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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Collar
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Published:
2025-03-03
Words:
356
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
3
Kudos:
8
Hits:
108

Reflection

Summary:

Sherlock is haunted by certain reflection in the mirror.

Work Text:

He stares at the mirror. Something else stares back. The uncertainty taunts and curiosity kills. Cracks form themselves on the thin glass. Something about that charms Sherlock. He reaches out with his hand, going across and feeling with his fingers— admiring. His gaze returns to reflection. There was the hand at the same place as his. They touch, interconnect, but not quite. For Some time, they just observed each other. There was something about the silhouette. Dark circles under its eyes, messy long curls, hard, tired stare with those almost silver-like steel eyes.

Uncertainty taunts and mocks, but curiosity kills, killing? Killed.

Crack. Sherlock felt the grasp on his hand. The panic raised in his chest like an electrical shock, wiring his whole body with fear—paralysing horror. With considerable effort, he managed to raise his eyes. The mirror was wrenched into pieces, and here was it. It bent down further to Sherlock, to his ear.

"When you go across, end him," it hissed in a hoarse voice—hoarse from possible screams, desperate scratching, and scraping in attempts to free itself. Sherlock didn't understand why he had that knowledge. He just did.

The creaking of the door made Sherlock turn around. When he returned his gaze, he faced his own reflection.

 

“Sherl, are you okay?” A soft, concerned murmur was heard from the doorframe. The floor creaked slightly under careful footsteps. A man’s hands rested on Sherlock’s shoulders, pulling Holmes into a comforting embrace.

“It’s already late. You should rest,” Jim whispered into his ear while giving him a reassuring kiss on his cheek. Sherlock leaned in closer to his touch, lingering a bit longer for a moment, allowing his body to come to peace. He will not tell Jim about this.

 

Soon, Sherlock allowed Jim to pull himself out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom, leaving the mirror behind. He would not tell Jim why he was there. He would not tell Jim what he saw. He would not tell Jim what the figure told him.

 

The mirror painted itself in patterns, forming a thin line of cracks.

It was him all alone

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