Bucky, yeah. [John sets down his Sudoku and looks over at Mycroft, expression flat and tone dead serious.] Sounds like you deserved what you got. Don't go near him or talk to him again, please. He will kill you.
Well, now I do, after he told me, but I should hardly think that deserves killing someone! I was asking about the severing for myself! He seemed overly concerned I'd do it to other people--
[Bacall pipes up.]
Which we might in extenuating circumstances, in order to protect Sherlock.
Yeah, well, you're an arsehole who only cares about one person. And you remind him of the Nazi's that tortured him. Congratulations.
[John rises and moves over to where Mycroft is, looming far more than a man who's all of 5'6" should be capable of.]
If you try to talk to him about anything like that again, I will stop you, Mycroft. And I will hurt you. Which you're gonna prefer over him snapping your neck like a pencil.
[Mycroft's eyes widen, as he looks up at John and his looming. After being punched completely out, he's not going to push his luck further with either of these men. He swallows.]
Yes. Well, you can be rest assured I won't be. He's made his point.
...and you've made yours as well.
[Somehow he doubted Sherlock would come to his rescue in this case. He'd probably film it.
Bacall pecks at him again, angrily.]
Perhaps you should take away more from this? As in you're reminding that poor man of such evil?
[Mycroft tries to push her off of his chest, but she digs her talons in painfully.]
You can't get rid of me so easily, Mycroft Holmes! You cannot ignore me!
It was an agreement in exchange for something. [Bacall wasn't going to let the proverbial cat out of the bag, but she'd say as much as she could.] Berit is wise, she knew how badly Mycroft needed me.
Yes, and you'll be gone in a few days. [Mycroft snaps, irritated. Which showed just how much he wanted rid of her, if he couldn't just wait out the rest of the week.]
Maybe, maybe not. You're not showing any progress at all. In fact, you've gotten worse.
[Bacall turned to John.] We're also meant to have therapy, which was another agreement with Sherlock, even before the wish. Mycroft hasn't done a thing to pursue it.
[Why does this have to be him? He signed up to be Sherlock's best friend, not Mycroft's personal therapist. Fine. Well, fine. John sits on the edge of the table so he isn't standing over the other man, and clears his throat.]
D'you know what your triggers are? For the panic attacks.
[Mycroft gingerly sits up, and Bacall releases her talons and nestles in his lap. He clearly didn't want to talk about this, but...]
Not always.
[This was dreadfully embarrassing.]
It...seems to be mostly enclosed spaces. [That sounded harmless and fairly common enough.]
[Bacall sighs and pipes up.] And people with cloaked hoods, feeling trapped, being restrained, loud sudden noises, prophet eyes, and any sensation that causes us to be afraid or reminds us of the torture we endured in Norfinbury, pretty much. We've been having terrible nightmares about such, waking up with panic attacks.
Royce wears a cloak with a hood. So does Phil sometimes. Not sure if you've run into them yet. It's something to be aware of. Psyching yourself up for something can help when you're having to deal with them. You can also probably ask them to pull the hood down when they're talking to you. Politely. Explain to them it's specifically because you have problems focusing when their hood is up because of things that happened in Norfinbury. You can leave it there. You'll likely get used to seeing them, specifically with repeated exposure and that particular trigger will fade for the most part. I'll let Royce know it's best he doesn't sneak up on you.
No one has Prophet eyes here, so that shouldn't be an issue. Being restrained... well, don't piss people off and that should be a non-issue. When d'you feel trapped? And how small does the enclosed space need to be? Most of the buildings here are fairly open, but the windmills a fairly narrow structure. The Observatory's relatively small, as well, so you might want to avoid those.
[John is about practical solutions too the problems. He's not so good with going over the whys, and he doesn't expect Mycroft wants to right now.]
[Mycroft sits very stiffly, he's clearly very uncomfortable with this. The fact that he'd need to actually...ask...someone to adjust their cloak because it bothered him was...upsetting. Bacall warbled softly and fluffed her feathers.]
I have. [And with Royce it had been near disastrous, he'd assumed he was one of them.]
I'm sure I'll be fine. It probably won't need to come to that.
[That gets a warble of disapproval from the bird in his lap. Mycroft coughs and continues.]
The library is fine, my house is fine. It's really not so bad.
[Bacall pecks at a finger, but gently, and looks over at John.] We always leave the door open to our house.
[John doesn't want to talk about this either and his own posture telegraphs his discomfort in rolling waves. He has his own little tricks to deal with his personal issues and he doesn't particularly want Mycroft to be aware of and start picking those apart. His reluctance to join the Town Guard on a regular basis had been at least partly thanks to the idea that someone would be able to take note of any regular patrol he was on and either stalk him or evade him. Better to make shorter, more sporadic forays that aren't as predictable. He never visits the same hunting grounds twice in a row, either.]
That's gonna be a problem come winter. The seasons here change suddenly. One day to the next, it'll go from fall leaves to three feet of snow. [John's mentally bracing himself for that shift because it's going to be... difficult if he's here to witness it. Just the thought of it now is sending his heart rate ticking up.]
I don't care how fine you're gonna pretend you are, by the way. Whatever you say doesn't leave this clinic. Sherlock's worried about you. That's the only reason this is happening. [He gestures between the two of them.] So, the sooner you're actually better and have a handle on things so you're not panicking regularly, the better it is for the both of us.
[There's a long pause before John crosses his arms and looks away.] Sometimes you won't see it coming. Most people are generally pretty sympathetic around here. Had an episode a couple of months back. It was raining and there's a woman who's a psychic here. She put up a barrier so I couldn't feel the rain. Reminded me of something that happened in Norfinbury. I lost it, started yelling at her. She dropped the shield, sat with me for a bit in her house.
The fact that you will be fine doesn't mean that you are fine. Don't make light of it. It's not something to make light of.
[He didn't want to even think about what that was going to be like. Bacall shuddered in his lap.
He looks over at John, discomfort clearly on his face. The fact that Sherlock was worried about him said quite a lot. John's story isn't lost on him, the fact that there were people who were psychic was...worrisome in and of itself.]
These things go away in time. That's all I need, really, time.
[Or was that just another lie he was telling himself?]
Sherlock seems to think you need more than that. And it doesn't go away, Mycroft. It fades to the background, but it doesn't just disappear. Not unless you do something about it. Find someone you trust. Talk to them. Talk to Milla or Sasha--they're trained for this. I don't know why Sherlock thinks you're gonna open up to me.
Oh, I know he faked his death and you helped with that, by the by. You're a lovely actor. [It's a bitter snipe, but he can't help it. It's something that's been on his mind ever since Mycroft turned up here.]
We don't trust anyone, not with this, not with our thoughts. [Bacall speaks up first, softly.] Sherlock thinks it embarrassing, but mostly we're afraid of admitting we're just as human as anyone else, and that our great intellect can't fight this. We'd rather speak to you than them, we trust you far more than anyone else here besides Sherlock, but even back home, even more than our subordinates. After all, you can get through to Sherlock where we never could.
Bacall! [Mycroft is aghast, hissing, trying to cover the bird's beak with his hands and stop her from saying anymore, but she pecks his fingers harshly and continues.]
It was for the greater good, the safety of the entire nation and possibly the world, John, and we're sorry you were so upset by it. It was a necessary sacrifice on your part. We figured that you're a good soldier, and you'd carry on. We monitored you, kept a file on you during the interim, just to be sure how you were doing, if that is any reassurance.
[Terrible! Mycroft tries to stuff her face in his suit jacket, but she bites him again and continues.]
You're such a vital part of Sherlock's life, John Watson, we never have forgotten how much you mean to him and how much he means to you. You're part of our family, and you're under our protection as well.
[Good God, this was never going to end. Was his Heart truly this foolishly sentimental? Mycroft quickly butts in before she goes off and tells him he reminds them of Sherlock's old best friend or something.]
[John's simmering resentment takes a backseat to surprise. He and Mycroft had rarely gotten on. They rarely spoke, and their last conversation, as far as John is aware, had been the one at the Diogenes Club with John berating Mycroft for giving away Sherlock's life story to Moriarty.
To hear anything complimentary from the elder Holmes is rare, indeed. Usually John was just being ordered around by him.
The mention of 'monitoring' really does nothing for his personal paranoia levels, either. He lets that slide for now, but makes a mental notes to be more vigilant if he ever makes it back to London.
It's the last question that lets John get his composure together enough to respond.]
It's 2012 for me. [Just a few months after Sherlock's 'death.'] What year is it for you?
[Both Mycroft and Bacall look at him with the same expression of surprise.
He knows of the time differential between him and Sherlock, but this...five years? No wonder he asked about Sherlock's faked death.]
I...see. It was 2017.
[The events of Sherrinford seemed like a lifetime ago, though, after Norfinbury.
Though back in Norfinbury, John obviously knew Mary and had come from a time not long from his own. Mary had discussed something similar of the sort when he first arrived, she'd mentioned that John said nothing of Norfinbury to her back in their own home world. So he'd been returned to their home with no memory of his time there, and brought back to Norfinbury later knowing her, of course. Or maybe this difference here in the Meadous was the disparity between their the alternate universes. The Norfinbury of John here versus his own.
Bacall huffs at the same time Mycroft does.
Someone was going to need to start a new field of study on the multiverse if there wasn't a proper book about it in the library already.]
So. Whatever's happened for you to make us family... I don't have that. This is gonna be a bit hard on us at the start if you have me as a therapist. Not trying to put you off, just making you aware. I don't want any confusion about who knows what and who's from when.
[He had enough of that with Sherlock in Norfinbury.]
I'm aware of a woman named Mary that I'm meant to marry... who's also dead now. So anything related to her, you're welcome to be open with. [There's no particular emotion attached to her, and that might be easy to read in John's tone.] I'm not particularly worried about mucking up the timeline. It'll be mucked up enough, as is, for everything I know.
[Mycroft rubs the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth. This was terribly embarrassing. He could hardly accept it himself, considering John as part of his family was hard won enough, and the idiot bird goes about blabbing like he was a sentimental old fool about it.
Though, it was disconcerting how he mentioned Mary so...clinically. If there were any doubts about his origins, they were certainly put to rest.]
We appreciate this very much, John. [Bacall blurts out.] We understand there are other therapists and this isn't your actual line of work.
[An pained groan from Mycroft.] This is going to be a disaster.
[It's so bizarre to see that Mycroft has a genuine softer side in the form of his Heart. She's so much nicer than he is.]
There's a reason I didn't wish to keep my Heart. [It's noted mildly.] I'd say you're more out of touch with Bacall than I was with Brava, though. Especially if you want to cut her away. You think she's the reason you're feeling the way you do now? The panic attacks?
[That gets a pecking again. Mycroft glares at her and snatches his fingers back.]
As much as I would like to blame her, no. I've been experiencing them before she arrived. After the...incident in Norfinbury that occurred before I got here.
[Bacall shuddered and curled up more on his lap, speaking softly.]
We've been buried for a long time, John, far too long. But what was done to us in Norfinbury nearly ruined us. It broke us, shattered us.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Kill me!? Just for having a simple inquiry? Ouch--
[Bacall pecks him angrily in the chest.]
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You told him you wanted to sever your Heart. Do you have any idea what that 'simple inquiry' means?
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[Bacall pipes up.]
Which we might in extenuating circumstances, in order to protect Sherlock.
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[John rises and moves over to where Mycroft is, looming far more than a man who's all of 5'6" should be capable of.]
If you try to talk to him about anything like that again, I will stop you, Mycroft. And I will hurt you. Which you're gonna prefer over him snapping your neck like a pencil.
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Yes. Well, you can be rest assured I won't be. He's made his point.
...and you've made yours as well.
[Somehow he doubted Sherlock would come to his rescue in this case. He'd probably film it.
Bacall pecks at him again, angrily.]
Perhaps you should take away more from this? As in you're reminding that poor man of such evil?
[Mycroft tries to push her off of his chest, but she digs her talons in painfully.]
You can't get rid of me so easily, Mycroft Holmes! You cannot ignore me!
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Why did he wish for you if he was gonna be like this, then? Did Sherlock and Berit bait him to see what you'd be like?
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Yes, and you'll be gone in a few days. [Mycroft snaps, irritated. Which showed just how much he wanted rid of her, if he couldn't just wait out the rest of the week.]
Maybe, maybe not. You're not showing any progress at all. In fact, you've gotten worse.
[Bacall turned to John.] We're also meant to have therapy, which was another agreement with Sherlock, even before the wish. Mycroft hasn't done a thing to pursue it.
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[That gets another pecking. Bacall tilts her head and looks at John, fixing her intense gaze on him.]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health
D'you know what your triggers are? For the panic attacks.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Not always.
[This was dreadfully embarrassing.]
It...seems to be mostly enclosed spaces. [That sounded harmless and fairly common enough.]
[Bacall sighs and pipes up.] And people with cloaked hoods, feeling trapped, being restrained, loud sudden noises, prophet eyes, and any sensation that causes us to be afraid or reminds us of the torture we endured in Norfinbury, pretty much. We've been having terrible nightmares about such, waking up with panic attacks.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Royce wears a cloak with a hood. So does Phil sometimes. Not sure if you've run into them yet. It's something to be aware of. Psyching yourself up for something can help when you're having to deal with them. You can also probably ask them to pull the hood down when they're talking to you. Politely. Explain to them it's specifically because you have problems focusing when their hood is up because of things that happened in Norfinbury. You can leave it there. You'll likely get used to seeing them, specifically with repeated exposure and that particular trigger will fade for the most part. I'll let Royce know it's best he doesn't sneak up on you.
No one has Prophet eyes here, so that shouldn't be an issue. Being restrained... well, don't piss people off and that should be a non-issue. When d'you feel trapped? And how small does the enclosed space need to be? Most of the buildings here are fairly open, but the windmills a fairly narrow structure. The Observatory's relatively small, as well, so you might want to avoid those.
[John is about practical solutions too the problems. He's not so good with going over the whys, and he doesn't expect Mycroft wants to right now.]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
I have. [And with Royce it had been near disastrous, he'd assumed he was one of them.]
I'm sure I'll be fine. It probably won't need to come to that.
[That gets a warble of disapproval from the bird in his lap. Mycroft coughs and continues.]
The library is fine, my house is fine. It's really not so bad.
[Bacall pecks at a finger, but gently, and looks over at John.] We always leave the door open to our house.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
That's gonna be a problem come winter. The seasons here change suddenly. One day to the next, it'll go from fall leaves to three feet of snow. [John's mentally bracing himself for that shift because it's going to be... difficult if he's here to witness it. Just the thought of it now is sending his heart rate ticking up.]
I don't care how fine you're gonna pretend you are, by the way. Whatever you say doesn't leave this clinic. Sherlock's worried about you. That's the only reason this is happening. [He gestures between the two of them.] So, the sooner you're actually better and have a handle on things so you're not panicking regularly, the better it is for the both of us.
[There's a long pause before John crosses his arms and looks away.] Sometimes you won't see it coming. Most people are generally pretty sympathetic around here. Had an episode a couple of months back. It was raining and there's a woman who's a psychic here. She put up a barrier so I couldn't feel the rain. Reminded me of something that happened in Norfinbury. I lost it, started yelling at her. She dropped the shield, sat with me for a bit in her house.
The fact that you will be fine doesn't mean that you are fine. Don't make light of it. It's not something to make light of.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
[He didn't want to even think about what that was going to be like. Bacall shuddered in his lap.
He looks over at John, discomfort clearly on his face. The fact that Sherlock was worried about him said quite a lot. John's story isn't lost on him, the fact that there were people who were psychic was...worrisome in and of itself.]
These things go away in time. That's all I need, really, time.
[Or was that just another lie he was telling himself?]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Oh, I know he faked his death and you helped with that, by the by. You're a lovely actor. [It's a bitter snipe, but he can't help it. It's something that's been on his mind ever since Mycroft turned up here.]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Bacall! [Mycroft is aghast, hissing, trying to cover the bird's beak with his hands and stop her from saying anymore, but she pecks his fingers harshly and continues.]
It was for the greater good, the safety of the entire nation and possibly the world, John, and we're sorry you were so upset by it. It was a necessary sacrifice on your part. We figured that you're a good soldier, and you'd carry on. We monitored you, kept a file on you during the interim, just to be sure how you were doing, if that is any reassurance.
[Terrible! Mycroft tries to stuff her face in his suit jacket, but she bites him again and continues.]
You're such a vital part of Sherlock's life, John Watson, we never have forgotten how much you mean to him and how much he means to you. You're part of our family, and you're under our protection as well.
[Good God, this was never going to end. Was his Heart truly this foolishly sentimental? Mycroft quickly butts in before she goes off and tells him he reminds them of Sherlock's old best friend or something.]
Why are you still going on about his faked death?
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
To hear anything complimentary from the elder Holmes is rare, indeed. Usually John was just being ordered around by him.
The mention of 'monitoring' really does nothing for his personal paranoia levels, either. He lets that slide for now, but makes a mental notes to be more vigilant if he ever makes it back to London.
It's the last question that lets John get his composure together enough to respond.]
It's 2012 for me. [Just a few months after Sherlock's 'death.'] What year is it for you?
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
He knows of the time differential between him and Sherlock, but this...five years?
No wonder he asked about Sherlock's faked death.]
I...see. It was 2017.
[The events of Sherrinford seemed like a lifetime ago, though, after Norfinbury.
Though back in Norfinbury, John obviously knew Mary and had come from a time not long from his own. Mary had discussed something similar of the sort when he first arrived, she'd mentioned that John said nothing of Norfinbury to her back in their own home world. So he'd been returned to their home with no memory of his time there, and brought back to Norfinbury later knowing her, of course. Or maybe this difference here in the Meadous was the disparity between their the alternate universes. The Norfinbury of John here versus his own.
Bacall huffs at the same time Mycroft does.
Someone was going to need to start a new field of study on the multiverse if there wasn't a proper book about it in the library already.]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
[He had enough of that with Sherlock in Norfinbury.]
I'm aware of a woman named Mary that I'm meant to marry... who's also dead now. So anything related to her, you're welcome to be open with. [There's no particular emotion attached to her, and that might be easy to read in John's tone.] I'm not particularly worried about mucking up the timeline. It'll be mucked up enough, as is, for everything I know.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
[Mycroft rubs the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth. This was terribly embarrassing. He could hardly accept it himself, considering John as part of his family was hard won enough, and the idiot bird goes about blabbing like he was a sentimental old fool about it.
Though, it was disconcerting how he mentioned Mary so...clinically. If there were any doubts about his origins, they were certainly put to rest.]
We appreciate this very much, John. [Bacall blurts out.] We understand there are other therapists and this isn't your actual line of work.
[An pained groan from Mycroft.] This is going to be a disaster.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
There's a reason I didn't wish to keep my Heart. [It's noted mildly.] I'd say you're more out of touch with Bacall than I was with Brava, though. Especially if you want to cut her away. You think she's the reason you're feeling the way you do now? The panic attacks?
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
[That gets a pecking again. Mycroft glares at her and snatches his fingers back.]
As much as I would like to blame her, no. I've been experiencing them before she arrived. After the...incident in Norfinbury that occurred before I got here.
[Bacall shuddered and curled up more on his lap, speaking softly.]
We've been buried for a long time, John, far too long. But what was done to us in Norfinbury nearly ruined us. It broke us, shattered us.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
After a moment, he sighs and rises, gesturing for Mycroft and Bacall to follow him.]
Let's get some ice on your eye and we can talk it over. You're gonna have a beauty of a bruise.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture