The Sherlock Shuffle
I may as well jump on the band-wagon and do one of these. Short drabbles about Sherlock told through songs. Rated for mentions of suicidal thoughts, slight mention of drugs and language. Basically it's some fluffy, funny, angsty Sherlock goodness.
So yeah I got my iPhone, put it on shuffle and decided to do take part in the challenge.
Rule 1: Pick a pairing you like Rule 2: Put your music on shuffle Rule 3: Write a drabble/fic relating to each song that plays
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the songs used in this fic.
Warnings: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, slight mentions of drug abuse some strong language and hints at m/m relationship.
Pairings: Multiple Pairings
Written in the duration of the song as much as possible .
Hope you enjoy!
I Will Follow Him by Little Peggy March
"I will follow him, follow him wherever he may go" John Watson had no idea how they fell into this arrangement, wherever Sherlock went he followed like loyal puppy dog and the more he done it the more he found he didn't actually mind. They were a pair, a duo and some would probably say a couple -well most actually would consider them a couple- even Mycroft who was still holding out for a happy announcement. John smiled at the memory, maybe Mycroft was physic or maybe it was just obvious to everyone except them that they were destined to be together. Well now it was obvious to everyone except Sherlock it would seem, giving that John had now finally surrendered to his feelings for his sociopathic flatmate. He'd never have a chance though, Sherlock had already informed John that he was married to his work. That's why, when they were sitting together on the sofa, trying to relax after a particularly grueling case when Sherlock turned round and gently brushed his lips against Johns the later was more than a little surprised. When he asked for an explination and demanded "What happened to being married to your work" the sociopath meerly smiled and shrugged his shoulders as though it were obvious. You work with me dont you John. Yeah John really didn't mind following Sherlock, not one bit.
Never Say Never by The Fray
It was all over. When Sherlock had died John had as well, not literally of course but he may as well have. He was hollow, empty. He wasn't sleeping, he wasn't eating everyone could see the ex-army doctor slowly spiraling deeper and deeper into darkness and solitude and no one knew what to do. The man that held the key to John Watsons heart was gone. Greg tried to talk to him, arrange a night out at the pub but John always came up with some pathetic excuse as to why he couldn't manage and when Mycroft had visited 221B Baker Street he left with a swollen jaw and two missing teeth for his troubles. He was going to end it all, there was no point in living, not without him. He peered over the edge of the building, the very same building where he watched his best friend fall six months ago. He could never see him again, never tell him how he truely felt about him. He took a deep breath and just as he was about to let himself fall a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to safety. "John, I love you."
Money, Money, Money by ABBA
"God sakes Sherlock, have you got any idea how many bills we have, do you even know what a bloody bill is? I feel like we owe everybody money and we have no way in which to pay them back! You work cases for the police Sherlock! You've worked cases for government, bankers and christ you've even worked cases for the Royal Family Sherlock. Yet you always refuse the money. Why? Mummy isn't going to pay the bills for you now Sherlock, you actually have to make a living of your own. My wage barely covers my half of the rent never mind yours, then theres the gas bill, electricity bill, everything! So why the hell do you refused to get paid?"
John let out a shakey breath once he'd finished his rant. His knuckles white as he gripped on to the bill. Anger coursing through him as he regarded his flat-mate who by this time had carefully placed his book on the table so he could focus all his attention on the distressed Doctor. His response truely wasn't what John had been expecting.
"I don't work cases because I want the money John, I work cases because I want to help people," his eyes lingered on John for a second before he stood up in silence and retreated to his room. John sighed as the guilt washed over him. He had never felt so bad in his whole life. It turns out that there really was more to life than money after all.
Poison by Alice Cooper
Sherlock Holmes and Jim Moriarty. They were perfect for each other, their mind worked in the same way. They understood each other. For them to remain as enemies would be pointless, not when they could be so great together. No one could ever find out though. The "consulting detective" in love with the "consulting criminal" it would put both their lives in danger. Every kiss, every touch was poison. The more they saw of each the more dangerous their fragile relationship became. They wanted this, they wanted it to much. They had become addicted to each other, their unique "jobs" made it difficult for them to see much of each other. They could go months without even so much as a phone call, it was difficult sure and slowly it was destroying them both. The walls they had built over many years were crumbling. They both knew they should end it but they never could and they never would. Yes every kiss they shared threatened their very existence as the poison flowed through them. The risks were worth it though, they lived for the nights when they could finally be together. Block out the rest of the world and feel safe curled up in bed together. Sure it wasn't a normal relationship but they weren't normal people to begin with. It didn't matter though because for those short few hours when they were together. They both knew that they were truly excepted and for that it was worth all the poison.
I'll be There for You by The Rembrants (Friends Theme Tune)
Greg Lestrade had always been there for Sherlock. Helped to keep the sociopaths boredom at bay. Yet Sherlock had always kept the man at arms length. It wasn't that Sherlock didn't like the Detective Inspector it was in fact the total opposite. Gregory was his first friend. He had saw the consulting detective at some of the darkest moments of his life. It had been Lestrade who had found Sherlock when he had went too far and was OD'ing in his flat. The DI had taken him to the hospital, informed his brother of his condition and most importantly he had sat with Sherlock, helped him recover. He was only a phone call away on those long nights when the threat of tempation almost became too much. He had been a shoulder to cry on when Sherlocks father had passed away, proof that the genius wasn't as heartless as people thought. Lestrade was the one vital lifeline that Sherlock had to humanity. Greg, however, presumed that the affection was purely one sided. Sherlock could come to him for help and he would always be welcomed, whilst he must face his problems on his own. He was proved wrong though when his mother died and the consulting detective arrived at his flat and pulled him into a tight embrace allowing the DI to cry against him. When the tears had finally stopped falling Sherlock ran his hands throught the older mans hair and whispered, "I'll always be there for you Gregory, whenever you need me, I'll be there"
Just the Way You Are by the Glee Cast (originally by Bruno Mars)
Molly sighed as she continued to mess around with her hair. Why couldn't he see, maybe he could but was just too polite to tell her to back off. She'd tried everything to impress him, nothing made any difference. She wasn't stupid mind, she knew that when Sherlock did pay her a compliment it was for his own advantage, she humoured him anyway. Even fake attention was better than no attention at all. This strange beautiful man entrigued her, she loved him. He could never love her though, why should he. Sherlock could go out any day of the week and end up with a girl, not only smarter than herself but far more beautiful. So she continued with her work, she lived for those days when Sherlock would pay her a visit in the lab. Today was one of those days, so she spent extra time in front of the mirror this morning, carefully applying her pink lipstick, foundation, blusher and finally mascara. She sighed, she'd always hated make-up. It looked too fake and quite frankly she felt rather ridiculous but if this is what she must to do to win his affection then it would be worth it. When he walked in the room Molly's smile could have lit up the whole of London, if not the whole of England. Not a single word passed between them as he worked, not unusual it has to be said. The hours was passed with Sherlock deep in though, waiting for the result of an experiment and Molly was deep in thought about Sherlock, waiting for one of his fake compliments. It never came though instead out of the blue Sherlock snapped his head up and sighed. "Why do you do this to yourself Molly, your forever trying to better your appearance. You constantly search for imperfections with your appearance that don't exist. Never change who you are to try and impress someone else. Yor perfect Molly, just the way you are." Molly's smile could have lit up the entire universe.
Never Forget You by The Noisettes
They had met before, they had been best friends. They had been each others only friends. Other children couldn't understand them, never even gave them a chance. It didn't matter though because Sherlock had Jim and Jim had Sherlock. They didn't need anybody else, everybody else was boring. It was the only time in either of there lives when they could claim to be totally happy. It wasn't to last though. Jim's parents decided to move back to Ireland and that was that, the friendship was gone. Their future had been altered, the lives they led couldn't have been more different now. Jim grew up, filled with anger and resent. Sherlock turned to drugs. The difference was Sherlock had Mycroft, he had Lestrade. They stopped the genius from going off the rails, he decided he wanted to become a "consulting detective" to help people. Jim decided he wanted revenge on everyone, he became the worlds only "consulting criminal". They never forgot though, their one true friend, their only friend. The sociopath and the psychopath. They were made for each other but they just passed each other by. Maybe there lives could have been so very different. Maybe they could have been happy. Maybe they could have learned to trust. Maybe it didn't have to end like this. As the shot rang out on the top of St Bartholomew roof, it was over. The game was finally finished. No one had won, even though Sherlocks plan would ensure the lives of not only John, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson but he'd managed to ensure the safety of his own life as well. Watching as the blood began to pool around Jim's head, Sherlock took his position on the roof. He'd never forget Jim Moriarty, he never could. So he fell, hoping that his plan would fail. Right now falling seemed a much better alternative to flying. Maybe they could finally find peace in death. Hopefully they could finally be together.
He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother by The Hollies
Sherlock's welfare, no matter what was Mycrofts main concern. It always had been ever since Sherlock had been a baby, he looked so small, so vulnerable and from the very first time he'd laid eyes on the crying bundle wrapped tight in a pale blue blanket he'd sworn that he would do anything in his power to keep him safe. Their parents worked away a lot, leaving the care of Sherlock with Mycoft and the arrangement suited them both fine. When Sherlock fell and cut his knees Mycroft was there to clean up the wound and provide ice-cream to the upset little boy. When Sherlock started school and the other children bullied him for being different Mycroft was there to provide a shoulder to cry on and told Sherlock that the other children were just jealous of his superior intelect and that getting close to people would only result in him getting hurt. They had each other, they didn't need anyone else. That was until Mycroft had to leave for University. That's where the tension between then began. Sherlock never forgave Mycroft for leaving. Without the presence of his brother, Sherlock slowly began to self-destruct. He wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, he never talked to anyone unless it was completely neccessary. He had pratically isolated himself from all of humanity. With no friends and no family to stop him, he turned to drugs. Mycroft had never forgiven himself for that, if it wasn't for Greg Lestrade his brother would be dead and it would all have been his fault.
Things got better though, even the relationship between the brothers improved especially since John had been on the scene. He thought that finally his brother had a chance to be happy, for the first time in his life he had friends. And it was the case, for a while at least until Mycroft had ruined it, he had killed his brother. It wasn't he who had physically murdered his brother, he had however gave the ammunition Moriarty needed in order the destroy Sherlock thus prompting his only brother to commit suicide and worse that that. All the good Sherlock had done for people, all the cases solved all the lives saved, everyone thought that it was a lie. That his brother was a fake. The guilt never left Mycroft, he'd broken the promise he had made to himself twenty-seven years ago. He hadn't done everything in his power to keep Sherlock safe, he'd done the opposite he had strived to get as much information from Moriarty as he could and for what. Nothing. His brother had died for nothing. Mycroft lead an empty life until one day he recieved a anonymous text. It read,
It wasn't your fault.
SH
Mycroft smiled for the first time in years. He was alive.
Bad Behaviour by Jedward
Eighteen year old Mycroft Holmes was at breaking point. Sherlock was home for the summer holidays and to make matters once he'd brought Jim with him. Ever since the boys had met on the first day of primary they'd been inseparable much to Mycrofts dismay. Every holiday they spend at Holmes manor ended in disaster. With Mummy and Daddy away on buisness and half of the staff terrified and avoiding the boys like the plauge. It was up to him to try and keep the insane ten year olds under control. Three weeks into the holiday had passed with no sigificant incidents. Mycroft smiled, maybe the boys had finally developed some maturity and manners over the school term. It was Sunday afternoon and Mycroft was in his room, reading a book about former Prime Ministers of Great Britain and all was well the manor was in total silence. Mycroft glanced at his watch, the boys had been deathly silent for hours now and knowing his brother that could only mean one thing. He was up to something, he sighed and carefully placed the book on the table. He took care when walking through the corridors, making sure that there was no unwelcome surprises waiting for him round the corridor. There was none, he had checked all of Sherlocks usual favourite spots and the boys were nowhere to be found. With panic setting in he was just about to go and find the nanny when he heard an almighty bang coming from the grounds. They had only gone and blown up the bloody shed. They didn't even seem fazed when Mycroft was yelling at them, if anything it just made the whole situation ten times more hilarious to the boys. When asked what in the world had possesed them to do it they both shrugged and smiled, "It was an experiment".
Father and Daughter by Paul Simon
Five year old Poppy Watson-Holmes was curled up on the sofa, wrapped in her Barney the Dinosaur duvet, her Scooby-Doo teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest. Sniffling miserably, Sherlock was leaning against the door, smiling sympathetically at the little bundle who was currently engrossed in her Lady and the Tramp dvd trying to ignore her cold. He never thought it would be possible for him to be so happy, before John came along Sherlock had been quite content with being alone. He prided himself in being a highly-functioning sociopath. Now, however, he couldn't imagine life without John and Poppy and he was determined to give his daughter the kind of upbringing he always dreamed of. The kind of upbringing himself and Mycroft never had. A happy childhood, a childhood filled with love. He would do anything to ensure her happiness. A normal childhood would never have been possible. Poppy had the worlds only consulting detective as a Daddy, an ex-army doctor as a Dad, she had the British Government and a DI as Uncles. The excentric landlady Mrs Hudson acted as a very loving Grandmother. Nah it wasn't normal, who wants normal. Normal was boring. All that mattered was that she was loved and protected whether it be from the non existent monsters hiding under the bed or the very real criminal masterminds who really did want to harm her. He hadn't noticed that John had entered the flat until he felt his husbands arm wrap around his waist. "What you thinking about" the ex-army Doctor asked as he smiled lovingly at the little girl that had long since fallen asleep. Sherlock smiled and linked his hand with Johns, "I was thinking about how lucky I am" John squeezed his husbands hand softly, "You mean how lucky we are" There eyes met and they smiled softly at each other. Yeah thought Sherlock this was so much better than being alone.
Hope you enjoyed it!
I know some parts of it are rubbish, incredibly cheesy and cliche but we all need a little bit of JohnLock fluff in our life and I'm afraid I'm not a big fan of modern day music so thats the reason for the ancient music that lives in my iPod :')
Anyway thanks for reading and reviews are welcome! :)
Emma-Louise xx
