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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"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.

"Haven't a clue why not," Sherlock replied dryly. There might have been just a hint of a smile there.

Really, between Jono being British and the fact that he'd spent the last few years managing to emote without benefit of a mouth, the hint of a smile wasn't very difficult for him to catch.

//Probably something t'do with yer winning personality,// he suggested. And then shrugged a little. //But... it is good advice.//

He just had to figure out who to turn to with it. Emma? Professor Kerrigan? Professor Skywalker?

... He'd... figure something out.

"Excellent." Sherlock gathered up the books he'd selected. "That will be all."

Jonothon nodded, turning a thoughtful glance toward Sherlock.

//Thank you.//

He had to say that. Whether or not Sherlock cared. He had to say it.

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Library, [01/30]

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