. John leaves, and Sherlock turns to Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson for help in getting him back, but they take John's side and condemn Sherlock. But none of them - not even Sherlock - fully understand why Sherlock did what he did.

This fic deals with some complicated topics, and isn't always easy to read (although it is well-written and the ending is hopeful). Sherlock has issues with sex and relationships (it's implied that he was abused as a child) and has trouble thinking and speaking clearly about them. John, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson's reactions are intense, but the author gives plausible reasons (insecurities, past traumas) why.

Before you click the link - I suggest skipping the author's note at the beginning as it contains spoilers.

Excerpt: “How can you, Sherlock?” she [Mrs. Hudson] says, her voice almost a squeak. “Do something like that to poor John? You ought to be ashamed.”

I am, he almost says, but then doesn't, because he's not sure if it would help, and he's not even sure if it's true – he's not quite accustomed to this deep, dark feeling that's filling up his chest like glue, slowing down his organs, his limbs; and if John were here he'd ask him what it was, and John would laugh at him trying to categorise feeling like it was another specimen, but if John would tell him it was shame that would be what it was, but he has the almost lucid thought that it's guilt, full, empty, choking. Guilt because of what John's eyes did, in the bathroom, looking at him with the hardness of stones. Guilt because that was him, again, bringing John to that state.

“I know,” he therefore says, because that is true. But of course, and he shouldn't be surprised, because there isn't anything he can do right if what he does makes John leave Baker Street and tell him not to follow him, it's the wrong thing to say, and her eyes flash.

“And with such a foul man,” she snaps. He has a flash of regret for telling her what happened, but for once his mouth had been ahead of his brain, and time is about the only thing he can't turn around on itself, that he can't bring back to its core, so he can't unsay it. There aren't often moments when he wishes he could unsay things, but this day has brought him many already, and he feels the pressure of them, of the words that he should have kept in his mouth but that are now roaming free, and it's all his fault.