InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "The Fist will return!"

John Watson internationally smuggles tea (imhisblogger) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2013-04-08 00:22:00

Entry tags:

john watson, robin hood

Who:Robin and John
What:Meet up at the range of random again.
When:Late tonight.
Where:Range!
Warnings:TBA

He'd been trying to be okay. Trying to move on with his life. At the very least, trying not to bother the friends he had with it. It still hurt. Time wasn't a thing that was fixing this and John was worrying. The things he saw at night he couldn't even put into words. The things he saw during the day were hardly better, but at least there were distractions. Friends he could talk to, people who were still there and hadn't left. Sherlock was gone. Gone. He couldn't just come back, no matter how much John wished he could. No matter how many magical beings said they could. He shouldn't. Not like that. John knew it wasn't right. Still some of his thoughts veered away. So many magical beings that could do miracles but none could help.

It was windy out, John didn't care. He grabbed a sport coat and headed for the range. He needed to get his head together. At this rate they all probably thought he was batty and he wouldn't blame a single one. Some days he thought he was. Once he'd reassured Kat that he was going to be fine, he left. Once she had left him alone, and Rose had gone to sleep the house was full of memories. Full of things he wished to forget. He left a note and left it behind.

His only thoughts were that he needed to be away. He didn't care where, or how far he had to walk, just away. The wind tossed his hair and all sort of directions. It was nice though. It gave him exactly the numbing distraction he needed. He pulled his gloves out of his pocket and slipped them on both hands and just walked. A slight limp making the walk more difficult than he planned, but he didn't go back for his cane. He wasn't even sure where it was. There was no point. Just like he knew there was no real point to looking back at the past. Logically he knew that, but somewhere amongst the logic and emotions he got all screwed up. Everything was a mess and he didn't have the faintest idea how to fix it.

Pausing at the archery and shooting range, he stepped toward it. Staring down at the bench for a good long while before frustration settled in. He didn't want to sit. He didn't want to take a breather. He wanted things t be as they once were but he didn't know how to reset them. He kicked it over and glared at the rest of the range as though it were to blame.

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robinofthehood
2013-04-08 08:09 am UTC (link)

There had been times when Robin had come here because he'd been angry, or upset, and needed to work things out. Tonight, he needed to get rid of some energy or he knew he'd never sleep, no matter what he had to take to help the process along.

Much had done something amazing and once again proven to Robin what an incredible friend he was, and the lengths he went to for that friendship. Once it got later, it had been too cold for them to stay out in the tree house, and Robin had been able to tell Much hadn't wanted to be up quite so high any longer. Not that he'd ever enjoyed it. So they'd gone back home, and after a while Robin had come to the range.

He hadn't been there all that long when some movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see John kicking over a bench, the frustration clear on his face.

He leaned his arms on top of his bow where it rested against the ground, his expression holding the smallest hint of amusement. "Whatever the bench did, it did not mean it."

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imhisblogger
2013-04-08 08:22 am UTC (link)

John might have continued to kick that bench if Robin's voice hadn't interrupted his internal ranting. He turned to look at him with a raised sandy blond eyebrow. "It got in the way, clearly it did." He said with a faint annoyance remaining in his voice. Part of him wished Kat really had found Calm the Fuck Down Tea, he would have taken it. His nerves were frayed and it showed despite his attempts to hide it.

Not only were his memories playing tricks, but he'd nearly gotten into a fight he couldn't handle at the moment with Sherlock. The other one that wasn't his. Not his. He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't his Sherlock. No matter how he acted, or what his name was, or what his history may have been. It wasn't his. John needed to separate them again and at that point in time struggled to do so.

He looked over at the familiar outlaw with a small frown. "Sorry." He offered a little uncomfortably.

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robinofthehood
2013-04-08 08:33 am UTC (link)

Robin shrugged when John apologised. "It's not my bench. I feel a bit sorry for your foot, though. Something on your mind?" He asked lightly, not necessarily pushing John to talk, but giving him the chance if he wanted it.

It was obvious enough something was bothering him. He wouldn't have kicked the bench if there wasn't. He walked over to where John was standing by the bench, glancing down at it, then back up at John with a mock curious expression. "Did you come here to use the range, or do you and the bench need some time alone?"

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imhisblogger
2013-04-09 07:29 pm UTC (link)

John just frowned at the bench. Sometimes he really hated Kansas. It was supposed to be a second chance for them both. "You know, I lost him at home too." He began without meaning to. He didn't particularly want to talk about Sherlock anymore. All it did was drive away his friends and he didn't want to push Robin away as he had Jacen. Or the medbay. "It doesn't matter." He knew he wasn't the only one who'd lost people they cared about, so why couldn't he get past that wall that was right infront of his face? He rubbed his face with his gloved hand in frustration and looked over as Robin came nearer.

"Yeah, yeah I did. Thought it might help..." rid of the memories. John put his hands in his coat pocket. "I don't know what will help." It seemed nothing helped these days. Sometimes he felt he was going to snap, other days he was fine. And others he was all over the charts. This happened to be one of those days where he was everywhere. Restless and unhappy.

"I have no idea what I'm doing." He confessed with a half hearted smile.

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