anarion | Fic: Another blink in time

Here comes the first chapter of 'Another blink in time'. Hope you like it. No Sherlock yet, but he will come. Soon. :)

Title: Another blink in time
Author: anarion
Words: 1180
Warnings: angst, dark thoughts, thought of suicide (briefly)
Pairings : Sherlock/John eventually
Beta: the wonderful

verityburns
Disclaimer: Sadly the characters are not mine and no money is made (that would be sooo cool!).

Prologue here

Chapter One

John pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He was sitting on his hospital bed, waiting for the doctor to sign his release papers. Of course the doctor asked him how he was doing. John just huffed because he felt so many levels of frustration right now, he wouldn’t even know where to start. Weren’t you supposed to feel relieved and happy after finding out what was missing your whole life? Why wasn’t he?

There were so many contradicting impulses in his brain all the time: he wanted to punch someone in the face (preferably that doctor or the nurse who kept poking him), slam his head in the nearest wall or curl himself up and cry. None of this was him, this was not how he used to handle a crisis. What was wrong with him?
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The first few weeks after he woke up in the hospital were terrible. He was sure he was going crazy. There were people in his mind, a lot of people, constantly talking to him, forcing him to remember things he didn’t want to know. He felt like he was losing himself to them. He never felt so confused, alone and in pain before. It was a good thing that they took his gun because he might have shot something, someone or even himself. Though, ironically, dying seemed to be no solution to his problem.

Since the accident John’s sleep was no longer dreamless, so sleeping became a serious issue. Now he dreamt and he feared every one of those dreams.
It always started with the attack, with shooting and shouting and blinding light and everything happening way too fast. Then all at once it slowed down and went quiet.

And then the memories came. Memories of lives he lived before, happy lives and sad lives, short ones and long ones, lives filled with laughter and companionship and lives filled with tears and solitude, lives filled with pain and fear and lives filled with hope and love.

There was a constant in these lives beside John. A person that looked different each time, but whose core was the same. Someone the being named John in this life loved with all his heart and all he had.

And sometimes there was evil.

John, who always had been a quiet and nearly immobile sleeper, now often woke up screaming or crying, tangled in his sheets. For no matter how wonderful life was, in the end it was about parting and losing.

There were a lot of revelations and first times.

The first time he remembered making love to a man led to a minor sexual identity crisis because –holy crap- did he enjoy that or what?

The first time he remembered being a woman led to a major identity crisis in general.

Eventually John realised that it didn’t really matter. Souls are genderless after all and he was in love with the person behind the flesh whatever form that took. He discovered that it was all fine. The body is just the vessel.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

After a while the flood of memories died down and there were nights where his sleep was deep and without dreams, which his body desperately needed, to recover. The memories stopped being too bright, too present and faded into the background until they were like distant childhood remembrances.

John spent whole days alone in the garden of the hospital, going through the memories, trying to make sense of them, figuring out some kind of timeline, and –most importantly – trying to find a meaning in all this. He wasn’t sure he believed in reincarnation, he never really thought about what might happen to his soul after he died.

What he finally came up with was: Souls are reborn. Usually people don’t remember being reborn. For some reason John did, as did the other constant, his partner throughout the times. And – this was where he started to feel like he was in a bad movie – there was evil. Evil personified. It tried to destroy them whenever it found them. Sometimes it succeeded. These were the memories that made John refuse sleep for nights on end, for he had the feeling that he could not endure this one more time. It was unbearable.

But – aside from the possibility that he was, in fact, going crazy – that seemed to be the only explanation. Souls being reborn. This however did not explain why he would remember his previous lives. And if memory didn’t deceive him, he always had remebered. As had the other... person? Being? His soulmate? God, he sounded like a lovesick teenager.

But he/she was there, a constant in nearly every memory. The ones where he/she was missing were the worst. After having these John woke up shivering, screaming or crying and clutching his pillow. The pain in his leg and shoulder were worse than ever and his hand was shaking so badly he had to cradle it to his chest with his other. But the pain was nothing compared to how he felt inside.

Sometimes he sat there and giggled helplessly at his own thoughts. Reborn soulmates and an evil mastermind... Maybe he should write a book.
And sometimes he just buried his face in his hands and thought that going crazy was not that bad an alternative.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________

The doctors called his condition PTSD, but John knew better. Of course there was no way he could explain to them what really was going on.
So when they released him, they made him see a therapist.

The therapy was bad, mostly he just sat there and stared into empty space. How do you explain to your therapist that you did not only see your current life flash before your eyes while you were dying, but all the previous ones as well? Right, you don’t!
She said he had trust issues and wanted him to write a blog. John snorted at that. Sure, welcome to my crazy online parlour where I talk about soulmates, reincarnation and the possibility of suicide.

He moved to a little flat the army offered temporarily for decommissioned officers, which was driving him crazy. He felt completely lost there, with no one to talk to, and often sat on his bed in the dark room full of despair for hours, his thoughts going in circles.

How was he supposed to find the other? What if this was one of those times where they would not find each other? John was pretty certain that he would not survive feeling like this any longer. What if evil found him first? Or found the other one without John being there to help? Maybe he already did?
At this point John always had to bite back his tears. He knew that if he broke down, if he allowed all this despair to pour out, he would not be able to ever stop again.

So he pulled himself together, picked up his cane and went out. Maybe he didn’t have to find the other, it might be enough to let himself be found.

Next chapter here

.

Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: Iron and Wine

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_stolendreams_ referenced to your post from Tuesday, 3rd May, 2011 (http://holmesian-news.livejournal.com/113515.html) saying: [...] by (Holmes/Watson, Mycroft/Lestrade | NC-17 | BBC) Another blink in time (1/?) [...]

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Ooh! What an auspicious start. I can't wait to see what happens next. Thanks for fixing the link.

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Fic: Another blink in time - (1/9)

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