It Just Won't Quit, a sherlock fanfic

Because going all the way is just a start

Deep thanks to my beta MizJoely for holding my hand

"It Just Won't Quit" music and lyrics by Jim Steinman

And I never really sleep anymore

And I always get those dangerous dreams

And I never get a minute of peace

And I got to wonder what it means

The rain had already slowed to a mist, but he was soaked to the skin, staring up across the street. He'd been awake for days as the chaos and insanity of the end of the living nightmare played out by frightening degrees. He'd held tight to the one burning point that had only grown brighter as his perpetual night had darkened. Now he stood frozen in place, afraid to look too closely at the flames.

There had been no place in his life for a lover, a companion, a paramour. He had had interests over time but they had faded, far too quickly to have been worth bothering, or even thinking about; an impossibility. He had thought himself incapable until what few dreams marked him turned to a comfort he'd fought to deny. So hard to stop thinking of dying and start finding a way to live. Dying would have been far easier.

It had been the thoughts of her that had gotten him through the darkness far deeper than any midnight had ever provided. The briefest touches of skin remembered, a brush of lips to cheek, but the memory he clutched almost desperately to was her eyes. Wide with acceptance, forgiveness, brimming over with something he didn't dare define.

He no longer resembled himself; hair too short, far too light. Too many scars stretched across too little flesh. She had seen him once. Still too hard to take in how well she saw him without turning away. The truth at the time hadn't been pretty, but now had grown powerful, ugly. Would he disgust her now? Would she see what he'd been forced to become?

Could she still accept him? She had once, had seemed to almost cherish him, but there was so little of him left. His hands shook, thinking what an empty burned out husk he had become. Could she still welcome him, not expect him to be the ghost she had held in her mind?

Maybe it's nothing and I'm under the weather

Maybe its just one of those bugs going round

Maybe I'm under a spell and it's magic

Maybe there's a witch doctor with an office in town

She opened the door at his second knock, the chain swinging wildly as she'd pulled it from the lock. He couldn't identify where his voice had risen from but the words tumbled forth. "Its over." Too many others he couldn't make himself say. Did we make it through? Did I survive? Can I come home now? Can you be home for me? He could see the momentary joy flash across her features but it quickly evaporated against something else, something so deep it shook what little protection he still had. How could she know all of what it had cost him? He hadn't been able to mourn it all.

She must have been fresh from a bath, her hair clamped with a clip haphazardly on top of her head; wet tendrils escaping to curl damply on her face and neck. A plain robe drawn loosely around her. The warmth of the water still emanated from her, waves of vanilla and sandalwood hanging in the air between them.

He stepped closer, willing her to know if she pulled away from him now, retreated from his touch, he would shatter as if he'd been dropped on dry ice. What little of him he had managed to hang on to would be gone as if he'd never been.

He caressed her cheek, his fingertips resting on her jaw. He brought his lips to hers, waiting, nearly touching. He had to know, without question or doubt that she wanted this, wanted him. An impossible battered hope he had clung to when all else failed him

She made the smallest, lushest sound he'd ever heard and he gave in, kissing her fully as the barriers of a lifetime crumbled around him and her arms wrapped him in. She was soft and good and pure and he was already so hopelessly lost.

Is this a blessing or is it a curse

Does it get any better, can it get any worse

Will it go on forever, is it over tonight

Does it come with the darkness, does it bring out the light

Is it richer than diamonds or just a little cheaper than spit

Bewildered, he felt her deepened the kiss, her lips soft and warm against his, silky absolution dancing on her tongue, trapping quiet sounds between them. She would be his solace, her tears running down his skin to the parched and barren soul within. A silence without threat, broken only by their breathy moans. A strange pride that he could coax those sounds from her.

She drew him in so close, pulled him in so tight as her fingers traced his collarbone. "It's all right." she whispered against his lips. "I've got you." Over and over between the kisses, a prayer, a benediction. A permanent ending forever held at bay because she would never allow it. A hot rush of possessiveness rolling over him, a sudden ache to belong with her.

He could taste her heartbeat in the hollow of her throat, hammering irregularly against his tongue as she caught her lip between her teeth. The sweet press of her body against his as unconsciously their hips drew tighter. He couldn't comprehend it, but he could drown in it, give himself over to the siren song he never heard, never defined, only felt within his bones. A pull he was too tired of fighting.

Her small hands gliding along his spine, pulling at his shirt, stripping the reluctance from him. No hesitation in her touch as she seemed to search for his skin, the assurance that he was really there, beneath her fingers, home. A sensual promise that he was welcomed.

Touch had always been clinical, often painful, yet every brush of her body was warmth and a sensation he didn't dare hope was affection. How could she care so much? He was too greedy, too selfish, and far too hungry to wait for an answer. Her face was flush with arousal. "I need you." He confessed, trusting more than he'd ever intended.

"I've always been yours." She breathed.

I don't know what it is but it just won't quit

The taste of her on his mouth left him craving so much more. She was temptation and salvation and a thousand other things he'd always believed were lies, that didn't really exist in a world as harsh and cold as the one he knew. He'd tried to deny the hope for far too long but the roaring wouldn't stop this time.

The feel of her mouth was exquisite torture, soft little moans rising from her throat. He wanted it to be beautiful, gentle, and sweet, for it to linger for hours as the world moved on without them, but it was all ready far too late for that. The hunger, the need had already robbed him, left him aching with unspoken desire, needing the sweet promise of fulfillment. Coherent thought was far behind and the moment bordered on agony.

Her eyes were burning wildly and fiercely and he was at the ragged edge, hanging on by his fingernails as her touch, her scent tore at his battered control. Far, far too fast, but he thought stopping, letting go of her might actually kill him. A pause, just a heartbeat to see if she would pull away before he swept her up, carried her to her small bedroom.

He heard her breath catch, doubt reaching with an icy hand for just a moment. He wasn't sure he could bear this, to be so open, so vulnerable in a way he'd never allowed himself before. The urgency demanding, consuming. The intolerable awareness of how much harm they could do to each other. A small prayer; that she could be strong enough for both of them. Strong enough for a place without form or definition. She had to help him to see that through.

And there used to be such an easy way of living

And there used to be every hope in the world

And I used to get everything that I went after

But there never used to be this girl

No, there never used to be this girl

He placed her back on her feet, forgoing the brighter overhead light in favor of the more muted glow of her bedside lamp. He immediately missed the warmth of her body under his hands. His mouth felt abandoned. She didn't hide from his intent gaze, a soft blush coloring her skin. The hard ridge of flesh trapped between them as she pressed herself closer to him.

The delicate rasp of fabric on skin, barriers and walls falling as clothing was cast aside, leaving vulnerability far deeper than flesh could hold. Scars showing, even the ones never mapped in blood. After this, her body would harbor no more secrets and neither would his soul. He eased her back on the mattress, followed her down.

Long soft sweeping caresses as he trailed open mouthed kisses down her throat and across her chest. His hands settled on her breasts, her nipples hardening under his palms. He followed with his lips, sucking sharply, and then laving the sting away with his tongue.

She reached for him, drawing her palm along his length before gently wrapping her hand around him. He allowed his fingers to trace a path across her stomach. So eager, she was already wet for his touch. He found her apex, stroking the cluster of her nerves, trying to find the rhythm of her pleasure. Seeing her eyes roll back, her knees rising from the bed, her face tracing a silent scream as a moan of purest want rose from her.

His head dropped back. The friction was becoming unbearable as he hissed softly, withdrawing her hand, needing for this first time together to be within her. His body throbbed with the need to bury himself inside her, to feel her soft flesh yield to him, her body accepting him. The traditional position because he needed the intimacy of her eyes, her gaze. To be over her, to protect her, shelter her, hide her from all eyes but his own. He could no longer stand a distance between them.

Maybe I'm crazy and I'm losing my senses

Maybe I'm possessed by a spirit or such

Maybe I'm desperate and I've got no defenses

Can you get me a prescription for that one perfect touch

Heat against wetness and he paused at her entrance, a thousand questions and he was lost in her eyes. Was this okay? Could he be what she wanted? Broken as he was, could he be enough? Her eyes shining back only warmth, acceptance and what he hoped against all instinct was affection.

The moment was raw and carnal, etching itself in his mind forever. One sharp thrust, a twist of his hips and he buried himself in her to the hilt. Gasping, grimacing at the intense pleasure, he stilled, giving her body a moment to adjust. No fear as her fire raced in his blood, intoxicating him. Wet and hot and tight as she began to writhe beneath him. He wrapped one of his hands under her neck so he could stroke her nape, the other under her hip to mirror her movements. Her small hands dug at his shoulders, urging him on.

She gave an uninhibited cry as he thrust forward again, rolling his hips in the cradle of her embrace. Never close enough, never deep enough, there could never be enough for him to truly sate his hunger for her. The harsh sounds of their breathing going ragged, the soft sounds of their pleasures growing louder with every movement.

Is this a blessing or is it a curse

Does it get any better, can it get any worse

Will it go on forever, is it over tonight

Does it come with the darkness, does it bring out the light

It's a stairway to heaven or a subway going down to the pit

He could feel the spasms start within her, rolling one after the other, stronger, and faster as her back arched higher, lifting them both, her eyes never leaving his. He gritted his teeth, holding on, determined to witness what pleasure he could bring her. His name on her lips, cried out in full throated passion, a promise, a warning, a pledge of blood and fire and spirit beyond anything he had ever dreamed possible. A miracle he'd never dared to ask for, would never feel worthy of.

It took him to the edge, a different fall than he had ever known. Desperately rocking against her, riding out the shivers of her desire as the last thread of his control snapped, his release burning through him. The crushing fear faded in the knowledge that she would always catch him; hold him to her even as he flew apart. A new addiction, as potent as breathing and just as necessary.

I don't know what it is but it just won't quit

He was spooned against her back, an arm possessively around her waist, smirking at the ghost of a love bite over her jugular vein. Careful not to wake her, he drew her closer, hiding from the dawn in her hair.

The morning would be difficult. He could not be her boyfriend, lover, potential husband. The qualifications, limitations or expectations of any of those labels were unbearable to him. Nothing he couldn't uphold, nothing he would feel unworthy to judge her against. What she was to him; hope, intimacy, both a hunger and sustenance had no title. Would she need him to find one? Could she accept him without one? Had she really seen him well enough to understand that all he could offer her was all that he was? Could she find a way to be happy with only that?

Her even breathing under his touch was almost hypnotic, but sleep eluded him. One hunger sated, but another born in its wake. To keep her safe, to keep away anything and anyone who might harm her. His presence in her life was more risk than she should ever face, but he was far too selfish and greedy to let her go now. She deserved far better. How long until she figured that out for herself?

There was a time when nothing ever really mattered

There was a time when there was nothing I didn't know

There was a time when I knew just what I was living for

There was a time and that time was so long ago

And I never really sleep anymore