[log] fuck [closed]

[devoutish]

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Emily Kaldwin, Gregory House, John Watson, Royce Melborn, Tifa Lockhart
Location: building 120 and building 101
Date: evening of 190 to morning of 192
Summary: when you see "House" and "Royce" in the same log you know it's gonna be a party
Warnings: ear removal

Catch-all for EVERYTHING - death, murder, torture, yelling, etc. Top-level and tag as you see fit.

Comments

[devoutish]

[He takes two. He eats one, and tosses the other in Watson's lap.]

Eat.

[jumpthegun]

[John looks down at the chicken nugget and picks it up. He starts to eat it just to appease the other man, even though it's like paste in his mouth.]

I'm really not hungry. You don't need to make me eat. I'll be fine tomorrow. [As fine as he can pretend to be.]

[devoutish]

[The look on his face clearly says that he thinks that's bullshit.]

What happened?

[jumpthegun]

Sherlock and Sylar are dead. Experiment in the morgue. His theory was wrong. [John keeps his voice as level as he can, looks down at the food, rather than up at Alfie.]

[devoutish]

[Oh.

Fuck.

Despite everything, Alfie still cares about Watson enough that he's not going to try to make this worse.]

How long ago?

[jumpthegun]

Last night. Around midnight. Has anything happened? My tablet broke.

[He doesn't... care all that much, but it still seems like something to ask.]

[devoutish]

Nothing on the network. If it happened last night, then you haven't eaten since then, I'm sure.

[So he hands Watson another chicken nugget.]

[jumpthegun]

[Alfie isn't wrong.]

I wasn't hungry.

[John takes it and eats.]

You don't have to do this, Alfie.

[devoutish]

[He grunts, and nods at the apple.]

Eat the fucking fruit, Watson.

[jumpthegun]

[He wouldn't be this kind if it weren't Sherlock. John knows that.]

I will if you act like things haven't changed. He has to come back. He told me he'd come back. One to four days. I just... I just have to wait a few days.

[John will cling to that as long as he can. Even if he doesn't really believe it.]

[devoutish]

Watson, just eat. You're gonna need your strength if you're gonna go walking to one of the morgues for him.

[jumpthegun]

[John stares down at the apple before finally choking down the rest of the chicken nugget and starting in on the thing.]

I have Fiona's hat for you. And I still want to give you my blood.

[devoutish]

[... Oh.

With everything else that had come up between him and Watson, he'd actually forgotten about both those things.]

Where's the hat?

[jumpthegun]

[John sets the apple down in his lap and turns his pack over a little where the hat is hooked to one of the pockets. John Unhooks it and offers it to Alfie mutely.]

[devoutish]

[He takes it carefully, with both hands, smoothing a thumb over the brim. Then he turns away, so Watson can't see his face.]

[jumpthegun]

[He's silent for a moment. There's a shared grief here, and it's something that can pull John out of his own head.]

Alfie, sit down.

[devoutish]

[Despite the heavy expression on his face, and the pain in his eyes, Alfie still manages to give Watson a sharp look.

But he sits down on the other end of the couch.]

[jumpthegun]

[Well, he'd sort of wanted to offer a hug--and take one--but that's probably too much to hope for with Alfie. This isn't Bucky. And they're meant to be angry with each other.]

You can keep it. I've had it for a while now.

[He takes another bite of the apple for something to do.]

[devoutish]

Mm.

[Despite himself, the wind has kind of been knocked out of Alfie's anger sails, at least for now. He's sure it'll be back later, but at the moment he's just... staring down at that hat.]

Here.

[He takes a couple more chicken nuggets for himself, then shoves the bag at Watson.]

[jumpthegun]

[John takes the bag and just puts it away in his pack again.]

I'll just stay down here tonight. Won't bother you once you're upstairs.

[devoutish]

Mm.

Eat the crackers, or have another apple.

[jumpthegun]

You sound like Mrs. Hudson.

[devoutish]

Who?

[His voice is distant, but less gruff. He's been afraid since last night, for reasons that he's pretty sure have nothing to do with what they'd done to House - but there's been a sadness too, and the hat in his hands is making that worse. He kind of wants to wallow, and doesn't have much of a drive to push past it.]

[jumpthegun]

Our landlady. Acted like Sherlock's mum sometimes. Made sure he ate when I wasn't around.

[devoutish]

You don't need anybody to make you eat, at home?