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Every Word Scribed

Title: Every Word Scribed
Author: ciaranbochna 
Characters:
Sherlock,
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the world.
Length: 285 words
Rating: PG
Summary: The Words don't always come off...
Warnings: References to weight
A/N: This is for caffienekitty , who is a brilliant writer, human being, and friend. She also deserves far more than I can give her.

He can feel layers of language built over his skin; the rasp of every word, spoken or silent, as he goes through the day. They coat his skin, shifting and fighting for place over his body. He doesn’t deduce. The words are thrown against him as he enters a room, scrolling over the walls, over the corpse on the floor, through the air—lingering traces of every object, every person that has ever shared the space.

The words don’t always come off. He can bathe in acid and still a word or a sentence remains. There is one special phrase his father used, burned into his upper arm, which he has resigned himself to. The daily work, the murders, simple conversations—all can be undone with water and soap.

There are letters in his peripheral vision that slide like a migraine aura. Those belong to his mother.

Mycroft has warned him about washing too much away, or “deleting.” It doesn’t matter; he can always gain more by setting foot outside the door. He stares at his legs through the distortion in the bath. The newest letters drift up first, swirling on the surface of the water. He draws his nails down his thigh, scrubbing away the detritus of a week. Perhaps he is too thin, but he is certain if he digs, that he will be able to tear the words away. The letters scratch against the inside of his skull, batter against his vertebrae, and pull against his ribs until he hears the bones ossifying.

But if he covers himself anew, the old words won’t rage so much. So he opens the door, puts on his coat begins the assault again.

Comments

( 11 comments — Leave a comment )
caffienekitty
Jul. 6th, 2011 06:38 am (UTC)
Some words never wash away. When we're very lucky, they're the ones we want to keep.

*clings more*
ciaranbochna
Jul. 6th, 2011 03:20 pm (UTC)
That is exactly it.

*HUGS*
poetic_self
Jul. 6th, 2011 07:38 am (UTC)
Oh yeah. Between floating and suffocation (or so it feels to me). Thanks for sharing, that was really unique.
ciaranbochna
Jul. 6th, 2011 03:20 pm (UTC)
Thank you, I am so glad you thought so:)
(Deleted comment)
ciaranbochna
Jul. 6th, 2011 03:21 pm (UTC)
I...thank you. I don't know what else to say--I appreciate you leaving a comment.
(Deleted comment)
ciaranbochna
Jul. 7th, 2011 03:03 pm (UTC)
So true, and thanks:)
mad_teagirl
Jul. 7th, 2011 09:45 am (UTC)
why is everything you write so amazing??

I've told you before but your Sherlock is absolutely perfect. This fits so well with the way the white words appear in the series like that's the way he actually sees things and guh...

can you just always write things like forever? Because my day becomes better instantly when I see that you have.
ciaranbochna
Jul. 7th, 2011 03:02 pm (UTC)
Oh my, well...*shuffles* I am glad I can help your day (and that you enjoy it that much). If I don't write I wouldn't survive, so I don't think you have to worry on that account;)

I cannot seem to stop writing fantasty/magic realism AU's lately. And the idea of language building up on Sherlock in a literal sense just wouldn't leave me--ahh plot bunnies.
samalander_dawn
Jul. 17th, 2011 08:40 pm (UTC)
absolutely and completely yes.

so yes I have no more words
ciaranbochna
Jul. 17th, 2011 09:29 pm (UTC)
Aww, well thank you:)
( 11 comments — Leave a comment )