bakerstreet | (no subject)

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Hurt/comfort is a fan fiction genre that involves the physical pain or emotional distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. The injury, sickness or other kind of hurt allows an exploration of the characters and their relationship.

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- Roll 1-10 at RNG for a scene, play it out and have fun!

1. INJURY. You've been injured. Broken bones or bleeding out or maybe just a tiny little papercut. The choice is yours.
2. SICKNESS. You're sick and laid up in bed, at home or in a hospital. The severity is up to you.
3. FEAR/ANXIETY. Something is happening and you're scared beyond belief.
4. LOSS OF SENSES. Sight, touch, taste, hearing, smell, etc. You've lost some important sense or ability and now you're left to deal with it.
5. DESPAIR. Nothing is good or right anymore and you can't shake the depression. Maybe that friend of yours can help though...
6. BREAKUP. You've been dumped. You need someone to comfort you, possibly by the one who dumped you.
7. MAKE UP. Fight or break up, it's time to makeup.
8. RESCUED. You've just been held captive and/or tortured for however long and finally, someone has come to the rescue.
9. BAD ROMANCE. Fight, cheated on, abused, whatever the case is, someone else can clearly see you need comfort from someone who isn't your terrible lover tonight.
10. LOSS. You've experience a loss of some kind and need help getting through it.
11. INSANITY. You're seeing things that aren't really there, hearing voices, or you're just convinced you're at your wit's end finally and you're going to crack. Maybe someone can give you a helping hand.
12. TIRED. You've had a heard life recently and you're just worn too thin to really care anymore. There's no fight left in you anymore. Can someone help change your mind?
13. ADDICTION. Drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, or any other type of addiction has got you in its grasp. First time or relapse. Will someone be able to save you?
14. INSOMNIA. You can't sleep anymore, no matter how hard you try. Maybe someone can give you company.
15. NIGHTMARES. Or, on the other end of the spectrum, you can't sleep without gruesome, horrible nightmares. Either someone is stuck in your dream with you, witnessing it or they're just waking you up, soothing you out of it.
16. BLACKMAIL. You've been caught doing something you shouldn't and you were blackmailed because of it
17. SEPARATION. You're going to be separated for awhile or were separated for a long time. Either make up for lost time or try to spend every last moment together.
18. VIOLATED. You've been violated in some way. Can include sexual overtones or not. Can someone help you through it?
19. STRANDED. You've been stranded somewhere remote, with no help of anyone finding you for awhile. Can you survive this together?
20. SINS. You're feeling the weight of your sins and guilt clearer than ever. Can someone give you absolution or lessen the ache any?
21. SECRET. It's difficult having to keep that secret of yours, be it a relationship or something you just don't want to share with anybody else. Maybe it's okay to talk about it now though...
22. ADDITION. Babies should be joyous things unless you're in a situation where you know you won't be able to care for them. Either you've adopted or found out you're pregnant.

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[ Sherlock being there and speaking to her helps Joan to let go of the nurse, weakly apologizing before she's looking at Sherlock. She's then reaching out her good hand towards him, his name cracking on her voice. ]

H-how?

[ She felt so lost. ]

[Sherlock takes the nurse's place, which she is very glad to give up because she has wounds to tend on her arm now. Superficial. They won't leave lasting scars.]

I found you in an abandoned brewery.

[He's not one for random displays of affection, and not really knowing if they would be accepted by Joan after everything they'd been through. But, he still touches her hand. Offers his for her to hold if she'd like.]

Lestrade's looking for the kidnapper. I've given him more than enough to work with and I'm expecting a call about it within the next eight hours. You're safe and you're going to stay that way.

[ Slowly, it comes back to Joan, what had happened, how Sherlock had found her. It blurred together before she woke up here. But she was quick to take the offered hand, holding onto it tightly. She had thought she would never see him again. Of course she wasn't going to refuse such affection or comfort. Not after what she has been through.

She stares at him for a long moment before looking around them and the nurses in the room, wide-eyed, before looking back at Sherlock. ]

D-did you see him?

[Sherlock doesn't acknowledge the nurses as they finish up and start to leave the room. The crisis is averted and Joan's awake and her heart rate is still fast, but not dangerously so.]

No. I haven't seen him, but I've given Lestrade more than enough details to make an arrest.

[It's rare that he'll choose the victim over pursuing the criminal, but this had been one of those times. He'd done the same when he'd helped Joan's boyfriend instead of pursuing General Shan. Only this time, things were more personal. He'd actually found himself emotionally invested.]

But, it's fine. You're safe now and I won't let anything else happen.

[Well, other than the inevitable questioning. If it were anyone else, he would have already started grilling her for information.]

[ She looked around them again, eyeing the hospital staff warily before she looks back at Sherlock, confused. ]

You... won't leave?

[ Because normally Sherlock would be gone and working on the case himself. Her grip on his hand didn't lessen, she didn't want him to leave. But still. She felt the need to ask. ]

[Sherlock considers her for a moment. He'd been there with her other than the short time he'd gone off to use the facilities. Isn't that enough to answer? Oh, but she's awake now.]

I'll leave when you want me to.

[Not before. Though, she'll probably be begging him to leave if she's in here for more than two days. Sherlock dislikes sitting in one space for too long almost as much as he dislikes hospitals. He's bound to get on her nerves before too long.]

Mrs. Hudson's got Arthur. She came by, alone, while you were still out.

[ She's shaking her head even as it makes the room spin. ]

I don't want you to leave.

[ The mention of Arthur has her anxious all over again, though. ]

He's alright?

[ Again, she had to ask even if the answer was obvious. ]

[Sherlock doesn't say anything to her saying she doesn't want him to leave. It's a step up from the fighting they'd been doing before this. He'd been doubting she'd ever truly forgive him for jumping from Bart's.]

He's fine. Upset, I'd imagine. He's been demanding to know where we've been.

[And Sherlock hadn't told him. Is it because he hadn't had the time or is it because he hadn't known what to say?]

[ There was a time when she had thought the same thing. But in the face of dying alone and beaten in a dark room for no reason she could understand... In that dark, hopeless place, she had told herself if she got the chance to see him again, she wouldn't waste that chance. ]

What have you told him?

Nothing, really. I talked to him last night, but I just told him we'd be coming home soon.

[Sherlock should have told him the truth. He still doesn't know what stopped him.]

Should I have Mrs. Hudson bring him round in the morning?

[ Joan feels herself smile slightly at that, a little moved that Sherlock would do that for Arthur. But she shakes her head. ]

No. I don't want him exposed to the germs.

[ Her eyes drift towards the window, her voice coming out soft. ]

You could have told him I was in the hospital. He would understand.

[ At least enough to know that they wouldn't be back for a while. ]

Mrs. Hudson's probably already done that.

[Thinking of the germs, Sherlock isn't sure he wants himself or Joan exposed to them, either. At least they've cleaned her up and dosed her with some prophylactics to avoid her giving herself an infection with the excrement issue. If she doesn't remember that particular bit, he won't be filling her in on the details.]

Joan. Do you have any idea why you were kidnapped? Did your captor say anything to you about it?

[ Unfortunately, Joan remembers more than she cares to. It plays back in her mind like a nightmare but a disturbingly clear one. She looks back at Sherlock, ]

No. He never said anything. The whole time. I never saw face, either.

[ Her throat clicks when she swallows, ]

He was wearing a mask.

Edited 2013-12-08 22:35 (UTC)

[Sherlock had been worried about that. He's a man that always seeks answers, but tumbling into a situation where the answers aren't clear? Well, that's a nightmare all on its own. Involving Joan in the process is just cruel.]

Nothing at all?

[He almost curses and he doesn't look very pleased.

Alright. He'll have to wait until they've got him in custody. He'll ask to watch and maybe give a few questions of his own. One way or another, he will be getting his answers.]

[ She responds with another soft 'no' to his answer, eyes lowering to her lap. ]

I'm sorry.

[Sherlock narrows his eyes for a moment. Joan's acting strangely, isn't she? She should be snapping at him, but instead she's acting submissive. It must be the trauma. She'll bounce back in no time.]

No matter. I'll ask him myself once he's at the Yard.

[He pats Joan's knuckles and then turns to pull the chair up so he can sit down again.]

Edited 2013-12-08 22:56 (UTC)

[ Joan isn't sure why she's acting this way, either. There's just... something in her that feels numbed. That and she's still having a hard time believing this is real. That she escaped that place.

She doesn't even look at Sherlock when he pats her knuckles. ]

This is real, isn't it? I'm actually here?

[ And not in that in that dark room, chained to the floor. ]

Oh, it better be or I've been drugged again.

[Sarcastic humour. Of course this is real. There's too much pain and irritating noise for it not to be, But, Sherlock's heard stranger things come out of people's mouths when they've gone into shock.]

You were in shock. Not emotionally, but hypovolemic. They've also got you on some narcotic pain killers. It you feel odd, that's why.

[Plus adrenaline sans sedative.]

If you were still in that chair, you'd be dead. You were... you were pretty close to it after I got you out.

[The pause in that sentence was caused by a moment of confusion. The sound of his own voice hitching.]

[ It was the sound of that hitch that snapped Joan out of it, her head turning to look at Sherlock. She doesn't say anything for a long moment. Then, she raises her good hand to his face, gently cupping a cheek before her fingertips trace along his cheekbone and up to his brow. As if she were trying to memorize his features.

She sweeps the curls from his forehead before cupping his cheek again.

It served as a good reminder for both of them that she was here, she was alive. ]

[Any other time and Sherlock would be pulling away from her. Then again, any other time and his voice wouldn't have betrayed him like that. For the love of God and all things holy, he hopes that she decides not to bring it up. Ever. That would be the most comfortable.]

Like I said. This is real.

[He tilts his head toward her hand. Just a little bit. She'll probably notice.]

[ She does notice, her thumb brushing his skin lightly before she says, ]

I love you.

[ She swallows hard again. ]

If this is real then I want you to know. I want to say it because... I didn't think I'd get a chance to after h-he took me. I don't expect you to say it back. I just wanted to say it.

[ She starts to take her hand back, feeling like she couldn't keep it up like that for much longer. ]

[Sherlock and Joan weren't the type to put emotions and things like this into words. Those three words have always been implicit. Never spoken, but seen in actions. For instance, when Sherlock makes the coffee in the morning before Joan wakes up. He doesn't do it often, so when he does, it means something. Or, the way Joan touches his hair when he crawls into bed at three in the morning.

It successfully has enough of an impact to knock the words out of him.

Uncomfortable? Yes, a little bit. He frowns in response and looks down. He's not sure if he can say it. But, if Joan's saying it, it must mean that implying it isn't good enough anymore.]

You don't have to say it for me to know it.

[ For most of their relationship, implication worked fine. It was fitting. It was comfortable. But brushes with death have a way of putting things in perspective. Of shaking a person. Her abduction had been different from the other times. After she had been shot, she felt empty, alone when she returned to London. A kind of disconnect.

The times it happened on cases with Sherlock... Those times had been thrilling. Made her feel alive.

Her abduction had been sudden, random. No motive that she was aware of. She had been alone. Chained in a dark room with no way to tell how much time had passed other than her own bodily functions.

Needless to say, she had prayed more than once while there.

She looks down, too, feeling a corner of her mouth twitch upward. ]

I never stopped. Even after you came back.

Joan.

[She's going to turn this into a long confession, isn't she? Sherlock wouldn't be so upset about it in other situations. Normal people, and Joan is about 75% normal, tend to have such sentimental attachments. They want to express it and talk about it. They want to make sure that the object of their desire and affection knows how they feel without any ambiguity.

Sherlock is about 15% normal on a damn good day. He doesn't do this sort of thing.

And, if Joan decided to play sappy confession games with him after a case when they're both pumped full of adrenaline, that's one thing. But, here? Now? It seems off. Too final. Too serious.

Sure, Sherlock had been uncertain of Joan's feelings toward him during the weeks after his return, but things settled down recently. He'd been invited back into 221B. They lived together. Things are more or less how they were. Well, with an addition.]

It's fine, Joan. I know. Just rest right now.

Well, better you hear it now than when I'm a ghost and come back to haunt you.

[ She wasn't going to make a long, sappy confession. She just wanted to say what she felt, make it clear. Since she had almost died, she felt entitled to at least that much. ]