snowblindrpg | [log] Holding Close to You [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] Holding Close to You [closed]

Characters: Watson and Alfie
Location Building 125
Date: Day 130 (morning)
Summary: Watson and Alfie wake up together after a very long and very difficult ordeal. Neither of them are terribly happy with the other.
Warnings: Brief mentions of the Holocaust.

Passing out suddenly is getting very, very old of late. It's especially getting old when there is a familiar ache in his chest. They'd lost a soldier. Another man had given his life to protect John and everyone else. He hadn't seen what happened to Haurchefant, but the fact that the monster had been so delayed... the elf had saved them all.

He takes a shaky breath when he wakes and there's a warm body next to his own in the dark. In fact, he's clinging to it at the moment, probably some sort of reflexive need for touch and reassurance in his sleep in spite of what horrible conditions might exist. His clothes seem to be dry, so that's either some thanks due to the Admin or he's just dried off overnight. Overnight... here! The basement. Then that means-

"Solomons?" He lets go of what he assumes to be Alfie and hurriedly backs off. John fumbles for his keys and the mini-torch there. His other hand goes instinctively to his fruit knife. Fool me once, Alfie Solomons.

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The word water pierces through the fog, and he uses an elbow to try to push himself into a seated position - failing the first time, but succeeding the second. His fingers scrabble desperately at the bottle, gulping the water down as fast as possible. His eyes are red and bloodshot, but he at least seems mostly alert.

John pulls the bottle back periodically to keep Alfie from drinking too fast. The man hasn't had enough in days and he'll make himself sick. "Easy now. Once you've had that, we'll get you out of here and over to the pharmacy. I can have a proper look at you there and you can have the food I've got left. We'll set you up with some more water, too. Get you cleaned up."

Edited 2016-06-22 04:51 (UTC)

He clears his throat. "Dehydration. A bad case of it, mate." The water from the snow hadn't been enough, and on top of that, he'd been doing a lot of throwing up when the symptoms had gotten bad. "What happened down there? I stopped watching when--"

"Haurchefant led it away. We got everyone else out. People helped navigate us back and the Admin sealed the door. She said she'd regained control, and then I woke up here." It's the briefest summary he's got. He'll go into more detail when Alfie is less... severely not-okay. Maybe when John's a bit less not-okay, as well. He'd put a cap on his emotions down below to deal with it. Some of that's coming off now that the adrenaline and everything else propping him up is gone.

John pulls off his glove with his teeth and lays the back of his hand against Alfie's forehead to check the temperature. "Anything else apart from the dehydration. The other symptoms? Are you still nauseous? Anything else from the radiation?" The radiation that is all around them.

Okay. Not thinking about that just now.

"No." He just feeling very weak - which he isn't incredibly happy about, with Watson around, but if nothing else he almost positive the man won't attack him when he's already down. "Try the doors yet?" he asks, cautiously hopeful.

"Not yet." But he will. "Hold onto this, yeah?" John lets Alfie take the water bottle, himself, and moves toward the trapdoor, mini-torch still in hand. He's rather concerned it's going to still be locked, and he's going to regret letting Alfie guzzle that water, but when he pushes up, it gives.

John breathes a sigh of relief, shoving the heavy door entirely open and letting what meager morning light there is in the tunnels filter into the basement below. "I think you could use a change of scenery, yeah?" Even with the frigid air, it's fresh air. As fresh as anything can get in this place.

He moves back over to his pack, pulls that on, and then turns his attention to Alfie. "Let me know when you're ready to move. I'll help you up and out. Don't push it if you need a bit."

The light is weak, but Alfie still holds up a hand to shield his eyes against it, more out of reflex than anything else. It's been a very dark few days.

"I wanna get out of here." bracing himself against the wall, he gets ready to push up - but a hand from Watson wouldn't be unwelcome.

There's a hand and a body to lean on if Alfie needs it. If he seems at all unsteady on his feet, John will wrap an arm around the other man's waist to keep in stable unless he's shooed off. "Upstairs, then I want you to finish that water bottle before we head for the pharmacy. It's not far, but you should get as much water into you as possible just now. I want to get some food in you, as well."

He is pretty unsteady, and he doesn't shove Watson away; that would be conterproductive, and he wants to be able to move. He gathers up the clothes that John had left with him (including the soaked sweater, though he isn't wild about carrying something so wet out into the cold), clumsily shoves his cloth-wrapped feet into the sneakers, and starts shuffling towards the trap door.

"That thing, yeah; that anomaly. Whatever the fuck it was. Haurchefant killed it?"

"No. He didn't." John will let the implication of that sink in for only a moment before continuing. "But the Admin trapped it away from us. She made sure that what he did mattered to a lot of people. He saved every one of us."

And Alfie will be helped out, then steered toward anything that looks like it will hold his weight for sitting or leaning against. It's just momentary. He'll let the other man catch his breath, finish the water, and then they're getting to the pharmacy.

"Right. Yeah." He's silent for a few minutes, getting used to walking again. It's clearly uncomfortable, and he winces a couple of times, but it gets easier once they've been moving for a little while. He still won't have the strength to walk far, but a quick jaunt to the pharmacy will help work out the stiffness.

"So they didn't pull it apart then, did they?" he asks, finally.

John glances to the side, catches that expression on Alfie's face and has a feeling it only has a little to do with the general physical state of him. In spite of himself, John finds his heart going out to the other man. This is horrible. This is the first time he's seen it be this horrible, probably... almost certainly. John's dealing with his own personal upheaval, with seeing Sherlock and Harry and Mrs. Hudson as a part of that thing. But he's dealing with it by just blocking it off, pouring his thoughts and worries into other people.

Alfie makes an excellent subject for that effort.

"I don't think they could. Maybe after we passed out? It had to have come from somewhere. Try not to think about it, Alfie." It's one of the first times he's used the other man's first name, and it's meant to pull his attention from where it's straying. "I know it's hard, but that thing... it-it wasn't them. Whoever you saw, it wasn't them."

He grunts. It's the same thing he's been trying to tell himself, and it's the same thing he'd had affirmed by a couple people when he'd shouted over the network. He doesn't usually like feeling like he's being fussed over, and this case is no different - but honestly, hearing it said again does help just a little.

It doesn't take away that haunted look in his eyes, though.

"You need some real rest," John continues when the other man doesn't really say anything. He can appreciate the silence, but he'll fill it with soothing words just now. "As real as it can get. I need to check on the others who're in hospital, but I'll get you set up at the pharmacy. We can fetch you coming back north if you aren't already out and away by then. I'll leave you with most of the food I've got left. That water maze ruined a good bit of it, but we'll make do. They should tide you over until you can reach Tifa and Duster.

"If we can move, they can move. Reckon they're on their way already." John falls into silence after this outpouring of reassurance and just walks, propping Alfie up when he needs it and staying close otherwise. The 'I'm not sorry I pulled a knife on you' bit of their last conversation is still in his head, but it's something distantly there. While Alfie's sick and physically weak, though, John doesn't expect he'll be foolish enough to try anything.

They make the pharmacy a little while later. It is quite close, and it appears to be clean when they step in. John moves to prop Alfie up against one of the walls and pulls out a few tins of beans for him before taking his water bottle to the sink for refilling.

"Yeah. Thanks." He's looking forward to the food, and grateful for it - he's not at starving point yet, but it's been long enough that he's extremely hungry.

At the pharmacy, he's content to take the time to rest - sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, rubbing at his knee. The short walk had loosened up his muscles a bit, but without any food to fuel him, it had tired him out. He's not sure how far he can make it today, even after eating. He wants to wolf down the beans as quickly as possible, but he forces himself to go slowly - there's no sense in getting food in him if he's just going to throw it back up, after all.

"Yeah, Watson," he calls out at some point, his voice a little louder than before but still not that much stronger. "Listen. I still need to speak with you, right, about something that just isn't sitting well with me. It's not about that night with the scalpel, because I think we're past that now - but it's important and unpleasant, yeah, so you let me know when you're ready for it." The fact that he's giving Watson an option of when to talk is, in Alfie's mind, a magnanimous gesture - one fitting for the man who's helping him out.

So magnanimous. John is wondering just what it might be and resolves to stay out of easy reach with Alfie while they have this conversation. "Might as well get it out of the way, then. I need to get down to the hospital once you're settled." He's searching the shelves for something like cups that Alfie can use for water. If nothing else, they can just use the left over bean tins. He doesn't expect Alfie is going to be going anywhere with the state of him.

"I've got ears. You're welcome to talk. I'll listen." And he's listening, even if he's rummaging away from the other man, as well.

"Yeah, all right. Take a look a this." Alfie scrolls around his tablet, bringing a recent conversation up onto the screen. He slides the tablet across the floor, towards Watson.

"You tell me if you see my problem, all right? And if you don't, yeah, I will explain."

Well, now he can't keep away. John turns and walks back over to fetch up the tablet and have a look. It's, well, other than him sounding somewhat monotone - it's always odd to hear his voice, especially when he's... a bit shut down like that - there doesn't seem to be anything wrong.

He hands it back to Alfie. "You don't like me talking about World War Two?" He's not trying to be flip. He really doesn't see what's wrong with that.

"I don't like you bringing up what happened to the Jews so easily, yeah?" He puts the tablet away, leaning back against the wall again. "Because I know you know what I am. You wouldn't've made a point of telling me about Israel otherwise. Now-- I have heard about what happens. I was told; I was given a bit of information. But you did not know that, did you. Imagine how that would fucking sound if I hadn't, yeah? If I had no context. Imagine someone comes up to you, Dr. Watson, to tell you about the bright and promising future. And in the middle of that, they choose to drop in, 'Yeah, and the evil fucking Germans stop torturing and killing your people by the millions. Well, that was a nice talk - now excuse me, but I've got to run'."

Alfie raises his eyebrows at Watson. "I don't care who you're talking to, yeah? Me, a stranger, your worst fucking enemy. Have some fucking sensitivity and choose your timing more carefully."

That's actually far fairer than he was expecting to come from Alfie. It's not pleasant, no, but it's entirely fair. For once. "I'm sorry. You're right. I wasn't really thinking. Won't come up again."

And that's about all that needs to be said on that as far as John's concerned. It's a legitimate complaint. He'll take it under advisement and won't do that again. At least he'll try to keep it in mind when he's sort of... emotionally numb and just talking to keep other people calm. "Anything else?"

"Thanks mate, I appreciate the apology. You might pass it along to the other people from my future, because the person who first told me didn't bother to be careful about it either, so it's looking to be a pattern with you people. Now, she has since apologized as well, but that didn't take away the two days I spent in utter terror, trying to work up the nerve to ask around and find out if my family in England would have been slaughtered." That's probably not something he would normally have admitted to, but he wants to make extra sure that he's driving the point home.

"Yeah. Nothing else; that's all."

"I can do that." He'll leave out any caveats or explanations or excuses. Because that's all they'd be. John knows when Alfie is from. The fact that John can be more casual about something that's so far removed from his own time doesn't change what he knows about the other man. He'd warned him about the Blitz. It's something he should have been conscious of.

After a little while of rummaging and still not finding cups, John gives it up. They can just use the tins. He heads back over to where Alfie's sitting. "Are you planning on moving any the rest of the day?"

Alfie sighs. "I'm not gonna be able to start moving north," he says, clearly disappointed. His plans to head tunnelward are continually thwarted. "But there's a house on the map, on the other side of that cellar. It might be a good place to sit for a day and gather my strength. Have you been?"

"No. Only time I've been in the tunnels was a little before this, and that was heading due south." He glances toward the door, then back down at Alfie before crouching down to the other man's level. Even in the dim light, the doctor looks tired, haggard. He's not been in the same dire straits as Alfie, but he's been in his own, many of them emotionally taxing, if not physically. He's worried. For everyone, but especially the man right in front of him just now, even if he doesn't particularly like Alfie or want to hang around with him.

"Are you sure there's any furniture or the like in that house? You might be better off just staying here if it's just empty. Won't have to travel as far to make it back to the entrance, yeah?"

"I know people who have spent time in this area. I'll ask around a bit, find out what it's like." The pharmacy isn't very comfortable, and he would like to get to a place with a mattress - but Watson is right, and he's inclined to stick with the devil he knows if he can't get any more information.

Alfie blinks slowly, eyes focusing on Watson. "You don't look so well yourself, do you."

John nods to Alfie's compromise on the matter. That puts his mind a little more at ease, at least. It would be nice to have an accounting of everything in the different houses. Maybe he can propose people start noting that on the collective maps.

The second comment gets a sigh as John grabs any bean tins that Alfie's used and stands. "I lost a man down there, Mr. Solomons. He made sure there weren't more casualties, but he was still part of my team. It's not a good feeling. We move on. There are other things to mind, and I'd rather not waste his sacrifice dwelling."

He's heading for a break with trying to put everything off for now, but that can... well, it can wait. Certainly that's not happening in front of Alfie, of all people.

That's an attitude Alfie can respect - move forward when you have to, and deal with your feelings only when you have the time and luxury. He lets his eyes drift shut again.

"How did Frisk do at the end of it?"

"Enoch grabbed them along with Quark. They made it back to the room all right. Haven't had a chance to touch base." What with being mildly preoccupied. "Planning to do that while I head down to the hospital, but I'm guessing if I'm back, then everyone else is, too. It'd be nice if the Admin stopped knocking us unconscious when they move us around..." But that's not likely to happen.

Alfie frowns, starting to dig into the second can of beans. "Hope her mum ended up all right. With the way things went, I wouldn't be surprised if some ended up dead, or close to it."

There's a quiet conviction in John's voice as he replies. "You survived, and you were in some of the worst conditions, I reckon. There's no sense worrying, though. Maybe just give her a ring. They're downtown, so they're probably been through that house you're interested in, yeah?

"I'll check in with you later tonight, see where you are and let you know if we found anything that might be able to help. Dunno if we'll be heading north today or tomorrow. Tomorrow's more likely."

"Nah - it's all right. Enough others will be checking up, I expect."

He closes his eyes, wanting to rest just a little bit longer before he moves on. "Sure, yeah. Thanks for the assistance."

"Mm..." It's a noncommittal sound. Alfie's right, but it wouldn't hurt for him to take more of an interest. He's clearly capable of the empathy he was pretending not to have when he first arrived here... worrying after Toriel in the first place.

"Right, then. I'll fill this tin up with water for you. Sink and the loo are right over there." He points toward the restroom. "You can get yourself cleaned up a bit, too. Cold water, but I imagine it's better than nothing just now." He goes over to do that along with filling his own water bottle up. Then, he brings the tin back for Alfie and sets it down nearby him. "I'll be seeing you around, then. I'm still expecting what you've got there to find their way back to the proper owners. Just let me or Fiona know when you've got your own things.

"Thanks again, though. For your help. I know you weren't in much shape to be giving it."

"Yeah. But it worked, didn't it," he says wearily, eyes still shut. "To an extent. Most of us lived to fight another day. To keep working towards a way out."

"It worked," he agrees. "At least give Frisk a call. They'll want to hear you're all right straight from you, I reckon. Keep warm and well-hydrated, Solomons. And call me if you need something. I'll be nearby."

With that, unless Alfie stops him, John will square his shoulders and head for the door. He pauses with his hand on the door, though, holding it open. "You could be a better man if you tried to be, y'know? I can see it there. Guess we've got more pressing matters, though." Return quip or not, he'll leave Alfie with that.

Alfie just snorts derisively, and doesn't say anything in response. That's a conversation for another day.

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[log] Holding Close to You [closed]

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cw: minor Holocaust mentions

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