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Time is Running Out for Absolution	By : StargateFanatic Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes Views: 1483 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-Time is Running Out for Absolution
- 1
Hi all. I know I've been away for a while, but you wouldn't believe what all's going on in RL. >_<
--
Time is Running Out
I think I'm drowning
Asphyxiated
I wanna break this spell
That you've created
You're something beautiful
A contradiction
I wanna play the game
I want the friction
You will be the death of me
Yeah, you will be the death of me
When it happened, it wasn’t Holmes that figured it out.
Of course, he had noticed Watson’s more frequent bouts of introspection, but for once, he could not deduce what his friend was thinking about.
Thusly, it had come as a surprise when John had declared his love for the consulting detective.
Holmes hadn’t known how to respond, instead only blinking at his friend for some time, wondering if he was possibly hallucinating. John had stood still before him, unfidgeting and calm.
“I thought you had the right to know,” John murmured. “If you feel you cannot associate with me, I will respect your wishes. But…unless you tell me otherwise, I am not leaving.”
Holmes smirked at the resolution in his friend’s voice, glad that he wouldn’t have to convince Watson to stay; he didn’t want his only friend to leave.
He quietly stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss on Watson’s lips, before wrapping him up in a hug.
“You’ll have to bear with me, Watson, if I get something wrong. I’ve never been in a relationship before.”
A sharp intake of breath was the only warning he had before Watson’s lips were back on his, in a kiss much less chaste than their first.
“You’ll be the death of me, Holmes,” John chuckled breathlessly.
He only smiled and leaned in for another kiss.
Bury it
I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it
Our time is running out
Our time is running out
You can't push it underground
You can't stop it screaming out
From there, their relationship barely changed. Holmes was scared to let things progress from kissing, but Watson seemed to understand, as he didn’t push for anything more.
Well, he didn’t for a week, at least.
“Lie with me,” he breathed against Holmes’s lips.
Holmes tensed. “I’m not—”
“Just lie with me. Nothing more.”
Holmes acquiesced and allowed John to lead him upstairs to his room.
Once there, they both stripped to their underthings and curled together on the bed, legs gently intertwining and heads close together.
John hummed softly in his throat when Holmes leaned forward and reinitiated their kisses. As the soft licks of the palate and gentle sucks and nips of bottom lips turned to hungry devouring of mouths, John pulled back, but not away, and slowed their movements until their kisses calmed. Holmes whined high in his throat, but followed John, unwilling to break away from his lips.
“Easy, old boy,” John whispered. “There’s no rush.”
“Of course there’s a rush. Who knows how long we’ll have to partake in these illegal activities.”
“Very well,” John smirked, rising up over Holmes’s body. His fingers danced and drew and played over the detective’s skin, bringing forth melodies composed of moans and gasps as well as Holmes drew beautiful concertos and arias from the strings of his violin.
I wanted freedom
Bound and restricted
I tried to give you up
But I'm addicted
Now that you know I'm trapped,
Sense of elation
You'd never dream of
Breaking this fixation
You will squeeze the life out of me
Bury it
I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it
Our time is running out
Our time is running out
You can't push it underground
You can't stop it screaming out
How did it come to this?
Oh
Holmes pulled away from Watson’s touch slowly. He had been doing so for the last month, and it had become confusing, since Watson did not know why. He’d expected Holmes to pull away that first night nigh on six months ago.
“Holmes?” he questioned quietly. “What is it? Why do you distance yourself from me? Did I do something to offend you?”
“Of course not, John!”
“Do you wish to…stop…seeing me in such a way?”
Holmes stared at his bed companion, his lover, for long moments, before finally whispering a soft, “No.” He shifted closer and rested his head on John’s chest. “I want you, John, I still do, I swear. I’m just…scared…worried…”
“Why, dear boy?”
“We could be hanged for this, if we were caught or even implicated.”
“We just have to be careful,” John murmured.
Holmes wrapped an arm around John’s middle. “I’ve been trying to distance myself so you’d be safe, but…I can’t. I can’t stop this. I want you too much.”
“I love you, Holmes. That’s all we need. You can’t stop love, yes?”
“Yes. Love you, John.”
They pulled each other close and fell into an uneasy sleep.
Yeah, you will suck the life out of me
Bury it
I won't let you bury it
I won't let you smother it
I won't let you murder it
Our time is running out
Our time is running out
You can't push it underground
You can't stop it screaming out
How did it come to this?
Oh
They were careful. At least…they thought they were. What they didn’t expect was Lestrade and Clarky and another constable to burst into the sitting room, without announcing themselves or knocking, because they needed Holmes for an emergency. What the three men walked in on was harmless, just Holmes and Watson stretched out on the settee. But they had been kissing, and with a look of deep regret in his eyes, Lestrade had to arrest them.
They did not fight or struggle. Fighting would get them nowhere, they knew.
Thankfully, they were not thrown in with the other criminals, but instead taken to separate, but neighboring cells.
They would murmur to each other at night, lying as close as they could with the wall between them, whispers of love and comfort, but not assurance, never assurance, for there was never hope in cases such as theirs. They had been caught, and now had to pay the price.
But then, one night a week later, Lestrade came and unlocked Holmes’s cell, who could only stare in disbelief and confusion.
“I’m here to release you, Mr. Holmes. We need your detective skills, so I convinced the higher ups to let you go.” He stepped back and allowed Holmes to exit the cell.
“You’re the one who put me here, Lestrade,” Holmes remarked quietly.
“I had to. If it had been just me coming in your rooms, maybe I could’ve…” He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “I am sorry.”
“It is your job, Lestrade. No one can blame you for that.” He stepped aside and stood expectantly by Watson’s cell door. “Well? What are you waiting for? Open his cell!” Watson stepped forward silently, a resigned look on his face, still in only the dirtied shirtsleeves and trousers he’d worn when they’d been brought in.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes, Doctor. I was only able to get pardon for you.”
“Then I won’t go.”
“Holmes,” Watson murmured softly, his hands covering Holmes’s wrapped around the cell bars.
“I will not leave you.”
“You must.”
“No—”
“You must, Holmes. You are far more important than an old army doctor.”
“No! Never say that, John…” The look of anguish on his face nearly broke Watson’s heart, but he had to continue; he had to do this. For both their sakes.
“But it’s true, Holmes.” He reached his hands through the bars and cupped Holmes’s face, bringing their foreheads together. “I love you, Holmes. Be safe.”
“Don’t make me leave. Please.” His voice was choked with the tears he didn’t want to shed. “I can’t watch you be hanged.”
“Holmes, listen to me.” He placed a soft kiss on those trembling lips. “I love you. Please, for me, go.”
“Mr. Holmes, we need to go ‘fore anyone changes their mind,” Lestrade murmured, reluctant to interrupt.
Holmes finally looked up and stared deep into Watson’s eyes, a single tear escaping and carefully wiped away by surgeon’s fingers. “I love you,” he breathed, his hand gently grasping Watson’s wrist.
“I know, Watson whispered, his tone loving and full of understanding. They came together for a final, heart wrenching kiss before Watson pulled away with a gentle, sad smile. “Go, love.”
As Lestrade ushered Holmes away, Watson turned and sat against the wall, finally crumpling in on himself.
It appeared his time had run out.

Sing for Absolution
lips are turning blue
a kiss that can't renew
I only dream of you
my beautiful
tiptoe to your room
a starlight in the gloom
I only dream of you
and you never knew
Holmes stepped quietly into the cold room, eyes fixed on the body before him. He hadn’t been allowed, thankfully, to witness the hanging that morning. Now, Lestrade had brought him down to the morgue after much pleading.
With hands barely shaking, he reached out to touch the cooling skin of Watson’s face. He could see the light blue tinge of death beginning to cover lips he knew so intimately. Those lips, that face, had haunted his dreams for so long, and now they would haunt his sleeping and waking mind for entirely different reasons.
“Might I have a moment? Alone, please.”
Lestrade merely nodded, “I’ll be in the hall.”
Holmes didn’t watch him leave, but he did wait until the door closed before leaning forward and kissing eternally still lips.
sing for absolution
I will be singing
And falling from your grace
there's nowhere left to hide
in no one to confide
the truth burns deep inside
and will never die
lips are turning blue
a kiss that can't renew
I only dream of you
my beautiful
“Please do not hate me, my dear John. Wherever you reside now, if there is an afterlife and you are watching me, please understand. You must know that I would have rather died with you than live without you. I know it so deeply that there can be no other truth: I will die without you.” He grasped Watson’s hand, bringing the lax knuckles to his lips, and held it to his chest. “You were everything to me. What all else failed to see was not hidden from you. You were my air, my confidant. You were my light in those dark times. I fear I shall fall again without you.
“If I had only paid attention that day, mayhap we would still be in our sitting room. If only…
“Oh, my dear, beautiful John Watson. If only I could bring you back like a fairytale, with only a kiss.” He pressed his brow to John’s unmoving chest and wept.
sing for absolution
I will be singing
And falling from your grace
sing for absolution
I will be singing
And falling from your grace
our wrongs remain unrectified
and our souls won't be exhumed
Absolved, and with vacuous eyes, he asked Lestrade to take him home.
“If you need anything, Mr. Holmes…” Lestrade stumbled as the driver of the cab whipped up his horse.
“What I need, Lestrade, you cannot provide. Unless you can revive the dead or manipulate time, of course.”
Lestrade flushed. “I’m sorry, Holmes, but I cannot.”
“Then, no, I do not need of anything but a few days to myself.”
“Of course.”
As the cab pulled to a stop, Holmes was already leaping out, followed by Lestrade’s parting words of, “You can reach me if I’m needed,” that Holmes merely waved away without comment.
Mrs. Hudson was not in, which made it easier for Holmes to slip upstairs undetected and lock the door.
His eyes immediately drifted to the morocco case on the mantle. “Forgive me, Watson, that I could not and cannot do anything to fix this,” he whispered as he pulled down the case and opened it carefully.
“Forgive me that I cannot save myself the way you’ve always saved me,” as he plucked the syringe and drew from the bottle of seven percent solution.
As he plunged the needle slowly, deeply into a vein, he breathed, “Forgive me, John.”
--
*Songs are "Time is Running Out" and "Sing for Absolution" by Muse
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Time is Running Out for Absolution