It's a dream! {hehehe domestic verse s'il vous plaît uwu }
screaming. noise and pain and screaming, and it’s ringing through his ears as if his head is being smashed against big ben ( the bell, not the tower. the tower isn’t actually called big ben. ) screaming and pain and noise, and oh so much of it his. ;i; ;the pain; echoing through his bones like a memory so distant yet too close and too recent and too ;;ii;; ;;the screaming;; partly his, partly that of those around him as he ;;;iii;;; ;;;the noise;;; whispers. whispers that curl into his ears, lay poison, kill his mind, make him beg; whispers that make his skin crawl, his heart burn, his fingertips tingle.oh, it hurts.it hurts.how i’ve been beaten down.how my name has been blackened.how i’ve been crushed underthe toe of your boot.would you care to explain,soldier,how you have forced me so low? the blood, dripping from his lip like a faucet not turned all the way off. it’s one last vital scream in a futile attempt to crush fear but
[ there’s sweat coating his brow, glistening in the smashed shards of moonlight filtering in through the curtains. the blood dripping from his lip like a faucet not turned all the way off from where he’s bitten down on it, trying to gain purchase, to bring himself to the surface. ] [ his eyes finally tear themselves open, and he’s in front of them. jim. and all at once, he’s glad, and not. because jim’s there, but jim was there before, too. amidst the screaming and the hot, red, pain of the dream, jim stood, like the psychopath sherlock’s always known him to be. nonetheless, he stares, post-kicking, screaming haze between sleep and life, at the difference between death and life that lies next to him. ] “ …j-jim… ”