[network] @jwatson; video [Morning 383] [open/semi-open] [shadownet]

[jumpthegun]

((OOC: The first and third parts of the message is OPEN. The second part is SEMI-CLOSED to anyone with access to the Shadownet - a text only app created by Winter. It works within the Bunker. Please see this post about Shadownet distribution.

John's death price is that he can't interact with anyone. He won't see/hear messages, so he won't be responding to anything.))

Part 1 - OTA
[John wakes with a start inside his body bag. There's a momentary sense of absolute panic as he claws his way out of it, and gets off the slab he's been lying on. It's a moment to get his bearings and realize that he's in the hospital morgue. That's... not as bad as it could be. And he's fairly certain all of his memories are intact. At least one of the most important ones. John goes for his tablet first.

It doesn't even occur to him that Mary's been silent since he woke up. He can occasionally see her standing off to one side, but other than that, he's focused on the present, not the past. John double-checks the network, but there don't appear to be any new posts. Good. That means he's probably woken up the morning after being killed. As far as inconvenience goes, that's a minor one.]

Everyone, this is Dr. John Watson. Please listen closely. Rhys is in severe danger. His last known location was Building 317 on Dr. House's map. Please, if you're anywhere near there, go and check on him. He was injured during a fight a few days ago and Mr. Beckett attempted to kill him last night. I tried to stop him, but was killed in the fight. I don't know if Beckett succeeded. If Rhys is dead, Beckett may be a danger to others, particularly Enoch. Please watch out for him and please someone check on Rhys and Enoch, physically, if you're able to do so.

[He sends that out and waits for replies. And waits. John gathers his things and leaves the morgue, heading upstairs. When there still isn't a reply, he decides that maybe everyone has... somehow headed to the bunker.

'Or there's something wrong with the network,' Mary suggests. It's the first time she's spoken since John had woken up, and he glances over at her with a furrowed brow before switching on the Shadownet.]

Part 2 (half an hour later) - Shadownet Access Only
Hello? Is anyone there? This is John. There's been a serious incident. Beckett attacked Rhys last night. I died while trying to defend him. Rhys may still be alive and Enoch may be in danger. Please, could someone respond?

[Another half hour goes by as John begins walking. And then another. It's two hours later before he switches over to the regular network again. Mary's close to him now, fingers laced with his free hand.]

Part 3 - OTA
Please, I don't know what's going on, but this is Dr. John Watson. I'm heading toward Residential Zone 3. If anyone can see this message, please respond. [He looks to the side as Mary speaks up, the woman only in his own mind.

'John, I don't know there's anyone there.'

But they have to be there. The whole bloody town can't disappear overnight.

'Why not?' Mary asks.

It's a simple question, but it's absolutely chilling.]

Sherlock? Please, answer me. Alfie? Royce? Bucky? England? Stephen? Tess? Kunsel?

Anyone?

Comments

[jumpthegun]

[He's succeeding in driving John up a wall, across the room, and down the other one.]

Please just leave me alone! [It's shouted into the stillness of the air.] Please.

[howdull]

[It's a request and not a question, but he can still refuse it and hope that John picks up on the timing to mean no. He grasps on immediately, as if that can convey how very emphatically that he's not going to leave John alone.

This is going to be a very long few days if John doesn't start observing.]

[jumpthegun]

[It's going to be a very long few days. Unfortunately, even if he were capable of recognizing the act as communication normally--and that would be a stretch--his death price is preventing him from making the leap to communication with another human being.

'Just stay calm,' Mary says, trying to soothe.]

Stop saying that. It isn't helping. I feel like I'm going insane.

['You're hallucinating your dead wife as someone to talk to. I think we crossed that bridge, my darling.']

At least I'm not alone.

[howdull]

[Sherlock will eventually resort to only prodding John when it's necessary to keep him on the path that Sherlock has decided they should take through the days, up towards the pharmacy and beyond.

Though at nights, he will spend between thirty minutes and two hours poking and prodding just to be petty.

It'll be a long few days for all involved.]

Morning 387 (cw: suicidal ideations)

[jumpthegun]

[The days are very long, especially as John becomes increasingly agitated as he's redirected again and again from where he thinks he wants to be going. He talks more to Mary, demands to know if he's losing his mind again and again without adequate answer.

He wonders aloud if the revival mechanism would work again if it's just him now.

It's morning on Day 387. John wakes suddenly from a nightmare, panicking, looking around. He'd been alone. So completely alone for a hundred years, wandering Norfinbury, losing time, just surviving, unable to solve any of the puzzles alone. Not even the Admin or Winter would respond. All of the data ghosts had gone.

He lets out a shaky breath, blinking back tears and then sucks it in again sharply. No tears. He's not crying. There's no point to it.

'Sometimes it's okay to just cry, John.']

Easy for you to say.

['It's not, really. You, remember?']

I remember.

[He remembers that it's been four days and he's been completely alone with his thoughts. With Mary. Except that's not Mary and he needs to remember. At home, at least, and here, when he'd seen her and Sholto, he'd had other people to ground him. Here, it's just her and he's more and more treating her like she's really there. It's getting harder to remember that she isn't.

'You do like thinking yourself 'round in circles, don't you?' Mary's crouched next to him and cups his cheek with her hand. 'Think we both know where this is going, John.']

I don't want to be alone.

[He words are small, almost pleading.

'But you are. For now. What are you going to do when you aren't?']

I dunno. I...

['John, I think it's time for me to go.']

Please don't.

['Oh, my love... you know I'll always be with you. The real me, not this.' She leans in to place a gentle kiss to his lips, and he feels himself tearing up again. 'You can survive, John, and you'll do it better with real people. Promise me you'll try? This can't last forever. Whatever's making you lose time... I think it's part of the death price. Might be why no one's here, too.']

Mary, Dr. Lecter said... he said it was okay. This is okay. You can be here.

['John, you didn't even believe him then. You just wanted this. Promise me.'

He's losing the battle as his breath hitches again.]

Promise.

[She's gone from one blink to the next, and John lowers his head, tears pouring over. He covers his eyes and just lets it come. There's no one else here to see. Maybe he can let it happen just this once.]

[howdull]

[Sherlock has done all he can to keep Mycroft at arm's length these past few days, trying to keep him out of audible range whenever John starts talking to Mary, as he knows that John wouldn't want anyone to hear these moments of intimacy. But if he had to choose someone hearing them, it wouldn't be Mycroft Holmes.

He's thankful that his brother is momentarily absent that morning.

He keeps his hands to himself whenever John is talking to Mary, and this morning is no exception, though he listens in avidly as if he can hear her voice too. He can't, but he can tell what she might be saying based on John's responses, can almost pretend that he's lucky enough to see her too. But this isn't an ordinary conversation, and John's grief is sharp enough to cut through the air. The tears are a private thing, but Sherlock doesn't even consider moving away. He's just lost Mary, such is evident, and John is afraid of being alone.]

As ever, John, you see but you don't observe.

[His voice is a little hitched as well, but it doesn't matter because he isn't embarrassing himself with anyone hearing. If Mycroft were here, or John could actually hear him, he'd never voice these things. But he might as well voice them here just as well as in his mind palace, it's just as private.]

You see the absence of physical people around you and you believe yourself to be alone, when I don't believe it's possible for you to be alone a moment in your life. Mary is still with you, she made sure to protect you from beyond the grave, and a woman like that doesn't simply vanish because you can't see or hear her any longer. Trust me, I've felt her influence long after she was actually gone.

[He hesitates over this, even with nobody else to hear, but he's started now so he might as well go on.]

And, naturally, I am here. Perhaps a poor substitute for a wife, John, but I give you my promise that you will never be alone while I live. Even if you continue to be obtuse about recognising the simplest of codes.

[jumpthegun]

M' not obtuse. Your codes are stupid.

[He mumbles the words without thinking, voice thick with emotion. Then his brain catches up and John jerks his head up, eyes wide.]

Sherlock?

[howdull]

[Oh, very funny, Admin. What a hilarious joke to end that death price at the least opportune moment; still, perhaps John only heard the last of it. He huffs in mild irritation.]

Mycroft too, though he's thankfully stepped out for the moment.

[jumpthegun]

Sherlock... [John lurches toward the other man, grabbing for him. Not so much for a hug as to just try to convince himself that he's real, not another hallucination. But with as vivid as John knows his experiences to be, he's not certain what could convince him apart from some sort of... outside evidence. Pictures.]

I need your picture.

[Mary hadn't turned up in any of those before after she'd died. He pulls away and grabs for his tablet, aiming it at Sherlock and snapping a photo. It's only once he has that proof in hand that John feels his knees go weak for emotion, and he leans back against the wall for support, head thumping softly against it.]

How long? You've been here the whole time?

[howdull]

[He'll let John grab at him, though he has to find some way to break the sentimental mood and so he makes sure that he's grinning overly widely and flashing the peace V at the camera when it goes off, just to be an arse.]

Naturally.

[As if he wouldn't track John down when he heard he died, and be there as soon as he woke up.]

I threw wood at your crotch, it was quite entertaining.

[jumpthegun]

[Sherlock does know how to kill a mood. Although, the dismissive way he says he was naturally there mitigates the urge to chuck something at him.]

Oh, yeah? Maybe I could try on you. Really get a full experience. Hold still.

[howdull]

[He grins, this time more genuine and amused.]

You're welcome to try, but I'm very well padded. I have a set of earmuffs down my trousers.

[jumpthegun]

[The statement pulls John up short. He's still feeling emotional and he's working through just coming off of crying, but there are some things that really have the power to stop a man in his tracks.]

You... what? Why? No. Never mind. I know why. [Because it's to keep warm.] I- have you heard of the concept of TMI?

[howdull]

There's no such thing.

[He hesitates a moment and then quickly amends his statement. This is good, getting John's mind back up out of the taut distress of before.]

Actually, the last NSY Christmas party, I had to listen to some irritating officer tell me the minutia of her journey in through traffic, that was too much information. This is the right amount of information, perhaps if you were similarly padded then you wouldn't have doubled over so comically when I hit you.

[jumpthegun]

Oh, my god. Stop calling it padding. You make it sound like it's a fetish or something. [This is horrible, but his mind is definitely veered away from one emotion to another.] I don't wanna know what's down your trousers unless it's something that shouldn't be there and you need medical attention, Sherlock.

I got plenty of looks when we were living together, thanks.

[howdull]

Everything comes back to sex for you, John, it's so very primitive of you.

[His grin hitches up a little bit.]

At least I'm not discussing what padding Mycroft might have down his trousers, that would be enough to scar us both for life. Your life of solitude would seem much more attractive after that mental image.

[jumpthegun]

Human. The word you're looking for is human, Sherlock.

Also, why the hell would you say that? Why would you-? Oh, my god, it's in my head now. Have you got any bleach? I might need to die for a bit longer.

[howdull]

Not all humans are obsessed with sexual intercourse, John.

[He sounds ever so vaguely offended.]

One of the better things about being a species capable of higher cognitive development, is the ability to transcend the base needs of procreation.

[jumpthegun]

Says the man who fell in love with a dominatrix.

[howdull]

I didn't fall in love with her, don't be absurd.

[jumpthegun]

You were pining when you thought she'd died.

[howdull]

Don't be ridiculous.

[He scoffs audibly.]

I regretted the loss of a worthy adversary, nothing else.

[jumpthegun]

Yeah, sure.

[John's tone is very clearly disbelieving.]

That's why you kept her orgasmic moan as your text alert for her.

[howdull]

Jealous, John?

[He raises an eyebrow.]

She was very good at what she did, I could understand if you were envious.

[jumpthegun]

No.

[Yes. Maybe a little bit.]

I don't have any interest in the sort of things she was good at. [A pause.] Except, I mean... I mean I was already... not that I'd do it like that, but I wouldn't've been opp-

I'm going to stop talking now.

[And just rub a hand over his face.]