Meme Threads

[combatdoc]

If we've started a thread on a meme and you'd like to continue it here instead of in bakerstreet or wherever, then we can do that here.  I'll post headings and links to the specific thread below.

Comments

TFLN Meme

[combatdoc]

Yeah, that's not really reassuring. I think the last time you told me you had everything under control we ended up running through the sewers while being shot at by bank robbers.

TFLN Meme

[combatdoc]

I never really expected her to.

Calm You Down meme

[combatdoc]

[John never really considered his PTSD to be that big of a deal, which is probably why he'd stopped therapy for it as soon as he conceivably could. It just seemed pointless to sit there in a room with someone who didn't really know him and talk about things like getting shot at or shooting at others or watching men he'd served with die. Yes, it happened. And yes, his brain had given him a psychosomatic limp and put a tremor in his hand, which John considered unfair of it because he was fine really.

He didn't jump at loud noises or flashback when there were fireworks like some of those in his unit did. He could shoot his service weapon with a steady hand and not feel traumatized or remorseful afterwards. He'd seen a man get blown up in front of him, was wrapped in semtex, kidnapped, tied up, handcuffed, and it never really made him panic, or at least not more than your average person would panic in that situation.

But every so often he'd dream. Dangerous dreams of gunfire and dry, desert heat, and faces that seemed to melt and distort in the sun. Everything was too bright and searing to his eyes and it was loud and chaotic and stole the breath from his lungs. And sometimes he'd wake up gasping. He'd jolt awake too fast and bolt from his sheets, covered in sweat and sobbing as whatever it was that panicked him so much receded into his subconscious.

And then there were the few times he didn't wake up fast and found himself in a corner of his bedroom with his gun in his hand, shoulders pressed hard against the wall, his leg buckling in agony, and those were the times that scared him into going back to therapy. It hasn't happened since he moved to Bakerstreet, and John thinks that some part of him must interpret the soft sounds of Sherlock puttering away at his experiments or idly stroking the strings of his violin at night as 'safe'.

He did warn Sherlock when he first moved that he might have night terrors and not to stand too close if he wanted to wake him, but that turned out to be unnecessary. The rare time John has nightmares it only takes a quiet vocalization of his name to come out of it.

Just not this time.]