[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

[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. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie snorts in amusement at that.]

[jumpthegun]

[John's still processing what Alfie's said when Mycroft speaks up.

'Asshole,' Sholto concurs, equally quiet.

There are a lot of words right now. Or there aren't a lot, but more than one person is speaking, and that's getting John worried about who's speaking in his head and who's actually speaking out loud. Who is it safe to reply to? Well, Sholto's definitely not there and Alfie is definitely talking at him. Alfie is safe enough.]

I'm not staying here. We have work to do. I'm not trying to be a martyr, I'm just...

[Tired. He's so tired. Always tired. The anger is draining away to some abyss, but in its place is just an empty feeling. Norfinbury has wrung him out more in a few weeks than all the rest of it has in a few months.]

I have to keep working.

[And then, because he doesn't entirely trust himself, he adds in a much quieter voice.]

Did Mycroft and Royce say something just now?

[He'll play it off as having trouble focusing at the moment if he needs to. John just wants Alfie to answer the question. Royce and Mycroft are in the shed. So is Sherlock. It wouldn't be unreasonable for any of them to speak up.]

[devoutish]

Mm.

[He turns to look back at Watson, chin scraping lightly against the top of Royce's head.]

Yeah, they did. Why? You couldn't hear it?

[jumpthegun]

[Right.]

No. I wasn't paying much attention.

[To Mycroft snapping loud enough to be heard. Pressing on.]

Leave him be, Royce. He's... got problems, too.

[bywolves]

All of us have got problems. [ Royce's voice comes from under the hood, quiet and sharp. ] He's not excused.

[jumpthegun]

[John's quiet on that because he's seen the videos of what both Royce and Mycroft went through. He's not sure what else to say. Maybe Alfie will drop it.]

[holmesice]

[Mycroft's glaring from under his re-adjusted blanket. His nerves are too frayed for him to have much empathy for anyone save Sherlock. Of course, it was regrettable what happened to Mary, but he was far more concerned about what that did to Sherlock rather than anyone else, even John. Sarme as when it happened the first time.

And now they had to endure other people. Ugh.]

And yet the noise continues. Wonderful.

[devoutish]

[Alfie flicks the end of a blanket in his direction.]

Fuck off, Mycroft.

[bywolves]

[ Royce's voice is pissy and low from where he's curled up: ]

Could fix the problem of having to hear for you.

[jumpthegun]

[John doesn't want to play peacemaker right now. He doesn't have the energy.]

Just lie down, Mycroft. We'll be quiet.

[holmesice]

[What nonsense he must endure. He ignores Alfie and mutters in Royce's direction--]

Really? Would you? Because that would be a relief, honestly.

[At least John is sensible. That gets small 'hmm' of approval as Mycroft readjusts his blanket again and settles down.]