[log] Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary [closed]

[jumpthegun]

Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Royce Melborn, Alfie Solomons
Location: Building 29
Date: Night 281
Summary: Team meet-up turns to grieving when Mary is lost to an anomaly.
Warnings: Character death, dissociation, hallucination

[A small shed outside the school, going inside reveals sports equipment is being stored in here. There are hurdles, various sports balls, giant mats, and the like. There's nothing that could be used as a weapon, though, unless you're going to try to hurl a basketball at someone's head. This is the only place on the campus it's possible to stay in overnight.]

Comments

[devoutish]

I haven't got whiskey, so this will have to do.

[He settles on the floor, legs stretched out - leaning on Royce a little, if he's there too.]

You know she might very well be back.

[jumpthegun]

And when we get home? [It's one of the darker places he doesn't let himself stray very often. He's going back to Mary dead and a frantic race to save Sherlock's life.]

[devoutish]

[Alfie's quiet for a moment.]

I wouldn't worry too much about when we get home, mate.

[jumpthegun]

Hmm... just think about getting out. Deal with it later. [There's a certain edge to his tone, and his hands tighten around his cup.]

[devoutish]

Where are you headed after this? You're going for food?

[jumpthegun]

Got food already. Gonna go fetch the microscope where Stephen stored it, cart it over to the new area for use. Maybe set up a cache of medical supplies along the way to go with the food.

[From one task to the next. If he can just stay busy, he doesn't have to focus on anything else. The goal is what's most important, the mission. He can cry for Mary later. He can cry for everyone later.]

[devoutish]

[As they talk, Alfie keeps an eye on his cup - making sure he's still drinking the tea, not just holding it and letting it get cold.]

You'll stay in range of the spots where people revive?

[jumpthegun]

[He's sipping, but not with any real gusto, just habit. At the question, John just shrugs.]

With the tunnels, you're close to everything these days.

[devoutish]

[Good point. He and Royce haven't tried out the tunnels yet.]

Right, listen. I want you to rest tonight.

[jumpthegun]

I'm sitting down, Alfie. I'm not going to sleep or I'll end up waking everyone else up who's trying.

[devoutish]

Yeah, but I know you, and you're gonna try to putter around taking care of everybody but yourself. "Oh, Sherlock was knocked out; he must be traumatized. Royce has just died; I need to check up on him. Mycroft stubbed a toe on the way in; he'll be wanting care."

Do you think sleeping pills would knock you out enough to keep you from waking up from nightmares or crying out in your sleep?

[jumpthegun]

Taking care of other people is taking care of me. [John finishes off the tea and sets down the cup harder than he really means to. He's not actually angry at Alfie, but the man is doing a find job agitating him right at this very moment.] I'm not taking pills. Give them to Sherlock or Mycroft.

[devoutish]

It's distracting you. There's a difference. A bit of distraction's a good thing now and then, but you make an art out of it.

You know why I'm saying this. Yeah?

[jumpthegun]

['You need to sleep, John,' Sholto says, his own voice tired. John glances over at him, jaw tightening in irritation. His subconscious needed to stop being on other people's sides.

'I'm on the side where you don't keel over in the snow.'

John's fairly certain James wouldn't sass him that much.]

Because you're trying to help. I don't want to sleep, Alfie. I know what I'm gonna see. I've gotten by on less than I've had here.

[devoutish]

That's not gonna be good for you, walking tomorrow.

cw: vague suicidal ideation

[jumpthegun]

Thanks, Mum. I'll live.

[Probably.

Unfortunately.]

[devoutish]

Yes, well, that's what I'd like to make sure of.

[jumpthegun]

I'm not gonna die in the snow. [That's directed as much at Sholto as it is at Alfie. He murdered Quark and Luna. He doesn't have the luxury of giving up anymore.] I just don't want to be asleep tonight. You think it's the first time I've gone without? I'm a soldier, Solomons, not a bloody civ.

[devoutish]

Soldiers go without when they need to, and you don't fucking need to, do you. You've got a place to rest that's safe enough. Don't waste it.

[jumpthegun]

[He knows Alfie is right. He knows he knows because Sholto is nodding along with that logic and very suddenly it's too much. There are too many people in this too small room caring too much about a man who has the blood of a terrified little boy and woman on his hands. A man who was too slow to save friends, too quick to blame the best friend he's ever had, and too thick not to realize so many obvious things in his life.

He snaps, slamming his fist back against the wall in lieu of Alfie's face.]

I don't want to fucking sleep, Alfie! Leave it the fuck alone!

[devoutish]

[Alfie actually jerks back, because for a moment, he thinks that fist is headed for his face. His second instinct is to grab for the tea, making sure it doesn't tip over and spill.]

Watson.

[He's still not really angry, but his voice is sharper than it probably should be, his fingers curling into frustrated almost-fists and his nails biting into his palms.]

I can't leave you alone, can I; you're stuck in here with the lot of us. And I, for one, will not see you fucking self-destruct.

[jumpthegun]

[Major Sholto's voice layers over Alfie's with that first barked command and for a moment, John has no idea if Alfie actually spoke or if it was just in his head. He doesn't even bother with looking at Alfie as the other man continues. John's gaze scans the shed, noting each person. Sholto's not visually there. Why would he be? He's not really in Norfinbury. Definitely not.

Alfie's said something that John has to mentally rewind and process as he finally turns his attention back to the other man. The response is delayed and his gaze is distant. Alfie might well be used to seeing men who aren't entirely there in the present moment.]

I don't want to sleep... [There's less bite in it now, at least. John has the good grace to be embarrassed by his outburst, but he's still agitated enough not to apologize for it.] I'll sleep tomorrow night. [Maybe compromise will work better.]

[devoutish]

Then stay here. If you don't wanna sleep, then stay here tomorrow, all day. Don't go out. You've got every right and every reason to be doing poorly, so take the time you've got to give yourself a fucking rest. You're not gonna help anyone by being a martyr, not yourself, and not--

[He gestures to Mycroft and Sherlock, wherever they are.]

them.

CW wet coughing

[holmesice]

[Mycroft jolts awake, heart hammering in his chest after John's yell. It takes him a second to remember where he is, that he's not in a cell locked up in an office building. He still doesn't like enclosed spaces, and after the disaster that happened earlier, especially with worrying about Sherlock, the older Holmes was completely on edge. Only exhaustion had sent him to sleep, and that had been scarce or sporadic over the last few days what with all the horrible feverish coughing and malaise, not to mention the nightmares. He just couldn't shake this bloody cold, and now that he had managed to get some sleep...

He sits up, breathing heavily, covering his mouth with a mitten as he coughed, deerstalker hat on his head askew, blanket all tangled up. Yes, John must be having a terrible time of things but honestly--]

Some of us are trying to sleep!

[bywolves]

[ Royce had also jumped about 80 feet when John yelled - he's awake now, shifting and trying to leech heat off of Alfie. He hadn't planned on saying anything, but Mycroft speaks up. ]

Asshole. [ Royce mutters from under his hood and blankets, just loud enough for Mycroft to hear it. ]