snowblindrpg | [network] @jwatson; text; Bite the Bullet [Night 250]

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[network] @jwatson; text; Bite the Bullet [Night 250]

[This is an incredibly embarrassing post to have to make, especially after the one he'd put out a few days earlier. Reading through those replies makes him want to curl up and hide from the world for people seeing what he'd been like straight out of the Army. The messages to his friends are a particular humiliation. But it is what it is and he has to deal with this now. Man up, Watson.]

I'd like to apologize to everyone for my attitude and behavior the last several days. My death price has ended and my memories have returned. I can't take back the things I said to any of you, but I'm really very sorry. I was in a bit of a bad place where I was set at.

For anyone who was asking me, I'm in the Entrance area with America, England, and Ginger.

I'm also sorry to report that the cause for Clint Barton's death was the Joker. He mortally wounded Clint, but I'm pretty sure Clint was able to escape the situation along with Harley Quinn. Clint was able to mortally wound the Joker, as well. I'm not sure where the Joker is right now, but please be on your absolute guard. He is well-armed and he'll have been healed up after his revival, even if he might still have severe MN Poisoning.

Action for Team Blonde
[Prior to sending out the message, John is rummaging around the new building they'd made it to for the night. He thinks he's getting the hang of this and he's relaxed a little more around his companions since they've not attacked him suddenly or stolen from him for several consecutive days.

He opens a cabinet in the kitchen and discovers a bottle of white wine, which is surprising, but not unwelcome when everything returns to him in a flash. It's like someone turning on the lights, full power when he's been completely in dark. It hurts.

John squeezes his eyes shut as the swirl of memories pours in, mixing, jumbling, resorting into the proper order and finally stopping when everything is settled. He's clutching his head, breathing hard. One memory in particular sticks out, though, the last one he'd had before dying...]

Fuck!

[Hope the rest of the house doesn't mind swearing.]

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Everything. I was aware. I just... I wasn't always in control, y'know?

[There's a long pause.]

I think the Joker killed Har- my anomaly while we were both still monstrosities. Did you... do anything to yours?

[Mycroft mulls over all of that before speaking again.]

No, I did not. They disappeared eventually.

Do you remember turning back to normal?

[Right. Well. That's fine. Mycroft still has his light... thanks to their running, John would like to think.]

Yeah. It's what woke me up. Hurt like hell.

[There's a thoughtful pause. Now that he had time to think about it, and look over what others reported, it was more likely their perceptions were the ones altered, not their actual bodies. It was easier to fathom at least.

Even though part of him was still convinced what he'd seen firsthand was real. As absurd as it was, Sherlock's pain had seemed very real...though again that could have been a perception issue...]

So again, it truly felt like your body was being, for lack of a better word, twisted out of shape? Or was it a general overall pain?

Edited 2017-06-23 05:19 (UTC)

Like it was being twisted. Listen, Mycroft, there's something else you should probably know. Last time when Sherlock and I died, we gained extra memories. It doesn't seem like that's happened with him this time, but he's going to figure it out eventually. You know that right? You can't sit a mysterious little girl and woman in front of him and expect him not to figure out. I know you're a wall or whatever, but he can read me. What's safe to tell him here, d'you think?

Maybe I can head off more questions if I give him a bit.

[Wh...what?

That was certainly worrying. Oh blast, this was not...Mycroft purses his lips, trying to think. What if he didn't remember all at once..?

He's far too busy worrying to even try to analyze John's tone for possible deception.]

There's no point in telling him bits and pieces. None of it is safe to tell him until his memories return completely. Hopefully, they won't.

[Mycroft's voice has gone cold and extremely tense.]

[Well, then.]

Because the wait and see approach worked out well last time.

[He's fishing. But if John knows who this person is, then it stands to reason that Sherlock's memories came back. Why did he forget her? Who the hell is she?]

Edited 2017-06-23 14:59 (UTC)

She isn't after us this time, obviously. Well, in a sense, her mutilated corpse seems to like hanging around.

[He rubs his face.]

Fortunately Sherlock did not recognize her, even as an anomaly, and I've been monitoring him as I usually do. If he regains his memories, we'll deal with it then, and only then.

[A bitter bark of a laugh.] I wondered, when I first arrived, if this place wasn't somehow one of her little games. It's all rather familiar, isn't it?

[Uh... not at all. Time to throw out another hook.]

Well, it runs in the family. I really did think it was you who was playing with me when I first woke up here.

[The hook's caught a fish.]

Yes, well. You'd prefer me rather than her, I'm sure. And this is more her style, really.

[Oh, god. Really? That's not... what?

John keeps his tone the same as it has been, but he's reeling a bit.]

What did your parents do to deserve you three? Did you mum murder someone and bury the body in a swamp when she was a teenager?

[A bitter laugh.]

I wouldn't be surprised if she did.

[A pause.]

It was a lucky storm of genetic admixture. Eurus received both the best and the worst of it.

[Eurus? Seriously? Maybe their parents were cursed for those names they picked out.]

There is a chance Sherlock could remember that best part, even if it dredges up the worst along with it, you know? Memories are important. They make a person who they are. Look at me, Mycroft.

[Look at the man he'd been without his memories.]

I've been managing Sherlock's memories for more than thirty years. He was doing quite fine before she turned up and he started remembering.

Yes, they make you who you are. She made Sherlock who he is. For good or ill. And right now, he doesn't need the 'ill.' The 'best part' still will remind one of the worst. I hardly think he'd enjoy remembering he was going to shoot me. Or himself.

Edited 2017-06-23 15:36 (UTC)

[What? What the hell?]

I dunno how I'm going to keep this from him, Mycroft. He can read me like a book. Either you can tell him straight out, or he's going to deduce it all off me if the topic of that little girl in the morgue turns up. Or your anomaly. And those might well come back.

[There's an extremely long pause. Mycroft was willing to die without telling Sherlock about Victor. And he wasn't going to let John ruin it all over again.]

You will tell him nothing, John. This is for his own sake and safety.

You remember what I told you what he was like, after it happened? When we were children?

[He meant the conversation they initially had about Eurus.]

[No, actually. John decides to take a different tack.]

You're not children anymore, Mycroft. He's not a little boy, as much as you still think of him that way. I know you're trying to protect him, be a good big brother, but there comes a point when you need to treat him like the adult he is.

[You were always the grown-up, their mother's words to Sherlock, and a purposeful insult to him, stung. Mycroft's entire world had come crashing down, his life's work was all for naught, and everything he'd done to protect Sherlock had blown up in his face, not to mention the horror that Eurus had put them through.

It had all come crashing down.

He has a second chance here.

Mycroft's tone turns positively frigid.]

You weren't there, Dr. Watson.

[A purposeful dig. Not a Holmes.

Sherlock thought of him as family, but Mycroft had been Sherlock's minder for far longer, even when he didn't want him to, or know he was. John was new, an outsider, an interloper. Of course, this line of reasoning probably caused a lot of Eurus' problems.]

Edited 2017-06-23 16:05 (UTC)

No. I wasn't. But I'm here now.

[The 'deal with it, dickhead' goes unsaid.]

[Mycroft's sour look sours further. Really, there was no way around John Watson when he set his mind to something, he could be as stubborn or worse, than Sherlock.

A long pause before he speaks again.]

He won't deduce all of it, he didn't the last time. If he does glean something off of you, I'll deal with his questions until his memory fully returns, if it does.

[Okay. This is going on a bit more than he expected and John is just going to be telling Sherlock straight out.]

Right. You should probably know I haven't actually gained any memories, but thanks for the information on Sherlock's secret sister. Bloody hell, Mycroft. I'm not keeping this from him.

[There's silence for a good long while.

Mycroft's so floored he's actually impressed. John Watson had managed to trick him!? It was insane.

This place has clearly slowed him down or messed with his mind too much. It's embarrassing.]

You--

--you, John--

[A beat.]

--damn.

[Another pause, angry breathing.]

Of all the--absolutely not, John, you will not tell him!

Mm...

[John has, unfortunately, spent too much time talking to Alfie Solomons.]

[Mycroft's not convinced, and he's furious. He's also furious at himself for getting tricked like that.

This was the second time John wheedled it out of him. Utter failure on his own part.

And there really was no way for John to keep this from Sherlock. Even if he tried, the doctor would either accidentally say something or Sherlock would deduce it from him. But of course John would tell him, and Mycroft had nothing to threaten him with otherwise.]

You don't know what you're doing. This will do more harm than good.

And yet, somehow, we all survive.

[There's a pause.]

We survive. Sherlock survives. I made it... I make it in time to him. Culverton. I made it there in time!

[network] @jwatson; text; Bite the Bullet [Night 250]

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