Title: Skeletons
Author: flawedamythyst
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 57712 words
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Canon Implied Character Death
Verse: crossover Sherlock BBC/Nightmare Before Christmas(could be spoilery)

Author's summary: Sherlock's refusal to talk about his past hides far more skeletons than John could ever have guessed at. Halloween-esque AU.

Actually a fusion with another (well-known) fandom, but I feel that knowing which in advance spoils some of the story, so I have put it behind a spoiler-cut in the End Note. I don't feel it's necessary to have knowledge of that fandom to read this fic.


Reccer's comments: This was included in a recent 'Open Rec' weekend, but since it's now complete I wanted to rec it again here with a bit more detail.

I love all of this author's stuff. Her characterisation of Sherlock is very true to my own view of him. The author deftly balances staying true to Sherlock's personality while showing his very human side as well.

When John first moves in, Sherlock is adamant about one thing in particular: No celebration of any holidays inside the flat: no cards, no decorations, no mention of the holiday at all. John thinks, well, that's a bit odd, but okay, it's Sherlock, whatever. Things get a bit more strained between them when Sherlock continues to refuse to divulge anything about his past, even as their relationship starts to deepen. John tries to take it in stride, figuring there must be a good reason for all of it.

There IS a good reason for all of it, which is foreshadowed by a certain character(from that other fandom) showing up at their flat on Halloween, looking for Sherlock, Mycroft... and the skull.


There's quite a bit of light-hearted humour and fluff, but also some angst as well... and, of course, Johnlock :D  The ending is very satisfying indeed. 

“What?” asked John, now completely flabbergasted. “Seriously, not any holidays?”

“Not any of them,” said Sherlock. “Let me be as clear as I can. Not Valentine's Day, not Easter, not Halloween, not Guy Fawkes' Night, not Christmas, and not New Year's Eve. And none of smaller ones, like April Fools or St. Patrick's Day, and none of the ones from other cultures and religions: Diwali, Hanukkah, none of that. I don't want any of it in here – no decorations, no cards, no presents, nothing.”

John kept staring but Sherlock had gone back to his paper, apparently assuming the conversation was over. “Not even Christmas?” asked John eventually.

“Especially not Christmas,” growled Sherlock, turning the page with a furious rustle. “If there's even one hint of tinsel in here, John, I will be forced to move out.”

“Oh, come on,” said John, “you can't seriously expect me to-”

Sherlock cut him off with a glare. “I've already stated exactly what I expect,” he snapped. “If you can't indulge me in this one thing, John-”

“As opposed to indulging you in your whims to keep body parts in our bloody kitchen?” shot back John, waving at the kitchen. “Those eyeballs don't even have a lid on them!”

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. “A compromise, then,” he said. “I will keep body parts covered, and you won't celebrate holidays in our flat.”

John hesitated. Was that worth it?

Sherlock let out an irritated hiss. “I will also avoid playing the violin between midnight and six am,” he added.

“Seven am,” said John immediately.