Work Text:
It’s not just a shade of blue; it’s two. One is a deep, dark blue; not black, but close enough if it ought to be. The other is a shade or two lighter, almost blending in with the darker hue-almost unrecognizable if not focused on. These blues made up one of the most iconic and sentimental items to ever wind up in someone’s dresser; although that someone might disagree with being sentimental.
o-o-o
It’s as if it was made for him and him alone; it fit snugly around his neck, complemented the pallor of his skin, and kept him warm enough on those too-cold days where nothing-and nobody else-could.
Even though this certain man ran about the city chasing crooks, cabbies, and consulting criminals (oh my!), it always stayed in its place; never torn, never lost. It is, however, a tad bit old and worn. Old in terms of years (five to be exact), and worn in terms of tens and hundreds of washings. Now you may think it wouldn’t need so much of a washing, but you wouldn’t want dead man’s (pig’s on occasion) blood to stay on it, now, would you?
o-o-o
As always, there’s an exception to most things. As aforementioned, it was never lost and stayed with this man most of the time; however, there were times where it was deliberately left behind, and sometimes it ended up on somebody else’s neck. Twice it ended up on the neck of the man’s sole colleague friend. It fit perfectly and kept his friend very warm just as well. Since then, it was its duty to keep both men warm and comfortable; although sometimes, they do a better job of keeping warm themselves.
Another exception would be that it was left behind unintentionally, for the first (and hopefully last) time.
It stayed on the man’s neck, damp and shades darker than it should be. Not for long, however, since it was removed to be put away in a tiny box, to be forgotten forever. But that was not to happen; the man’s friend had kept it and in return, it had kept him ever since.
o-o-o
“No...No...Where on earth did I put it now?” a frustrated groan comes from the sitting-room. Many-a -furniture has been turned over here and there, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Oh sod it, I’ll be late.” With a huff, the search is abandoned. A man turns to leave without the thing he’s been looking for, and heads to the door when he hears a small creak. Alarmed, he prepares himself for whatever may have made that sound, and turns slowly.
All he sees is blue.
One is a deep, dark blue; almost black, but close enough.
The other is a shade or two lighter, standing out now that he’s closer than he could ever remember.
And the third is an icy blue that either elicited unpleasant shivers or foul tempers; a blue he never thought he would see again.
But here it is.
“Thank you for keeping it safe, John...”
With that, everything blurs and all he could see is blue- and that’s alright.
He’d rather see those blues than not at all.