Dance With Me, Darling {A Sherlolly Fanfic} (Wattys 2017)
  • Reads 3,233
  • Votes 81
  • Parts 10
  • Time 1h 47m
  • Reads 3,233
  • Votes 81
  • Parts 10
  • Time 1h 47m
Complete, First published Dec 22, 2016
For one to uncover secrets this deep, they must shatter the evil from within.

A façade was all Sherlock was living now. When he gets wind of a masquerade ball being held in Moriarty's memory, he thinks it'll be no different than what he has been doing after his infamous fall. 

But a one-man operation was just suicide. He had no one to turn to if he wanted to keep them safe, but...maybe a certain pathologist of his had a way around that.

A/N: This is set after Reichenbach. My friend @HoneyButterYum came up with the title and description and my friend @myfirstnameisagent came up with some elements of the plot. I don't own Sherlock Holmes or Molly Hooper or anything else from BBC Sherlock. All rights go to the creators and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

If you are reading this story on any other platform other than Wattpad (excluding websites like fanfiction.net and AO3--in that case please contact me immediately so I can deal with the plagiarism.) you are very likely to be at risk of a malware attck. If you wish to read this story in it's original, safe form, please got to jackskellingtonrulz5's Wattpad page. Thank you.
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S⃞   h⃞   e⃞   r⃞   l⃞   o⃞   c⃞   k⃞    H⃞   o⃞   l⃞   m⃞   e⃞   s⃞    x⃞    F⃞   e⃞   m⃞   a⃞   l⃞   e⃞    O⃞   C⃞ Ivy Liu takes a slow drag of her cigarette, watching Sherlock with those sharp, unblinking eyes that seem to see too much. She steps closer, her voice low but piercing, as if each word is a scalpel cutting through the layers he's wrapped around himself. "You wear your intellect like armor, Sherlock, but even the sharpest mind can't hide the fractures underneath. You think the world is a stage and you're the only actor that matters, but the truth is, we're all performing for someone, even when we're alone. You create this facade of apathy, of superiority, because it's easier than admitting that the void you feel isn't invincibility-it's emptiness. You can solve a thousand cases, but in the silence of your own mind, when no one's watching, you'll have to face the one puzzle you can't crack: yourself. And what terrifies you most isn't that no one understands you-it's that someday, someone might." Her gaze lingers on him for a moment, reading his silence before turning away, her words settling like dust in the empty space between them. DISCLAIMER!!!!!: (I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE SHERLOCK CHARACTERS NOR THE BBC SHERLOCK CHARACTERS AND PLOT. I DO NOT OWN THE ARTWORK DISPLAYED IN THE COVER OF THE STORY. I ONLY OWN MY OC.)
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[Sherlock x Female OC] The thing is, there is an empty, gaping hole at the base of John's throat where his overwhelming guilt and periodic bouts of torturous grief used to be. It would be so easy to... to be angry and punch a hole through the wall, through the foam of his pillow -- drive his fist through Sherlock's heart. But he remembers; in the most tragic and inopportune of fashion, remembers how angry he had been when Sherlock had jumped, how furious he had been at his funeral, and how it hadn't stopped him from breaking down at his grave nonetheless. The thing about his anger is this: it does nothing but leave him behind in the end, a bundle of nerves and frailty in his bones and an unsteady sway to his gait. It does nothing at all, but reduce marginally the constant, suffocating oppressiveness of his days bleeding into one another with a burst of adrenaline. The thing about his anger is this: it doesn't give him back Sherlock. So he gets a new flatmate- a woman named Holland. They were great friends at school and in fear he would be lonely again after Sherlock died he started to meet up with her, and soon, she moved in with him. They're just friends, though. No one could have a bond with John like Sherlock did. Sherlock was his best friend. But then Sherlock returns, and John is more furious than ever at him. Also, Sherlock and Holland seem to bond quite well, which is something Sherlock finds too complicated to explain itself.
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'He sees everything, she sees a human, I see an opportunity.' Sherlock has convinced them that he is incapable of humanlike qualities; that, even if he wanted to, he would be unable to show his affection towards her or towards them. He chooses to be this way to keep her protected. To keep them all protected from his demons and his payments long overdue. But when he defies his own intentions, the demons climb down from their perches to take the payments they're owed. They merge together to form the face of a dead man, one Sherlock had been certain was coming for /him/. But its never been him. All along, James Moriarty has been Molly Hooper's demon. Sherlock can't simply de-humanise himself now. It's far too late; they have both found themselves caught within the web, the next move they make will strum a thread. And the thread will beckon the spider. All this time, he thought caring was a disadvantage. When really, caring keeps you alive.