The Fall (A BBC Sherlock Textualization)I hurried out of the cab, and as if on cue my phone rang."Hello?""John." Sherlock's deep voice issued out, huskier than usual."Hey, Sherlock, you okay?" I started to jog to the entrance of St. Bart's."Turn around, and walk back where you came from.""-no, I'm coming in-""-just /do/ as I ask! ...please."I gave up and decided to listen."...where?" I looked around, confused. What was he on about-?I started to walk back. Maybe he needed me here for a plan of sorts. I scanned the area, searching for him."Stop there!" He demanded.This was getting ridiculous. "Sherlock," I said reproachfully."Okay look up, I'm on the rooftop."I turned. I looked up."...oh, God..."Sherlock was standing on the roof of the St. Bartholomew's Hospital. His dark coat and blue scarf twisted endlessly in the wind, and his black shoes hung partially over the edge. His black, curly hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes, his piercing eyes were full of...what was it? It was an emotion that I'd never see
BBC Sherlock - Day TwoAs the sun was just starting to rise on London, Sherlock Holmes lay on the floor of 221B and stared upwards. His legs were propped up on the sofa with his back flat against the floor, his sharp eyes writing notes on the ceiling.Cases: Dundas and Moran.Linking Factors:-Posed blood stains which are mirror images of each other. Purpose: Unknown, possibly symbolic. Motivation: Desire to send a message? Obsessive behaviour? Self-destructive leaving of clues in order to aid the capturing process? Method of manufacturing: Unknown, difficult to pose liquids exactly. Created with a pipette or stencil? Maybe a frozen mould which is then thawed to create the shape? Ask Lestrade for Molly's results on the blood to see if there is evidence of temperature changes.-The cosmetic surgery at the same clinic. Had the two men met?Briefly rolling over to check the notes Lestrade had given him revealed they
BBC SH - Unspoken TruthsThere is no terror comparable to a nightmare.Certainly, terrible things happen in the waking world and they shatter your heart into glassy shards of pain. But after a while the feelings become too big to comprehend. You just feel numb. You tell yourself that you must be asleep, that none of this is real. A simple act of kindness from your brain in an attempt to deal with the dreadful reality. Shh, it says, it's alright, you may be asleep. You may wake up yet . . .Of course you never do, but you can cling to that tiny little notion and use it as your lifeline until your heart settles enough to process the truth. You see that the horror is real. You waver but stand tall. Then you gently let go of the comfort of delusion and take your first step on the road to acceptance.Nightmares have so such sense of mercy. Nightmares worm black tendrils deep into the heart of you and find the piece that hurts the most, curling around it and whispering treacherously that this is your reality now.