maskormenace | 006 | microwaved leftovers

[ or severe depression. ]

Yeah. Unless you've moved since then.

I'll be over in a bit.

[ action? ]

[thisisfine.png]

We haven't. See you soon.

[Sure thing!

The cat's stuff, John might realize, is a bit more than whatever Will took from their place. Additional toys and treats and the like. Will has taken the litterbox, dumped it all, cleaned it, and put the bag of John the cat's necessities inside, nestled beneath the chair just outside their house Will currently occupies all by himself. Well, himself one can of opened beer and one unopened, his Network device nearby. A few pairs of eyes might be watching from the window, a mix of raccoon and dog, but that's to be expected, isn't it? The moment he goes to have the cat outside with him and stay with him is the moment Something Happens to the cat, which is a terrible outcome. So it's just Will and booze and curious animals politely waiting to greet John whenever he shows up.]

[ john wasn't even aware the cat possessed anything that could resemble personal belongings. contact between the cat and his namesake has always been few and far between. sherlock once told him he has never been the most luminous of people but he knows, for a fact, his friend wouldn't have brought him any special toys or treats for the cat while he was here. that leaves only one culprit and one john doesn't want to think about at the moment. it's trouble in paradise that kept him from coming back to heropa after the swearing-in ceremony but obligation that ultimately drew him back.

he would've arrived sooner, but will's house is nestled out of view of the nearest bus stop and the doctor has a quite a way to travel. a battered old hovervespa isn't an appropriate mode of transport for a feline as ornery as the cat. not that john could ride it at the moment – he hobbles around the corner into view, relying heavily on the walking cane the hospital in de chima provided him and nods in greeting once he spots will sitting in his lawn chair. ]

Afternoon.

[John's absence could have been due to the ceremony gone wrong, same as it could have been him simply needing to get out for a while. He hadn't been inclined to ask, didn't mind being in the dark on that one. So of course he isn't expecting a cane, hears it first and immediately thinks of another doctor. Another doctor who's having his own hell of a time at the moment but doesn't actually need his cane. And for a second, Will thinks that Chilton's decided to stop by without warning and talk things over face-to-face, man-to-man. Or wag his finger, whatever.

Then he catches sight of John and buries that down, another feeling of Will's that won't ever be spoken aloud. It's probably best for everyone that way.

He looks up, brow furrowed. Concern over whether he should try to do anything to help John out or just leave it be. There are times when something in a vulnerable state simply needs to be left alone because it can recover and get back on its feet all by itself. John's got a cane, he's out and about. He's a doctor. Surely he's got this, doesn't need Will fussing over him.]

Afternoon. [He nods, smiles, holding out that unopened can of beer and nudging his elbow in the direction of the chair near his own. Sit, stay, sup, watch the world go by.] Wanna take a load off for a bit or you need to get going?

[ internalizing is something john himself excels at and he doesn't acknowledge the look will gives him regarding the cane, hoping the bruises have faded enough for them to go unnoticed. he experienced enough of them when he returned to london with a psychosomatic limp after his military career ended. except now he has a small gnarled knot of scar tissue to match his shoulder and validate the use of the cane gripped tightly in his hand. ]

It doesn't look like I have a choice. [ john remarks wryly, directing a pointed look to the empty chair and untouched can of beer next to him. though he supposes it could be april's or whoever else regularly haunts the ludgate-graham residence more than he does. admittedly though, there's a general pallor that isn't just accentuated by his dark shooting jacket being buttoned all the way up and he wets his lips, trying to keep his weight off of his bad leg. ] I wasn't interrupting anything was I?

[Will lifts one shoulder to accompany the near-roll of his eyes, pulling a face that says no, not at all before he can verbalize it. Why yes, he did pull the chairs up just so for a reason, but if John had something he needed to toddle on off and do, Will hoped he knew that it would never be held against him. Will had just assumed he had a few minutes to spare, and being greeted with a free adult drink and somewhere to take a load off for a while that wasn't home would go over well.]

Not a thing, no. [Conversation, however simple, that isn't about what happened to your leg? is the way to go, feels like. No one wants their obvious vulnerabilities dragged out into the light even further, then bludgeoned.] Cat was taking a nap in our bedroom when I got your message, thought it best to let him rest up before the big journey home.

[That smile returns as Will crosses his ankles, relaxed in John's presence the same as he'd be relaxed if he were all by himself.]

That's generous of you. [ despite his sentiment, john raises his eyebrows. he let him into their bedroom? that's a luxury not available to him at home. casting a look in the direction of the house, he decides it's in his best interests to rest his leg while the cat is still sleeping and takes a seat in the vacant chair. ] Oof. Nice little set-up you've got here.

[Well, with all the little walkways around the house for the raccoons, the cats were bound to pick up that they could use them, too. Even the visitor cats. Will's not particularly bothered by the idea. As long as nothing ends up destroyed beyond repair or replacement? Fine by him.]

We like it. Makes gardening a whole lot easier when you have somewhere to sit other than the ground. [Makes watching the neighborhood easier, too, when it's something that's out there. Normal, not anything to take a second glance at.] You know how long it'll take you to heal up?

[He looks at his leg as he asks before taking a sip of his beer, carefully avoiding anything more personal. Anything about other people involved, if everyone's going to be okay...for now.]

I take it you still haven't gotten the knack for camping, then. [ john remarks quietly, looking straight ahead and watching the world go by, but a wan smile twists the corner of his mouth. it fades when will asks him about his leg and senses him staring at it. rather than turning his head, john picks up the can of beer and becomes engrossed in reading the ingredients printed in small text on the side. ] Uh, about three or four weeks? Unless I decide to play footie, then it'll take even longer.

[No remark on camping, not after his glorious July in the great outdoors chasing Walter White's crazy ass across the country. He simply gives a little shrug, averting his eyes back out in front of them when John takes to reading the can like it's actually going to tell him anything valuable.]

If I catch you trying to play footie, I'll be sure to put a stop to it.

[Said in that low, serious tone of his that barely fits the situation. Which is hopefully what injects some levity back into their little rendezvous and John can forgive him if he feels any boundaries have been overstepped.]

[ will must have been forgiven because he elicits a small chuckle from john and eye contact again. ]

I've always been more of a rugby fan.

[ injuries are a regular occurrence for john watson. if will knows him well enough, that much should be obvious from the week he was fried by lightning. if he brought up a body map, john could point to each area and tell him a short story. just here, he sprained his ankle during a rugby match with the lads at blackheath rugby club; this shoulder, this is where he was shot in afgahnistan and caught a nasty infection afterwards; magnussen's men were generous enough to leave him a small parting gift on his right temple before constructing a bonfire pyre around him. his leg...

... well. he should consider himself lucky the bone hadn't shattered or the femoral artery severed for his most recent injury, but he's demoralized by what happened at the swear-in ceremony. shame hangs over him like a cloud and after reading the ingredients long enough, john rips the ring from the can and drinks a mouthful before talking again. ]

It's fine.

[ about his leg or over-stepping boundaries? it's a mystery. ]

[If only Will had shapeshifting powers. Then he could become Mary and get an up close and personal body map the likes John might not ordinarily give anyone else.]

Rugby's more brutal than American football, isn't it? [He asks after a nod at the fine, taking another sip.] Never played either...didn't have the desire or means to do sports in school. Never got into it after. Had no reason to.

[What he's not saying is that his childhood was too poor for his father to put him in sports, to afford any accidents or upkeep on clothes, accessories, this and that. The dread that Will might get injured and they wouldn't be able to pay for it, however, was the biggest factor. Shoddy knee pads or shoes could be dealt with; a child unable to heal without the family risking homelessness? Not so much.]

[ god. that is a potential horror story. john's been feeling paranoid since the ceremony. anyone whose wandering gaze has lingered a bit too long on him has been subjected to a scrutinizing stare as he tries to figure out whether it's mary or not. that's just one problem with having a missing wife who can shapeshift into anyone she has physical contact with – he doesn't know how many forms she can assume. ]

Mmm... yeah, I'd say so. It's a really physically and mentally demanding sport. There's always something to do. You don't really notice how sore you are until after the match's over. [ this is just a small glimpse into john's blessed middle-class upbringing. now he's drinking beer in the middle of the day with a baltimore pauper. rather than push on with the subject of sports, john decides to play it safe and probes something he knows will is actually interested in. ] How did you take up fishing?

[That cat curling up at John's feet end of the day? Mary.

Will listens with the pinch of interest that lines up to having a question answered, but it's rather clear he's not about to get overly excited about sports (as if Will gets overly excited about much in the first place). It's an adequate answer, one Will can appreciate, same as he can appreciate John checking his privilege and moving onto something else. Something Will gets overly excited about it in the way Will ever does with anything short of murder.]

My father did it. Everyone around us fished in some capacity. Almost seems like I knew how to swim before I knew how to walk, if you can imagine. [He gives a little smile, nostalgic and sad, idly tapping against the can.] Honestly, if I hadn't had the fortune to run across April, you might be coming over to a houseboat instead of a yard.

[In the middle of absolutely nowhere instead of clustered near others, of course.]

You think the cat could go for a house on the sea?

[ he can just imagine the segment title for the jeremy kyle show: help, my wife is a furry!

but john's keen on avoiding another incident like the one from new year's day about privilege, which explains his divergence from the topic of sports and asking about something will is actually passionate about. he's always been good at listening to people talk. plus it's depressing talking about rugby when he can barely walk without his leg aching. ]

I don't know. Maybe? A houseboat's a bit like an apartment isn't it? [ judging by the crease in john's brow, he's genuinely thinking about it. the cat seemed far happier back when he was in sherlock's care. john can't blame him for that: he misses him too. ] Yeah, he'd probably be fine. He doesn't get out much anyway.

[ this has been the biggest adventure of his life so far. ]

You've been together with April for a while now, haven't you?

[Will's attention immediately snaps to the ring on his finger. He extends all of them, wiggles for a second, and goes back to loosely clutching the can before he glances up just in time for a cloud to cover the sun.]

Almost a year now. [Unofficially speaking. Will had been scared senseless from making anything official at the time, for over two months. It's the more important topic at hand; distracting talk of his wife by getting into something John probably already knows just fine, what houseboats are like (whether he's been on one or not), might seem...cruel.] I'm planning something for it. She's...not yet aware.

[An eyebrow lifts. Maybe she is. Maybe she's pretending she doesn't know the date's meaning. Maybe she's just playing it cool while he secretly checks for tickets to weird art shows and galleries and does quiet groundwork. Maybe they'll end up throwing it all off and ignoring plans.]

Do you know anyone else like us? Married, the people they're married to here?

[He's not asking about Mary, specifically. Should be fine enough, he hopes. If not, he adds, quickly:]

If we're a club of two, feels like I've lucked out.

[A quick smile in John's direction at the confession, head tipped slightly. Enough that Will has to look up just a smidge. Quiet praise delivered with a smile, with the barest hint of admiration. Whether it's all honest or an attempt to placate any mixed feelings regarding his wife...well, what does it matter unless John takes it as a manipulative move and calls him out on it? It doesn't, that's how.]

[ tilting his chin back up to look around the neighbourhood with faint interest, john listens to him with a ghost of a smile plays on his lips and a small chuckle. regardless of the effort they make to surprise them, women are always keenly aware of what their other half is planning for them. mary knew of his intention on proposing to her at the land mark hotel on the evening sherlock returned and fluffed everything up. does john share that piece of information with will? of course not. it's a learning curve every husband must experience for themselves. ]

I don't know. Rick was married, but I don't think his wife ever came here. They were, uh, estranged and from the sound of it, it wasn't very pleasant. They had two little girls caught up in it too. Twins. [ john casts his gaze back down and he pushes a small, dissatisfied huff through his nostrils as the cloud above passes and the neighbourhood is bathed in sunlight again. ] He was ported out ages ago anyway. Even if there were other people like us here, they'd have probably would have gone home by now as well.

[ a note of bitterness accompanies that statement which john saturates with another sip of beer. does john feel like he's lucked out? certainly not. it seems like everyone he has been remotely close to him has been leaving recently while he remains, his isolation growing by the day. nose wiggling with a hardened sniff, he looks back over at will. ]

I never would've put the two of you together. I'm glad it's working out.

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