fandomhigh | Library, [01/30]

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Library, [01/30]

Once again, Jonothon was back in the library, doing something that resembled work in the wake of trauma. But, really, when wasn't he traumatized, at least a little bit? The work would do him some good, anyhow. It meant that he would have less time to sit around and mope all over himself, telling himself how much of an idiot he was.

Because that was completely productive behaviour.

No, no, today he was stalking about again, eyebrows furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed, with the occasional curl of smoke making its way up from his wrappings. He was without a jacket entirely, today, because one of his jackets was in a horrible state of affairs, and the other had been a gift from somebody that he wasn't quite ready to face, just yet.

He was distracting himself by looking through the aisles for inspiration on some kind of display to set up, today. Something that had nothing to do with the upcoming holiday.

Maybe music. You could never go wrong with music.

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//Well, yes. But you'd have to pay for that,// Jono pointed out. Because he was helpful like that.

...

//Right. It should be down this way, then.//

See, he was totally here to be functional and useful, or something, today. He was making a spirited attempt!

"Thank you for the advice," Sherlock remarked dryly as he followed after him.

//Occasionally, I'm good for that,// Jono replied, his tone every bit as dry as he led the way. //Maybe you have to wait a bit to get to that point. But when I come up with half-decent advice, it's usually...//

He squinted.

//Right. No. I give horrible advice. Would you like some sort of breakdown of pornography through different cultures, too?//

Riiiight.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at that. "If you can drag yourself out of the pit of self pity, that would be perfect."

You know? The crazy thing was, that was something that Jono actually needed to hear, and everybody but Sherlock bloody Holmes seemed to be afraid to say it to him?

//It's a fairly deep pit, you know,// Jono mumbled, wincing a bit as he turned down another aisle and started very studiously looking at the titles of the books that he walked by. //But it keeps me from doing anything too stupid. Usually.//

"Such as?"

And now Jono stopped, glancing over his shoulder at Sherlock with an eyebrow raised.

//Hurt people, mostly.//

Oh god, his eyes. They rolled out of his head!

"Yes, yes. I'm sure. It's all terribly traumatic and no one understands your wholly unique pain."

Edited 2011-01-30 22:31 (UTC)

There was that little bit of smoke, rising up around the edges again.

//I don't expect you to understand,// Jono replied, going for gruff and mostly just managing to come off as bitter. And, yeah, maybe a little traumatized. //I'm not just some whiny prat, moping about for attention.//

Well. Maybe a little bit, yes.

Well. He said it.

"Yes," Sherlock replied replied distractedly, picking a book off the shelf to flip through. "You are."

//...//

You can't win, Jonothon. Sherlock is right, if blunt.

//I'm a walking time bomb, here, and yer telling me that I'm whoring myself out for attention when I get down on myself?//

Yep!

Sherlock snapped the book shut, tucking it under his arm as one to keep before reaching for a new one. "And just why are you a time bomb again?"

//I...//

Blast it. Jono traipsed merrily along into that one, headfirst.

//Because,// he attempted, somewhat lamely, //there's only so much power that can be placed in th'lap of one person, while still expecting him to keep it under control, constantly.//

Also, fire.

That finally got Sherlock to look him over. Maybe because the book he'd chosen didn't help at all. "That, I believe, would called a cop out."

It totally was, and Jono wouldn't even begin to deny it!

//What, you want me to go into painful, overdramatic, I-am-such-a-special-snowflake detail, instead?//

... Apparently, right along with the cop-out, came really piss-poor attempts at avoiding the subject.

"No, of course not. If you wanted pity or whatever it is expected, John would be your best bet. I couldn't care less about it," Sherlock replied. "All I ask is that you take responsibility or shut up."

//I am,// Jono argued, because he was also a sucker for punishment. //I know very intimately well just what sort of damage I can cause just by being near people. And then they get upset that I won't get closer, because I can barely hold this in on a good day and it has been a long string of very bloody not good days all in a row lately! I just don't want to kill anybody! That's about as responsible as I can be, anymore!//

... Jono. No. You idiot.

Edited 2011-01-30 23:25 (UTC)

Everyone was an idiot, though. So this was nothing new to Sherlock.

"Perhaps you should talk to John then. Discuss your pathological need to flagellate yourself for your past. I'm sure he could pass it along to his therapist," Sherlock replied. "What's done is done. All you can do now is control yourself in the future and avoid those mistakes. If you're too deep into your pointless bout of self pity, then I suppose you'll simply stay alone and in pain rather than move forward."

Ooo, a book on pornographic images in ancient Greece.

Possibly the last thing that Jono was expecting right then was sound advice from Professor Holmes. And yet.

//... I'm not certain where to start,// he attempted. Because that was... honest, at least. And not really as emo as the outburst he'd had a moment before.

"Then think for a change," Sherlock replied, flipping through the book. "Everyone would do a lot better if they simply used their tiny brains for more than how to get laid next."

//Really, now. Getting laid is about th'last thing from my mind.//

Because then he would panic, and light somebody on fire, and it would be an all-around disaster that he inevitably would never be able to forgive himself for. Ever.

"Then you're already a step ahead."

See Jono. See Jono raise a fist in the air in some sort of half-assed victory pose. Go him, go.

//Brilliant.// A pause. //Finding what you need, there?//

Books were so much easier to talk about.

"Of course." Sherlock put another book back before finding another. "Now, what is your next step."

//Mine?//

He didn't suppose that 'live the rest of my life in denial while shying away from human touch and affection' was the answer that Sherlock was looking for, here.

//Try to... get a grasp on... myself. So that I don't hurt anybody again. I think.//

He had no idea how he would go about doing that.

Library, [01/30]

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