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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//...//

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.

"By..." Sherlock prompted. Oh so helpfully.

//By...// Oh, lord. //Becoming a bloody hermit somewhere. Lord, I don't know. I know of other telepaths, but that's not what I'm having trouble with.//

Well. He had been on the right track, for a moment there.

Sherlock sighed. "Control is simple once you identify what is wrong."

Or get an intervention. Mycroft.

//I know what's wrong.// Jono's eyebrows furrowed. //Bits of it. There's no safe outlet for me to really learn more about this. Not while I'm here. And so it comes out on its own, in fits and starts, and scares th'naffin' shite out of me when it does.//

"Then find a place where you can learn," Sherlock replied dismissively.

//Had one of those,// Jono replied, stubbornly. //Blew it up.//

Sherlock gave that due thought. "Then it must not have been very good at helping."

Tell Jono about it, Sherlock. The trouble with that scenario had come with pretty eyes and a Southern drawl.

//Funny, innit? Considering it existed for that very purpose.//

Which kind of limited his options. Just a bit.

"Find another place," Sherlock replied. "No one claimed this would be easy."

//No,// Jono agreed, almost a sigh somewhere in that word. //I suppose nobody did.//

There was a long, awkward pause, there.

//Never really expected I'd be standing here, listening to advice from you,// he admitted.

Library, [01/30]

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