I'll just leave the crocodile jerky for another night. Thank you, though. It sounds like The Box and Norfinbury were two different flavors of hell. And that does certainly sound more like the Sherlock we know and love.
Like a brother.
[The line is squeezed in between two paragraphs, like he re-read it and clearly thought better of the phrasing.]
He's not so good with patience. Or people. Or much of anything that doesn't involve a mystery. He does try, though. And he's been trying a lot harder for a while now. He wanted to move out for a while, thought it might make you feel safer. I more or less strong-armed him into not doing that. Just so you know he did try to do that for you. I just wouldn't let him. I don't much like my housemate running himself out of the house feeling guilty for something he never did, you know?
Khan from Star Trek is certainly something, though. Don't remember him looking like Sherlock in the films I've seen.
[He means the old Star Trek movies.]
Norfinbury had scarce supplies, as well, so the Meadous has been heaven by comparison on that front. It was a little frozen town in Alaska. We were the only things alive there, everything else has been killed off by radiation. There were these things called anomalies--sort of monster-like creatures that took on all different shapes, usually something that was personal, or some sort of conglomerate of different people all smashed together.
We couldn't eat those, though. Or fight them, really. As soon as they touched you, you'd go unconscious and they'd swallow you whole or drag you away. Your best bet was just to run, get inside a building, and bar the doors and windows until lockdown. That was a sort of curfew. Not sure if you had to deal with that. Bloody inconvenient. If you were trapped outside after lockdown, you'd freeze overnight. There were far too many deaths in far too many ways there.
That's part of what Sherlock's coming from. He'd just died when we turned up here, as well, so that was a bit much to take in.
[John had just died, as well, but he'll leave out mentioning that. Or the anomaly that looked like a woman he'd fallen in love with who'd killed him the first time.]
Our food situation wasn't quite as dire, maybe, just inconvenient. There were a few places that dispensed food. Junk stuff at the convenience store, cafeteria food at the elementary school. Supposedly there was a grocery store with proper food, but I never made it there. Too far out of the way for everything else.
Best, John
11/9 morning (hope this doesn't mess up the new thread too much, I can edit if it does)
[Given the conversation with Sherlock, it takes Mary a couple of days to write back.]
John,
I don't blame you for not wanting to try the jerky. But, I imagine that the places we experienced were two sides of the same coin.
There are four people that Sherlock is very good with: you, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, and me.
[The me was obviously more shakily written than the rest of the list, as if she wasn't sure if she should include herself or not.]
I'm glad you didn't let him move out. You two need each other. That's important and how it should be.
That first day we met here, you asked me who I was. I ask myself that question quite a bit. In fact, I was going through my closet here and I found a few scraps of paper that I wrote a few memories down. I can't call it a journal, since paper and writing utensils were scarce, but within a few weeks of returning from my death, that was a question I started to ask myself often.
I still don't have a good answer to it. But, I hope you and Sherlock will help me to find it.
[John's reply is simple, but it comes from a place of honesty.]
I'm sure I can speak for Sherlock when I say we will do everything in our power to do so, Mary. You're his friend, and I look forward to maybe being your friend, as well.
[Given what had happened the night before, John's assurances mean more to Mary that she can express in a letter. It takes her some time to reply and she has to stay herself from running next door to hug him.]
Dear John,
I am so grateful that you are giving me this chance. I hope we can become friends as well.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
11/7 - evening
I'll just leave the crocodile jerky for another night. Thank you, though. It sounds like The Box and Norfinbury were two different flavors of hell. And that does certainly sound more like the Sherlock we know and love.
Like a brother.
[The line is squeezed in between two paragraphs, like he re-read it and clearly thought better of the phrasing.]
He's not so good with patience. Or people. Or much of anything that doesn't involve a mystery. He does try, though. And he's been trying a lot harder for a while now. He wanted to move out for a while, thought it might make you feel safer. I more or less strong-armed him into not doing that. Just so you know he did try to do that for you. I just wouldn't let him. I don't much like my housemate running himself out of the house feeling guilty for something he never did, you know?
Khan from Star Trek is certainly something, though. Don't remember him looking like Sherlock in the films I've seen.
[He means the old Star Trek movies.]
Norfinbury had scarce supplies, as well, so the Meadous has been heaven by comparison on that front. It was a little frozen town in Alaska. We were the only things alive there, everything else has been killed off by radiation. There were these things called anomalies--sort of monster-like creatures that took on all different shapes, usually something that was personal, or some sort of conglomerate of different people all smashed together.
We couldn't eat those, though. Or fight them, really. As soon as they touched you, you'd go unconscious and they'd swallow you whole or drag you away. Your best bet was just to run, get inside a building, and bar the doors and windows until lockdown. That was a sort of curfew. Not sure if you had to deal with that. Bloody inconvenient. If you were trapped outside after lockdown, you'd freeze overnight. There were far too many deaths in far too many ways there.
That's part of what Sherlock's coming from. He'd just died when we turned up here, as well, so that was a bit much to take in.
[John had just died, as well, but he'll leave out mentioning that. Or the anomaly that looked like a woman he'd fallen in love with who'd killed him the first time.]
Our food situation wasn't quite as dire, maybe, just inconvenient. There were a few places that dispensed food. Junk stuff at the convenience store, cafeteria food at the elementary school. Supposedly there was a grocery store with proper food, but I never made it there. Too far out of the way for everything else.
Best,
John
11/9 morning (hope this doesn't mess up the new thread too much, I can edit if it does)
John,
I don't blame you for not wanting to try the jerky. But, I imagine that the places we experienced were two sides of the same coin.
There are four people that Sherlock is very good with: you, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, and me.
[The me was obviously more shakily written than the rest of the list, as if she wasn't sure if she should include herself or not.]
I'm glad you didn't let him move out. You two need each other. That's important and how it should be.
That first day we met here, you asked me who I was. I ask myself that question quite a bit. In fact, I was going through my closet here and I found a few scraps of paper that I wrote a few memories down. I can't call it a journal, since paper and writing utensils were scarce, but within a few weeks of returning from my death, that was a question I started to ask myself often.
I still don't have a good answer to it. But, I hope you and Sherlock will help me to find it.
Always,
Mary
11/9 - I don't think it should!
I'm sure I can speak for Sherlock when I say we will do everything in our power to do so, Mary. You're his friend, and I look forward to maybe being your friend, as well.
Best,
John
11/9 - late evening
Dear John,
I am so grateful that you are giving me this chance. I hope we can become friends as well.
Always,
Mary