[One small, good thing from having that creature around.
Mycroft rubs his face, wanting nothing better to do than throw the bird in a bag to make it shut up. This was far too much, he never wanted anyone to hear those things, much less John.
With a grunt he lifts her and deposits her unceremoniously on the ground, then slowly gets up, with her waddling after him.]
We can't get help if we don't let people know what we're feeling. [A mutter behind him.]
We don't-- [Ugh. This 'we' nonsense.] I just need rest and time. That's all.
Yeah, that maybe helps a bit, but not completely. [Speaking from experience.] Time might heal wounds, but it just leaves you with scars. Think of talking it out like... I dunno, physical therapy. Makes sure everything's working right after the wounds are all closed up.
That's what my therapist said, anyway.
[He means Ella, rather than Milla... or Eurus, a woman he hasn't met, yet.]
[Despite Mycroft knowing that John was not speaking of Eurus, a shiver still escaped him. Eurus tended to produce an unsettled reaction in him, and that was before Sherrinford. Bacall had a similar reaction, and scurried closer to his legs, pressing against them.]
When I first met you, I told you to fire your therapist because she got it wrong. Am I supposed to believe this is another one of her grand conclusions?
[Bacall tugged at his pant leg.] She's right about this. Listen to John, we must talk it out. We've been keeping things inside for far too long and it's only compounded our problems.
Diagnosis was right, I reckon, even if she didn't get there the right way. Treatment was wrong. [PTSD manifests in many forms. He missed the war because it gave him an outlet for his own traumas. He could act out the aggression when he needed to. No one thought twice about a soldier on the battlefield on constant alert.]
Also, Sherlock isn't gonna leave either of us alone until your not jumping at shadows.
[Hmph. All of that gets a sour look. He swats at the bird tugging at his pant leg and gets pecked for his trouble.]
Noted.
[A sigh.]
To avoid that, let's just get on with it, shall we? Must I talk about how things made me feel? Because one certainly can't narrow that down in a snow-covered town-experiment of horrors.
[He's sarcastic, but acquiescing a little. John was right, even if Mycroft had no desire to show anyone how vulnerable he really was. Maybe he could meet this thing in the middle and avoid the most embarrassing parts.]
[The older Holmes takes the bag and thankfully places it over his face, wincing as he does so.]
Hmph. Where to begin? Besides everything.
[He has to think about what won't particularly lead to a distressing line of questioning, but Bacall says something before he can protest. What his Heart truly wanted to talk about.]
It's not so much about personal injury, it's about the lack of control. We're unable to protect Sherlock, he died twice. When we were taken away to be tortured, it was possible we could have been broken, converted into someone who would do the same to Sherlock.
[John's... pretty sure the answer to that is constant surveillance on Sherlock, which isn't happening. He'd tried that and they'd driven each other up the walls.]
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cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Mycroft rubs his face, wanting nothing better to do than throw the bird in a bag to make it shut up. This was far too much, he never wanted anyone to hear those things, much less John.
With a grunt he lifts her and deposits her unceremoniously on the ground, then slowly gets up, with her waddling after him.]
We can't get help if we don't let people know what we're feeling. [A mutter behind him.]
We don't-- [Ugh. This 'we' nonsense.] I just need rest and time. That's all.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
That's what my therapist said, anyway.
[He means Ella, rather than Milla... or Eurus, a woman he hasn't met, yet.]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
When I first met you, I told you to fire your therapist because she got it wrong. Am I supposed to believe this is another one of her grand conclusions?
[Bacall tugged at his pant leg.] She's right about this. Listen to John, we must talk it out. We've been keeping things inside for far too long and it's only compounded our problems.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Also, Sherlock isn't gonna leave either of us alone until your not jumping at shadows.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Noted.
[A sigh.]
To avoid that, let's just get on with it, shall we? Must I talk about how things made me feel? Because one certainly can't narrow that down in a snow-covered town-experiment of horrors.
[He's sarcastic, but acquiescing a little. John was right, even if Mycroft had no desire to show anyone how vulnerable he really was. Maybe he could meet this thing in the middle and avoid the most embarrassing parts.]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
We talk about what you need to talk about. Take it in pieces. One event, one act, something you can focus on.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Hmph. Where to begin? Besides everything.
[He has to think about what won't particularly lead to a distressing line of questioning, but Bacall says something before he can protest. What his Heart truly wanted to talk about.]
It's not so much about personal injury, it's about the lack of control. We're unable to protect Sherlock, he died twice. When we were taken away to be tortured, it was possible we could have been broken, converted into someone who would do the same to Sherlock.
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
[John's... pretty sure the answer to that is constant surveillance on Sherlock, which isn't happening. He'd tried that and they'd driven each other up the walls.]
cw: discussion of PTSD/mental health, torture
Some means of keeping an eye on things.
[You're 100% right, John.
Things, meaning Sherlock, of course.]