[ He almost asks for this person's name- he'd have an easier time convincing them, he'd bet, and then Watson would open up. But it still seems like too much work. He sighs, clearly disappointed, but his voice is light as he speaks. ]
I get it. Okay. I'll ask Stephen instead. Thanks for your time, Doc.
[ Welp, there goes that light tone. He's frustrated now. ]
Tried that, back home. Multiple times, actually. It never works. People let their guard down way too much, and having a guard on me just makes me think up more ways to escape them. It's a survival instinct.
I thought of staying away from people entirely here, but Al's not gonna let that happen. So why not the nanomachines? I'm already hoping they'll help after we're out of here. We're already being heavily affected by them. Why not use them to get a handle on myself, when I clearly can't do it on my own?
We're already being slowly poisoned with MN. You don't think this is going to speed it up? You saw the patient who attacked Jia Xu. I don't think he felt a thing when he was killing her. I doubt he was even feeling particularly murderous.
All right. I'll put in a prescription. You should be able to find it tomorrow. Hold tight until then, Brian. Let me know before you run out next time, all right?
I don't know what it's actually doing, and that's half the problem. The articles Eve's given me on the procedure aren't very detailed. I've not talked to Stein to follow-up with him. I've asked him to stop speaking with me. Again, you're free to contact him to ask.
[ Ugh, he doesn't want to talk to Stein. But maybe he'll consider it. ]
Well, how about I try it and I can give you an accurate description of what happens? An experiment. Because I doubt whatever it's going to do is going to make me more murderous than I already am.
I get it, you don't want to be responsible for something that ultimately makes people worse. You don't want to break your promise again. Believe me when I say that I would've looked into this on my own, anyway.
[The problem with that offer is that John wants to say yes to it, but a part of him feels like even that much would be betraying Bucky's trust. It takes him a long moment to reply, and when he does, his voice is clearly conflicted.]
[Unfortunately for Karkat, his think pan never really leaves him alone after a major fuck up, so. Here he is.]
HEY UH SORRY ABOUT YESTERDAY. I KNOW YOU AND SHERLOCK DON'T VIEW YOUR RELATIONSHIP THAT WAY. I'VE JUST BEEN HAVING A REALLY SHITTY TIME LATELY AND I TOOK IT OUT ON YOU.
IF YOU WERE TROLLS, THERE WOULD BE NO QUESTION ABOUT IT, BUT I DO IN FACT UNDERSTAND THAT HUMANS DON'T USUALLY HAVE THOSE SORTS OF FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER. OR MAYBE THEY CAN'T. WHATEVER. AND MY ARM IS FINE NOW. STILL NOT SURE HOW THE FUCK DYING HEALS THINGS LIKE THAT BUT WHATEVER, I'M NOT GOING TO QUESTION IT.
[John's sleep is fitful at the best of times these days. Between Rosie and his ensuing depressive spiral and insomnia with Mary's loss at home, everything that is Norfinbury, and a natural propensity toward light sleeping from med school and the military, he's awake as soon as Sherlock takes a few steps in. He lies still, waiting to see what the other man will do for a few seconds before it becomes apparent what he's up to.
He rolls over to face the other man in the dark and his voice is quiet, steady.]
Sherlock, if you stop now and leave, I'm gonna pretend you just came looking for a midnight snack. If not, we're gonna need to have a talk. [That talk being 'stay the hell out of the drugs.']
I think it's really just a matter of definitions. For me, being in love with someone would mean I'd want to be physically intimate with them. I'll hug him now and again, but that's about as far as either of us are interested. You'd probably find other humans who'd be amenable to a broader definition.
Glad to hear your arm is fully healed. Where are you now? We're heading west along the south wall of the residential area.
PHYSICAL INTIMACY IS ONLY PART OF IT AND DOESN'T NEED TO BE SEXUAL. AT LEAST FOR US. LOOK, I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT, OK? IT'S JUST COMPLICATED. AND I'M STILL BY THE SCHOOL AND HEADING EAST. I HAVE A LOT OF FOOD FROM THE CAFETERIA, WHICH SHOULD BE BETTER THAN EVERYTHING FROM THE CONVENIENCE STORE? SO THAT SHOULD HELP.
He could just walk away as John suggests, but he hates slinking around as if he's done something wrong, hates backing down. So he simply bends over John's pack and begins rummaging through without taking care over the noise any longer, since it's obvious John is awake.]
[Bloody hell. John pushes himself up, taking care as best he can not to disturb Mary. A hand clamps over one of Sherlock's wrists and John rises up, trying to pull the other man away firmly, but gently.]
You won't find anything there, anyway. I gave everything to Mary to take with her to Stephen.
[It's a bald-faced lie, but he can hope in the darkness that Sherlock won't be able to really tell.]
[For a long moment, John is thrown. Is that what he came stealing over for? That's... no. No, that's not it. Sherlock would just ask for his shampoo in the morning if he were really wanting that. It's the drugs. Isn't it?]
I'm too tired to play games right now, Sherlock. If you want shampoo, I'll get it out for you.
I can get it myself, you'll wake Mary if you get up.
[He's still digging through the pack as he speaks. Are the drugs there? Any of them, though he'd prefer a selection if possible. He can already see the shampoo, but he's stalling for time.]
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