[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]

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?

[jumpthegun]

If I didn't do the shopping and eat, he wouldn't. Sherlock hardly takes care of himself.

[Having someone else to care for has a way of making it easier to take care of yourself.]

[devoutish]

No wonder you are the way you are.

[jumpthegun]

I was the way I was before him, y'know?

[devoutish]

No wonder you like him, then.

My mum used to bring my dad dinners at the office, when I was a kid. We'd come along, lined up after her as we went down the street.

[It's easy, to fall into this kind of talk with John again - even though he reminds himself that it won't last.]

[jumpthegun]

[The mental image brings a faint smile to John's lips.]

Like ducks in a row. How many kids d'you think you'd want for that?

[devoutish]

Six or seven. Oldest to youngest.

[He drags a finger through the air, trailing downwards, as if demonstrating the decreasing heights of each successive child.]

[jumpthegun]

I'd say that's enough. Dunno how people manage with more than one, really. Maybe two. Six or seven sounds like a hell of a lot of work.

[devoutish]

Really, I don't think I'll have any.

[Kids are too hard to protect. Something terrible would inevitably happen to them.]

[jumpthegun]

[That pulls John further out of his own head, and he looks over at Alfie fully.]

Alfie... [His tone is gentle.] You'll be a good father. As good as you can be.

[devoutish]

[He shakes his head.]

Wouldn't be enough. The world's a terrible place.

[jumpthegun]

But it keeps turning. [John picks himself up and sets aside the apples and cheez-its. He's so tired, but he needs to. He takes the blanket Alfie has put around him and offers it to the other man.]

The world'll go on, whether you've got kids in it or not.

[devoutish]

[Alfie waves him off. You hold onto that blanket for now, John. He'll take it back in the morning.]

Better not, then.

[A part of him knows that he feels this way because of something - something even more than the depression that's been eating at him more and more lately. Something had happened last night, and it hadn't just been the mess with House. But knowing that it's suspect doesn't stop him from feeling it. The world is terrifying, the world is hopeless, and he can't bring kids into it.]

[jumpthegun]

Alfie, I'm going to hug you in a moment if you don't take this blanket.

[devoutish]

I'd bet everything in my pack that that ratty one is the only one you've got because you've given all your others away.

[He doesn't take it.]

[jumpthegun]

[The warning was issued.]

This is the only blanket I've found since I got here.

[John sits down next to the other man and wraps his arms around his shoulders if he'll allow it. It's as much for John as it is for Alfie.]

[devoutish]

Fuck off.

[But he sounds less than convincing, and while he doesn't hug back, he doesn't shove him off, either.]

We're a right mess, aren't we.

[jumpthegun]

[John rests his head on Alfie's shoulder for a long moment, taking the small, selfish comfort.]

Yeah.

[Before pulling away and sniffing, clearing his throat.]

I do love him. If he comes back, I'm gonna beat him into the ground before I hug him. And if she comes back--[He nods down at Fiona's hat]--I'm gonna kiss her.

[devoutish]

Me, too.

[He's not saying it to stake a claim, and he's not at all objecting to Watson's determination to do the same. They can both kiss her. That's perfectly fine.]