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Originally posted by [livejournal.com profile] thesoulofchaos at Fandoms 9 and 10
Fandom: Elementary
Rating: 12
Word Count: 234
NB: Spoilers for Season 3 finale.

Even though she told herself that this might happen, she found she couldn’t breathe. She had been a sober companion before she had met Sherlock - she knew the relapse rates. She had never allowed herself to think that heroin was off the table for good, because forever was a long time to go without a vice so strong.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, like a sucker punch to the gut, to see him like this. Sherlock had said that she had never met that side of him, the addict Sherlock. He had been right.

She had met him now.

Captain Gregson put his hand on her shoulder, tried to guide her out of the tunnel, but she shrugged him off and stepped forward. Sherlock didn’t seem to realise she was there. She didn’t think he knew any of them were there.

She blamed herself. She knew the toll Alfredo’s kidnapping had taken on Sherlock. She should never have let him go with Oscar on his own - not matter how much he had insisted. She had failed him. She had failed her friend.

She wanted to slap herself. Now was not the time for this.

Watson knelt down in front of Sherlock and lay one hand on his arm. He looked up at her, though she had no idea if he was really seeing her or not.

“I’m here to take you home Sherlock”



Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG
Word Count: 192


Stiles couldn’t sleep.

It was a pretty common thing really, at least two or three nights a week. Just usually it was because he had gotten the dosage wrong on his Adderall or taken it at the wrong time, or he’d had too much caffeine. Tonight it was his thoughts that kept him awake.

He’d never really thought about what it meant to be human before. Not until he was surrounded by those who weren’t.

After Scott had been bitten it was like everything supernatural that he never knew existed suddenly came bursting out of the closet. Now he was surrounded by werewolves and other creatures he didn’t know were real, except they were wearing the faces of his friends.

Others had offered to turn him - make him a werewolf. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t tempted, at least the first time. After that it got easier to shrug off their offers and smile and say thanks but no thanks. They always seemed so disappointed in him when he did turn them down, like choosing to remain human was so unthinkable.

Like they didn’t used to be human once.

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