Clark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redballoon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dear_mun2017-01-14 04:25 pm
redballoon) wrote in dear_mun2017-01-14 04:25 pm
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[brittle, feeling like he'll fly apart, wanting to snap...
...but well aware it's not this lady's fault]
Thank you.
...but well aware it's not this lady's fault]
Thank you.
[Flinch. Quick look at Sherlock, then away.]
Sherlock.
Far enough. I haven't... finished it, yet.
Sherlock.
Far enough. I haven't... finished it, yet.
John. I-
[But no. He thinks better of it, or realises he has no idea what he's supposed to say. It's hard to tell the difference.]
I see.
[But no. He thinks better of it, or realises he has no idea what he's supposed to say. It's hard to tell the difference.]
I see.
[Glacial. Knows he's being unfair.]
I don't expect you to say anything. Don't worry about it.
I don't expect you to say anything. Don't worry about it.
You do. Expect me to say something, that is. Something ignorant and thoughtlessly cruel so you have ample provocation to attack me without experiencing the distraction of guilt.
Don't worry, I will no doubt oblige. One of my many talents.
Don't worry, I will no doubt oblige. One of my many talents.
[Folding his arms across his body, very tightly. Turning to look at Sherlock for more than a tenth of a second this time.
He doesn't know what to do. He wants to yell at Sherlock. He wants to rip pieces out of Sherlock's hide. He wants to break down. He wants to run and never see his stupid genius best friend again.
But none of it would help.]
[Hating himself for this, nearly as much as he hates Sherlock right now:]
Promise?
He doesn't know what to do. He wants to yell at Sherlock. He wants to rip pieces out of Sherlock's hide. He wants to break down. He wants to run and never see his stupid genius best friend again.
But none of it would help.]
[Hating himself for this, nearly as much as he hates Sherlock right now:]
Promise?
[Joan has seen this before, of course, from patient's families, from victims of violent crimes, even from Sherlock. Her voice remains soft and respectful.]
I know it's probably hard to think that things will ever be better. But you're strong. And you have friends.
I know it's probably hard to think that things will ever be better. But you're strong. And you have friends.
[He stares. Blinks. It takes him a while to reply. He's not certain whether John meant that to hurt or not (It seems incongruous, that level of vindictive cruelty- to twist the knife of his broken vow...) but hurt it does.]
I think... I have made my last promise.
I think... I have made my last promise.
[John frowns a little; her attitude is quite... familiar. Compassionate, but respectful. Retaining a professional distance.]
Mm.
I'll manage. Have to. For my daughter.
[Definitely not changing the subject and trying to evade talking about his feelings. Definitely not. Never does that.] Ah, excuse me, should I know you?
Mm.
I'll manage. Have to. For my daughter.
[Definitely not changing the subject and trying to evade talking about his feelings. Definitely not. Never does that.] Ah, excuse me, should I know you?
[Entirely, entirely intentional. But Sherlock - predictably - doesn't respond with aggression or anger. Doesn't push John away. And so John...
John's nostrils flare, briefly, and he grimaces. Ashamed of himself. He's still furious at Sherlock, but...]
[shortly] Good.
[more quietly] Sorry.
John's nostrils flare, briefly, and he grimaces. Ashamed of himself. He's still furious at Sherlock, but...]
[shortly] Good.
[more quietly] Sorry.
[Of course not.]
You might not have met me before. It's one of the weird things about this place...sometimes there are different versions of people. For instance, my name is Joan Watson. I work with a man named Sherlock.
You might not have met me before. It's one of the weird things about this place...sometimes there are different versions of people. For instance, my name is Joan Watson. I work with a man named Sherlock.
[Oh. He did. It's a strange sensation, watching John berate himself for not hating Sherlock enough. Or too much. At this point, it could swing either way. The uncertainty would be unbearable, if he were not already well past the point of self-loathing.
But he never can stop himself.]
For what?
But he never can stop himself.]
For what?
[A surprised splutter at that, and what feels like the first smile of amusement for a while. He offers her a hand to shake.]
Oh. I'm dreadfully sorry.
Oh. I'm dreadfully sorry.
[She shakes his hand, his smile making her smile.]
It's okay. He's actually a lot better than he used to be. Although still occasionally totally clueless.
It's okay. He's actually a lot better than he used to be. Although still occasionally totally clueless.
[John gives him a mulish look. His conscience is flaring, but very reluctantly.]
The fact that I never want to see you again doesn't mean I have the right to be cruel to you.
You didn't mean to get her killed.
[And even that's probably unfair, but it's as good as John can do right now.]
The fact that I never want to see you again doesn't mean I have the right to be cruel to you.
You didn't mean to get her killed.
[And even that's probably unfair, but it's as good as John can do right now.]
[...she has a really nice smile.]
Ah, well, that's something. Is he also American?
Ah, well, that's something. Is he also American?
No, he's from London. But he lives in New York now. We do consulting work for the NYPD.
Ah. Of course. [He sounds almost agitated, now, unable to stop the words falling out of his mouth- because if not these, which words and sentiments might spill out, never to be recovered?]
Actually attacking me, while certainly within your rights, would cost you the moral high ground. And that's your thing, isn't it. The automatic that takes over. Doctor John Watson does no harm, and so... he will apologise. To me. The man who... failed to save her life.
Actually attacking me, while certainly within your rights, would cost you the moral high ground. And that's your thing, isn't it. The automatic that takes over. Doctor John Watson does no harm, and so... he will apologise. To me. The man who... failed to save her life.
[...watching. How much has the fool had? He's... he's grieving, too. And handling it in his own insanely arrogant, unhealthy, self-hating way. Perhaps Sherlock's hallucinating, too.
John had told Molly that he wanted to see anyone other than Sherlock. Mrs Hudson knew better, for all that she'd mostly brought Sherlock to him so John could make him be less annoying to her.
Damn the man.]
[Very dry.] I try to do no harm. I don't always succeed.
I know her well enough to know she leapt in front of you. You got her into that mess, certainly. But that was her decision. You didn't kill her, you fool.
John had told Molly that he wanted to see anyone other than Sherlock. Mrs Hudson knew better, for all that she'd mostly brought Sherlock to him so John could make him be less annoying to her.
Damn the man.]
[Very dry.] I try to do no harm. I don't always succeed.
I know her well enough to know she leapt in front of you. You got her into that mess, certainly. But that was her decision. You didn't kill her, you fool.
[She smiles at first and then lowers her head.]
I'll never apologise for saving his life.
[There's a long pause, she's clearly not done.]
I am sorry I had to leave you and Rosie.
I do. I think it's the work I was meant to do. But I would never have even thought about being a detective if I hadn't met Sherlock.
[- freezing at first. He's hallucinating again. Must be.]
Oh... oh, Mary.
[Looking up at the sky. That's supposed to help control tears, isn't it? Not that he's crying. Definitely not.]
Mm. She misses you. But she's all right. Molly and Mrs Hudson are taking care of her.
Oh... oh, Mary.
[Looking up at the sky. That's supposed to help control tears, isn't it? Not that he's crying. Definitely not.]
Mm. She misses you. But she's all right. Molly and Mrs Hudson are taking care of her.
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