InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm not your girlfriend."

John Watson internationally smuggles tea (imhisblogger) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2013-10-29 02:34:00

Entry tags:

armand st.just, john watson

Who:John Watson and OPEN or it works as a narrative
What:Downward spiral of thoughts.
When:Tonight around midnightish. Sleep? What is sleep.
Where:The city and then the cemetery
ooc note~ John won't be returning to the inn until probably the afternoon of the next day unless someone does want to tag in :D]

The longer he stayed at the inn the more of a risk he was. He was putting every single one of his friends in danger just by existing, and it was maddening. Each of them kept telling him the same words, he was stronger than that. He was stronger than what? Stronger than the man that had taken the life of his best friend? Possibly, but the demon?...he severely doubted that. Mentally was probably a different thing all together. As he walked through the city, umbrella in hand he passed by several bars. Several chances he could have taken for the easy way out. Each one a little more difficult than the last but he kept walking. He needed the air. Every time he was inside somewhere or stopped walking he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore.

He needed to get out of his head.

John was more tired of Moriarty than any one of them could imagine. Death threats week to week were exhausting. Draining really. He knew all about mind games and yet he felt the demon tugging at him. Not physically but mentally just a little bit more each time. How long was it going to be? God he wanted to be stronger than that. He desperately wanted to. And yet he was out walking past midnight as though it were the last thing he could do to keep himself sane. He didn't even know where he was going, he was just getting as much space between him and the inn as he could possibly get. He had his phone, but it was on silent. He didn't have much of a voice for chatting.

He was tired of feeling. Sherlock told him once that his emotion would get him hurt, and he was right. John didn't want to admit it, he was supposed to be the human component of the two but maybe Sherlock was right.

It opened him up to be manipulated and used and hurt and he was angry. He was angry at everything. He'd only just recently begun feeling like himself again when Moriarty was shoved back down his throat like a bitter medicine. Why woudn't Kansas let him move on? Every time he got back up that city did it's damndest to knock him down again. Why did Sherlock continue to haunt him not only in dreams but now even with his eyes wide open? Was this payment for something he'd done wrong? All he'd done was be his friend.

All he'd wanted was another chance, and instead of a miracle it ended up being a curse.

He had walked toward the cemetery, but he didn't enter. He couldn't bring himself to. He was almost sure Moriarty had men there, snipers. And if he didn't?..so what. What did it matter?

He just watched by the entrance, letting the chill of the night numb him through. Numbing was easier than feeling.

(Post a new comment)

iwanttohelp
2013-10-29 11:12 am UTC (link)

Armand couldn't sleep. It had been like this since the explosion, where any sleep he did get was fragmented and painfully short. He had rather closed himself off to everyone, ignored the boards, not done much socializing, not even with those he considered his friends. Losing his family and then losing his home was something that hit him harder than he had wanted to admit. He wasn't quite pushing everyone away, but he wasn't letting anyone in, either.

Eponine would skin him alive if she knew he had left to go for a walk. These were dangerous times in a dangerous place. He remembered the post that John had made, about how he was making everyone at the inn a target just by being there. and perhaps that demon would love to pick someone who wasn't John off to make him feel guilt. But he couldn't stay there anymore, not tonight. It was too suffocating, and there was only so much pacing he could do without feeling like a caged animal.

He had been wandering aimlessly and ended up by the cemetery. He had fully expected only to see people exiting bars out this late at night, but there was a man at the entrance, just standing there. He was almost afraid to approach him, but the closer he got he saw that it was John Watson. If it was dangerous for him to be out it was doubly so for John. He approached slowly, and stood near him but not too close. He stood there quietly for a moment, so John could realize he was there, and then he spoke. "It is perhaps not the brightest idea for either of us to be out tonight, and yet here we are," he said quietly. "I take it you also could not sleep?"

(Reply to this) (Thread)

imhisblogger
2013-10-29 03:13 pm UTC (link)

He heard someone approaching long before they spoke, and John had his hand near his gun. It was concealed. He knew he didn't meet all the regulations to carry concealed weapons, but he didn't particularly care. He cared so little infact that he carried two. Moriarty threatened to kill him almost every week, as well as did the rest of the supernatural creatures in Kansas. There was an apocalypse, he wasn't going to waste much time worrying about gun laws, but still he tried to be a little discrete. He was a sniper after all.

And then the voice followed the movement which likely meant no harm would follow. He didn't know Armand well. Hell he barely knew him at all. And right now his mood was so fowl he really wasn't ready to get to know him either. Raising an eyebrow he shrugged. "Indeed we are." He didn't particularly feel like talking, especially at this place. His jaw locked sternly. "Don't sleep much these days." Talking near Sherlock's final resting place just seemed out of sorts, and John could only watch the rain beyond Armand idly. The friendly concern he showed his patients was gone, he was left with whatever energy he had remaining to stand and function on a physical level and it wasn't much.

"Nothing new to me." What was he supposed to say? Or do for that matter..He really didn't even know where to start to chat with the man. So he went back to leaning against the large stone entry way. He didnt really care much what Eponine thought of his walking alone at night, or anyone else for that matter. He often took Toby with him, but tonight he was dogless, just needing the space to himself desperately.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

iwanttohelp
2013-10-29 03:32 pm UTC (link)

Armand listened to him speak. Perhaps he shouldn't have intruded. It was obvious that John did not want to talk, and he wasn't sure if it was because they were barely acquainted or because he had simply stopped caring. It was hard to tell, but Armand was leaning towards the latter. It almost looked, to him at least, that he had given up all hope. He supposed Moriarty constantly chipping away at a person could do that to anyone. He hated seeing someone so broken, and in most cases he would try and help. That was what he did best, helping. And normally he would try and figure out what to say easily, but that skill was not coming tonight. John might be beyond help, for all he knew. He wasn't quite sure.

"Eponine would kill us both for being out here," he said quietly, trying to think of what to say. "But I see you are armed, so at least you will be safe if things go wrong. It might be concealed, but I come from a time where men carry pistols to engage in duels at dawn. I know what I am looking for." He was quiet for a few more moments, shifting his hold on his umbrella. "If you do not wish to have company I can leave you be. We do not know each other well, I know that. But sometimes I can be a good listener, if you think you could make use of that."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

imhisblogger
2013-10-29 03:51 pm UTC (link)

"Saw that did you?" He raised an eyebrow again. He'd only made the most subtle movement of his hand, he hadn't actually pulled the weapon. It still remained concealed. But he was not stupid to go out without carrying. Though it may yet do him little good if Moriarty did decide to have him shot. "If you are not armed you are in danger just being around me." He knew Moriarty wanted him to isolate, but at that time he really didn't care. He wanted time away from the inn. His friends tried to help but they could only do so much, he needed to be able to breathe too. There were only a couple of them who truly understood what that man had put him through. Twice now.

He wasn't about to talk about him a third time. He shrugged off the comment about Eponine. "I've dealt with Moriarty more than most here have. To not be armed would be suicidal." Not that he cared much about that right in this moment really. "I'm not looking for any duels at dawn." He commented off handedly and frowned a little. He should have been able to strike up any conversation, that's what he was there for. To talk when Sherlock didn't want to, or wouldn't and yet he found himself wordless.

"I'm sorry..I don't think I make great company at the moment. Suppose if you are unarmed I ought to walk you back though." That would be the right thing to do, he had been in contact with him. John wasn't sure what tricks Moriarty had up his sleeve.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

iwanttohelp
2013-10-29 04:00 pm UTC (link)

Armand nodded. "Very well. I will take you up on your offer of an escort back to the inn. I admit, I did not think far enough ahead when I left this evening. I just needed air and space, a way to clear my head that did not involve pacing endlessly in my room. I should have taken better precautions, considering the state of things. Thank you for doing this."

He turned and began making his way back to the inn. "I have wondered if some of us at the inn should be armed," he said after they had been walking for a few moments. "I do know how to use a gun, and with the times such as they are I would probably feel safer if I was armed. I am sure it is not much comfort, the idea of those of us who can protect ourselves trying to, but it is something I have thought we should do to make things easier for everyone." He paused. "Including you. You do not need to protect us all by distancing yourself from us."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

imhisblogger
2013-11-03 02:04 am UTC (link)

"Wise choice." He didn't mean to be short with Armand, but it was not only him he was cross with. John was tired. The fact that everyone kept on about it didn't help. Friends were concerned and he supposed it was only natural, but he was tired of being the subject of concern yet again. Tired of hearing that name Moriarty return over and over into his life when it ought to be laid to rest with the mans death. "This goes beyond protection. I've to look over my shoulder constantly for a damn ghost that ought to have been laid to rest thrice over. Do you have any idea how tired I am of people getting caught up in this stupid game? Of losing friends? I won't have it anymore." He snapped finally at the wrong man.

It wasn't Armands fault he was under so much stress. Not even close, but the stress was enough to rattle even his nerves and he hated it. Moriarty was playing him and winning again. John couldn't see anything but red. He folded his arms uncomfortably as he fell back into silent step beside him for a time.

"All of us should be armed. His threats are not only threats he will make good. He'll get what he wants, he always does. Be armed, be prepared. Don't try to befriend me. It's your best shot at a better life really." John had been hopeful once, that this place would mean a new beginning for him. A chance at a new life, but every damn time he tried Moriarty got in his way. His past followed him and never once did Sherlock.

"He's taken everything from me at one time or another." He looked back over his shoulder, the graveyard nearly out of sight now.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

iwanttohelp
2013-11-06 06:43 pm UTC (link)

Armand listened as he spoke, staying quiet even when it appeared that John was going to get very angry. He had the feeling this was something he needed to get off his chest. If the man was short with him it was understandable; after all, the demon was making his life hell, wasn't he? If he needed to vent angrily at someone Armand preferred it be him and not one of John's actual friends, though he supposed they would understand. But perhaps that was the problem. They might not actually understand, and he wasn't quite sure he did either. Still, if he would be able to help in any small way, even if it meant taking the brunt of an angry tirade, then that was what he would do.

"Then we should take every precaution we can. Not just your friends but those of us at the inn as well," he said. He shifted his umbrella slightly. "There may not be much we could do about a sniper, but there must be other threats. How would you propose we prepare ourselves for those? Aside from being armed, of course. I'm sure that is the most basic of precautions we can take." He watched John glance back at the graveyard. "You should not have to worry about us."

(Reply to this) (Parent)