The Pieces That Fall to Earth

by Itsallfine

Summary:

John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most.

An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete.

(This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.)

Notes:

• For darcylindbergh, LeslieWrites.
• Translation into Português brasileiro available: The Pieces That Fall to Earth - Português Brasileiro by orphan_account
• Translation into Русский available: The Pieces That Fall to Earth / Обломки, падающие на Землю by redheart_wr
• Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [授权翻译] The Pieces That Fall to Earth/尘埃落定 by HEALme, likeforyoutobestill

This fic pretends that John’s therapist was just a therapist, he was never shot, and the events of TFP never happened. We pick up after The Hug Scene and get on with our lives. TST and TLD are taken mostly at face value, even though that’s not how I actually read the show. A few important notes about this fic:

I’m assuming Sherlock’s birthday is January 6th as it is in canon and that Mary was around 8 months pregnant at the end of series 3, which would place Rosie’s birthday at the end of January/beginning of February. The rest of the timeline for S4 is so goddamn fucky that I’m just making it up based on vague notions of Rosie's age and the seasons passing. So, I hereby arbitrarily decree that Mary died in July of 2016 and TLD ended on Sherlock’s canonical birthday, January 6th. So, as of this point in time Mary has been dead for roughly 6-7 months. I make no claims about the validity of this information.

EDIT: Uh, about the timing. Everything is off by a year, and I didn't notice until I was most of the way through the fic. So. Mary died in 2015 and this fic takes place in early 2016. Oh well! My b.

Any time you see (...), that’s the little ellipsis that pops up when the person you’re texting with is typing. When I use it in this story, it represents those nerve-wracking moments when the person you’re texting with starts typing, then stops and doesn’t say anything, so the ellipsis pops up, then disappears with no new message to follow. I hate that.

Gifted to Darcy & Leslie, two friends I so appreciate, in honor of their beautiful epistolary fic between each beat are words unsaid. Grateful hugs to my super fast beta and friend, ladymacphisto.

Title is taken from this poem by Kay Ryan.

Chapter 1: Text thread with Sherlock on January 15th

 

sent / 19:47   
I see you changed your name in my phone. Ha bloody ha.

Sherlock is a genius / 19:48
I strive for accuracy in all things.

Sherlock is a genius / 19:48
I changed the photo too, in case it escaped your breathtaking powers of observation.

sent / 19:49    
I liked that photo, berk. You really do hate that hat, don’t you?

sent / 19:49
And I’m making a slight alteration to your name. For the sake of accuracy.

sent / 19:50    
Did you get my letter?

Sherlock is an idiot / 19:55
Yes.

sent / 19:55  
Have you read it yet?

Sherlock is an idiot / 19:56   
Not yet.

sent  / 19:57
I know it’s weird, me writing to you like this, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d read it.

sent / 19:57  
It’s been two days. Why haven’t you?

Sherlock is an idiot / 20:00  
(...)

sent / 20:02
What is it, Sherlock? You can say.

sent / 20:03    
If you don’t want to read it for some reason it’s

typing...
No actually I think you need to read what I have to say, please, there’s so much we need to

sent / 20:03
It’s fine.

Sherlock is an idiot / 20:04
It’s not that.

Sherlock is an idiot / 20:04
(...)

Sherlock is an idiot / 20:05
(...)

Sherlock is an idiot / 20:07
The last letter I got from you...

sent / 20:07
Oh god.

sent / 20:07
No, it’s nothing like that, I swear

sent / 20:08
I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think of that

sent / 20:10
We'll just add that godforsaken letter to the list of things I have to apologize for

sent / 20:10
It’s a long list

sent / 20:12
...Sherlock?

Sherlock is an idiot / 20:12
Reading now.

sent / 20:12
Oh. Okay, sorry. I’ll leave you alone.

sent / 20:13
When you finish just

typing…
Will you pleas

sent / 20:14
Never mind

sent / 20:14
Good night, Sherlock

sent / 20:15
See you tomorrow

Sherlock is an idiot / 20:27
(...)