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History Written on Skin by Marta
Fandoms: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
23 Jan 2019
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Summary
Watson had let his arm fall while I was deep in those thoughts, and now the hand not resting on my hip was mapping other parts of my body. He wrapped his hand around my forearm, over the discolored skin from an acid burn, a relic of my university experiments. Then with his forefinger he tapped the uglier needle-pricks along my wrist, the price of a 7% solution. Caressed the well-healed knife wound on my shoulder, acquired in Surrey when I had only Hopkins for company but stitched by my doctor's own hand.
I’d told him the stories behind each of these marks and others in moments like these, willing ablutions for the mischief I’d gotten into when he wasn’t there to watch over me. But some tales remained untold, the scars a testimony to the confidences we have still to share. And my Watson, my Boswell, is of course the master when it comes to words and story-telling, but I do love bearing my past to him like this. So I was not so surprised when he grasped at my thigh, pulling my leg against my chest so he could better see the puckered skin some six inches beneath my knee.