The further away from the country they drove, the more John's face fell.
"You like the idyllic façade of the country, as opposed to the industrial grit?"
"Fresh air, sunshine. Lovely scattered farmhouses. Peaceful. If we stayed the night, there would be actual stars."
The meeting was brief. Rather than present a ruse, Sherlock simply informed her that he was investigating her husband's death, due to some inconsistencies in the autopsy report. She didn't ask him for details, and said there wasn't much to tell; she woke up to a cold body beside her.
They didn't stay long. Though the house was comfortable, perhaps even overly-warm to insulate against the chill of winter turned to early spring, Cathleen McNally still frequently tugged the sleeves of her jumper down over her wrists and wore a high lace collar. The oldest child wore similar clothing, with a silk scarf in an elaborate paisley pattern, far too old for her. The younger ones were napping upstairs.
"The vilest, filthiest city alleyway or the smiling, beautiful countryside? Our impressions are misleading. Lonely houses, with large spaces in between... and yet it is always the city that gets the reputation for crime people seek to escape."
Sherlock fired off a text to Lestrade and began the long drive to the rural airport.
"Lestrade arresting her?"
"Dull case. He can continue to pursue it. I have no obligation to do so. I gave him my own insight. If she's still in Dublin, he can collect her."
It never failed. Every time he thought the man callous, Sherlock showed his compassion by appearing even more callous to someone else.
*****
"Do you still want it?"
Sherlock turned, perplexed. "Do I still want what?"
"Sorry. You do it so much, sometimes I still forget that you are not a mind reader. Do you want absolution? For, whatever was weighing on your mind enough to not have made something up in that booth."
"It's hardly necessary."
"Yes, but that's not what I asked. And there is a reason why it's on your mind, I'm sure. Otherwise, you wouldn't bring it to the forefront."
"I... was in a relationship with an older man. An instructor of mine." John had suspected Sherlock was gay when they first met, but had since placed him firmly in the 'I'm not interested in a relationship, and definitely not interested in one with you' category, which was enough to cut off further exploration. Irene was of interest. He had thought Janine was, too, until he had pieced together the whole story, partly from what he had observed and partly from Mary and Janine's friendship. They had never discussed it, he and Sherlock. So. He was gay. Or maybe labels were more suitable for his bespoke suits then for his sexuality. Might have just been a passing phase at Uni. Sherlock Holmes was not one to be satisfied using other peoples data without recreating his own... experiments. John struggled to turn off his internal monologue and focus on Sherlock's actual words and on trying to look nonchalant. "I broke up his marriage. I thought it had been over anyway, but it turns out her discovering his affair with me had been the final straw."
John nodded.
"Father Brian told me I was not responsible for the sins of another. If I was truly worried about Holy Judgment, if I didn't consider the whole thing an absurd fallacy, I'd be seeking out another priest."
"Given I didn't even get a free pass on my sticky fingers, I would suspect he had a good reason for denying you your part in it. And good marriages, where there is love and trust, don't just end if someone pushes from the outside." He doubted the priest would have thought adultery a minor offense, even if you weren't the married one. John's mind raced through possible reasons Sherlock's role was minimized to the point of not requiring any penance whatsoever and landed on one. Coersion. "He didn't, uh, threaten to give you a bad grade if you didn't comply, did he?"
"Oh. Oh, no, John, nothing like that."
"Good. For a minute I thought that..."
"You were wondering why he wouldn't absolve me and you thought it was an issue of consent. No. He said that I couldn't be held accountable for my actions because I was too young."
John's relief was short-lived. "How old were you?"
FILL 3/? Confession (past child molestation)
"You like the idyllic façade of the country, as opposed to the industrial grit?"
"Fresh air, sunshine. Lovely scattered farmhouses. Peaceful. If we stayed the night, there would be actual stars."
The meeting was brief. Rather than present a ruse, Sherlock simply informed her that he was investigating her husband's death, due to some inconsistencies in the autopsy report. She didn't ask him for details, and said there wasn't much to tell; she woke up to a cold body beside her.
They didn't stay long. Though the house was comfortable, perhaps even overly-warm to insulate against the chill of winter turned to early spring, Cathleen McNally still frequently tugged the sleeves of her jumper down over her wrists and wore a high lace collar. The oldest child wore similar clothing, with a silk scarf in an elaborate paisley pattern, far too old for her. The younger ones were napping upstairs.
"The vilest, filthiest city alleyway or the smiling, beautiful countryside? Our impressions are misleading. Lonely houses, with large spaces in between... and yet it is always the city that gets the reputation for crime people seek to escape."
Sherlock fired off a text to Lestrade and began the long drive to the rural airport.
"Lestrade arresting her?"
"Dull case. He can continue to pursue it. I have no obligation to do so. I gave him my own insight. If she's still in Dublin, he can collect her."
It never failed. Every time he thought the man callous, Sherlock showed his compassion by appearing even more callous to someone else.
*****
"Do you still want it?"
Sherlock turned, perplexed. "Do I still want what?"
"Sorry. You do it so much, sometimes I still forget that you are not a mind reader. Do you want absolution? For, whatever was weighing on your mind enough to not have made something up in that booth."
"It's hardly necessary."
"Yes, but that's not what I asked. And there is a reason why it's on your mind, I'm sure. Otherwise, you wouldn't bring it to the forefront."
"I... was in a relationship with an older man. An instructor of mine." John had suspected Sherlock was gay when they first met, but had since placed him firmly in the 'I'm not interested in a relationship, and definitely not interested in one with you' category, which was enough to cut off further exploration. Irene was of interest. He had thought Janine was, too, until he had pieced together the whole story, partly from what he had observed and partly from Mary and Janine's friendship. They had never discussed it, he and Sherlock. So. He was gay. Or maybe labels were more suitable for his bespoke suits then for his sexuality. Might have just been a passing phase at Uni. Sherlock Holmes was not one to be satisfied using other peoples data without recreating his own... experiments. John struggled to turn off his internal monologue and focus on Sherlock's actual words and on trying to look nonchalant. "I broke up his marriage. I thought it had been over anyway, but it turns out her discovering his affair with me had been the final straw."
John nodded.
"Father Brian told me I was not responsible for the sins of another. If I was truly worried about Holy Judgment, if I didn't consider the whole thing an absurd fallacy, I'd be seeking out another priest."
"Given I didn't even get a free pass on my sticky fingers, I would suspect he had a good reason for denying you your part in it. And good marriages, where there is love and trust, don't just end if someone pushes from the outside." He doubted the priest would have thought adultery a minor offense, even if you weren't the married one. John's mind raced through possible reasons Sherlock's role was minimized to the point of not requiring any penance whatsoever and landed on one. Coersion. "He didn't, uh, threaten to give you a bad grade if you didn't comply, did he?"
"Oh. Oh, no, John, nothing like that."
"Good. For a minute I thought that..."
"You were wondering why he wouldn't absolve me and you thought it was an issue of consent. No. He said that I couldn't be held accountable for my actions because I was too young."
John's relief was short-lived. "How old were you?"
"Thirteen."