scarlettswords

[scarlettswords]

-The loss of the baby that never could be.- Is it possible for audible noises to drown out the sounds that are in your head? Vin Hampton considered this errant thought as she sobbed. It was a loud sob, one that came from the heart and the soul and maybe if she just sobbed loud enough then it would all go away. This was ridiculous. Nothing goes away by just wishing. These were the thoughts of a mere child. [Child.] [Baby.] [Daughter.] [Nothing.] There was nothing. How full of /love/ she had felt for this thing that never even had a chance to exist. It was never real and yet she had loved it. This felt like she had lost someone that she loved. Before all of this, Vin had never considered having children of her own. Many times before, she had discussed it with Holmes and they had both agreed that it was impractical for their way of life. In fact, she had a high dislike for children in general. And this was a woman who could barely give up smoking and drinking whilst 'pregnant'... How could she ever make a suitable mother? And yet she had WANTED it. She had grown to want that baby. Their baby. The sobbing got even louder than before and she was very sure that Holmes could hear her but she failed to care because this HURT. Subconsciously, she placed her hand on her stomach. A few hours ago, there had been hope there. Something alive and something exciting. Her child. THEIR child. Little had she known that there was never anything there. Now there never would be. After a while, the sobbing did stop. She just lay there. Numbness consuming her. Her body was feeling very much like an empty shell, hollow and fragile. You never do realise how much you want something until it happens to you; just like you do not realise how much something means to you until it is gone. 'The Thing' never can be and it never was. Her mind trailed over to the sixteen year old girl that she had seen before everything seemed to turn upside down. How was that fair? That girl would certainly not be capable of raising a child any better than Vin could have. It was not fair and yet it was what it was. Nothing she could do would change that. Vin Hampton was never meant to have a child and that was the end of it. She had to desist dwelling upon these thoughts as it was an entirely useless waste of emotional energy. That is what logic dictated; she had to move on. [Move on.] There was no one else to hurt anymore. She didn't have to be careful. There was just herself. [Move on.] The only person she could hurt was herself. No risk of harming The Thing that never was. No harm. [Move on.] Temptation swamped her and her mind whirred with possibilities. [Move on.] To get drunk or not to get drunk... THAT... Is the question. [Move on.] Perhaps drugs shall be better? Stronger. Yes, drugs. No harm can be done. Right? [I cannot move on.]

. . .

{I do not own Vin, she is a Twitter OC. I am just a fan who likes writing stuff. YAY. Go follow her! @VinHampton.}

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~Sherlolly x Les Miserables Parallels~ A letter. That was all it was. Just a letter. But a letter that had sent Molly Hooper's world crashing down around her. Because... There was always hope. Usually. She was that sort of person. An optimist. Especially when it came to Sherlock Holmes. Because... She KNEW. She knew that he was totally blind. Totally blind to the fact that she was completely and irrevocably in love with him. He was blind. And yet still she believed that there was a way for them. Usually. But not anymore. Because with one stupid little letter... Molly Hooper had lost hope. It all started with a woman. A woman called Vin Hampton. Now, Molly had heard of this woman a while back. Sherlock had been mumbling her name in the lab one day and she had questioned who she was. But... It was the way he TALKED about her. Like... She was interesting. The way Sherlock talked about Vin Hampton mirrored the way in which he talked about particularly genius serial killers. Interesting. A woman... Was interesting Sherlock Holmes. And it wasn't Molly. It was never Molly. Truly, Molly Hooper believed that by some miracle, Sherlock might suddenly... Get it. Get that she loved him. Completely. And maybe... Just maybe... He would love her back. But no. That was never to be. Molly Hooper loved Sherlock Holmes. But only on her own. He could never love her back. Without Sherlock Holmes in her world... Everything would seem pointless. Her whole world would just stop turning. No. The world would continue turning... But she would have fallen off it. Yes. That about summed it up. She could not live without Sherlock Holmes in her life. But the feeling was not mutual. Without her... His world would go on turning. And he would still be on it. Living. Learning. Maybe even loving. Because that letter. Okay, so Molly may have creepily tracked down this Vin Hampton... merely because she was curious. But god knows... She wished she hadn't. Because... That LETTER. She couldn't help but read it. It was addressed to Sherlock for crying out loud. HER Sherlock. And it was simply left on the doormat outside the house. Of course she was going to read it. And this is what it said. "Holmes, It's strange. This feeling. It's strange because... I never believed I would actually fall for you. I promised myself I wouldn't ever fall for anyone again. You know why, of course. In fact, you know most things about me. But... I have written this letter because I could not face you in person. I could not tell you this. You would try and stop me. And you would probably succeed. I am leaving. Something urgent has come up and I have to leave the country. Not sure for how long exactly. Maybe forever. I have thought for a while and come to the conclusion that, if I am leaving forever and am never to see you again... Then I must tell you this... I love you. I love you, Sherlock Holmes. God knows what the hell you have done to me. The first time you met me you were totally pissed and smashed a bottle over my head! Regardless. I love you. And I am sorry. Hampton x" The words on the page. All blurred together. This was some sort of joke... Right? I mean... This wasn't real. SHE couldn't love Sherlock Holmes. MOLLY loved Sherlock Holmes. True, Sherlock Holmes did not love her back... But neither did he love Vin Hampton... Or did he? Now that thought made her feel sick. The thought of Sherlock whispering tender words of love to another woman. Words that he would never say to her. Molly felt like... She had lost something. Something so precious and dear to her. WHY?! He was never hers to lose in the first place! But... She still found herself stuffing the letter in her pocket. And at that moment, she did not plan to give it to Sherlock. Ever. . . . How did they get here again? Molly watched, completely stunned, as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson wrestled with a group of drunk, rough looking men. Sherlock had... SAVED her. The men had followed her down this alley. And he had saved her. That could not be right. But it was true. And here she was. Playing and fiddling with that letter. That letter from Vin Hampton in her hands. Watching as one of the men pulled out a gun and aimed it at the back if Sherlock's head. Wait. WHAT?! Suddenly, Molly was reanimated. And that shy, little mouse completely disappeared in one burst of pure desperation. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The letter in her hand. Her shaking hand. Clenched fist. She would not let go of that letter. Pushing Sherlock out of the way. Watching as John punched the man hard in the face. And then a gunshot. And then pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. And then falling. Falling. Falling. Falling. Pain. Pain. Pain. When she opened her eyes, she saw Sherlock's face. And the pain vanished. Because... Sherlock Holmes was holding her in his arms. She couldn't feel anything. Not the bullet wound in her stomach, nor the cold rain that had begun to fall. There was just Sherlock. She smiled. Slowly, Molly lifted her hand up to him. The hand holding the letter. 'This is for you. I kept it from you. I'm sorry.' Crying now. The tears mixing with the ice cold raindrops. But happy tears. Not tears of pain or sadness or guilt. She was truly... Happy. A gentle hand took the letter from her and pocketed it. But he never took his eyes from her face. And she never stopped smiling. 'Molly...' His voice. Her name. Did he know what a good combination they made? Smiling. Smiling. Smiling. Molly shushed him and placed a trembling finger on his lips. Whispering. 'Sherlock Holmes. You think a little fall of rain can hurt me now?' Still smiling. He wasn't. Why wasn't he smiling? She liked it when he smiled. And she was HAPPY... So why wasn't he smiling? His voice again. 'I'm here, Molly.' Smiling. Smiling. Smiling. 'That's all I need to know. Because... You will keep me safe. And you will keep me close. And you know the thing about rain, Sherlock Holmes?' Smiling. Smiling. Smiling. 'It makes... The flowers... Grow.' Raining. Smiling. Silence.

{I do not own Vin Hampton, she is an OC on Twitter. Go follow her for Vinlock. @VinHampton.}

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Aeniglock ~ A Mutual Understanding

{Aenigma's POV}

Love. Caring. Any form of affection towards a person that went beyond simple fondness. I never ever imagined that I would get the chance to feel it. My life is based around my work. I move so quickly that there is simply to time to get attached. That is besides the fact that, if anyone that I ever met cared for me... well, it was not truly me that they cared for. It was the act that I had put on for them. For if they knew me... the real me, they would be horrified. Who could possibly care for a monster such as myself?

And so I ruled out any chance of mutual caring between myself and another, and I carried on with my life as something like a robot; letting emotions fly over my head.

Then I met Sherlock Holmes. The world’s only consulting detective.

I never believed in ‘love at first sight’, or any of that bollocks. I still don’t. However, I knew when I first saw Holmes that I admired him from the off. I admired him for what he had been through and the brilliant man that he had become.

It took a while, I grant you, but eventually that facade that I put on for every person I meet fell away. I started talking as myself. When I smiled at his words, the smile was genuine. I even showed my inner demon to him. The killer that I was born to be.

And he did not flinch.

There I was, standing as /myself/ and there he stood opposite me, with nothing but admiration on his features. No horror. No fear. No doubt. He could see me and he was not running away.

Though I never let it show on my face, his odd acceptance of my true self made my chest feel light. It made my heart pump faster. It made me... happy.

Happy. There is another emotion that I was not familiar with until I met Holmes. Of course, the satisfaction and slight high you get after successfully completing a job, I got that a lot. But never true happiness. But this detective, god knows how he did it, made me beam like the little school girl I never had the chance to be. I found it easy after a while... being myself around him. His presence was relaxing. It soothed the scars, both visible and not, that haunted me from my past.

He became my friend. My first real friend. A person with whom I could share my thoughts and worries and laugh with and... and... I thought that was it, but there was something more. And that something has grown inch by inch since the day we met. Neither of us understands anything about it other than that it is powerful. It is like a magnetic force, pulling the two of us together. We have become one person; so much so that it physically hurts now to be separated.

The weakness that this power brings scares me like nothing I have ever encountered before. But I have come to accept this weakness as one that I can learn to deal with. It is entirely worth it because now I know who I am.

It had escaped my notice that I had lost myself in my life as a weapon. Sherlock Holmes, as he solves many puzzles, solved that for me. I /know/ who I am. I am Aenigma. And one day I shall be free to be his and only his.

~Для вашего любви мой наркотик.~