The Morning After (RP for asthenoseonyourface)

[coatandscarf]

You should have some coffee. -JR

...John? How did you...? Nevermind. When you took my phone. Of course. I already had coffee. RH

One cup? Stingy. -JR

All I need is one, Holmes. RH

I like caffeine. -JR

When are you moving into the office? -JR

Well, I'm packing the things I need now, John, but someone keeps interrupting me. RH

Oh. Who? -JR

Go look in a mirror. Or at Jacob. It's close enough. RH

...Why? -JR

Because it's you who keeps interrupting! RH

Well I'm BORED. -JR

You're welcome to help me pack. RH

Really? Why? -JR

Because you're bored. RH

So? -JR

Just giving you something to do. You're welcome to say no. RH

I'm not saying no. -JR

But why are you helping me? -JR

There a reason I shouldn't? RH *attached is her address*

Comments

[asthenoseonyourface]

John snorted as he picked up another small stack of books, carefully sorting them into their respective boxes. "Oh, I feel, I just don't care."

The words left him casually, even a little cold, like talking about the weather or an errand that needed running.

"That's the thing with sociopaths, we have feelings, we just don't...know how to use them, I suppose." he sighed. "I can feel all sorts of things, very intensely, even. I just don't care about really anything you do. Who I hurt, what I have to do to get what I want, how to behave in public." He paused, and a shadow crossed through his empty gaze, his movements hesitating the briefest moment.

"Those two years were good, though." he admitted as clinically as he could manage. "Jock and Janie, they had real lives. They didn't have to worry about me, they could take me out in public...it was better for them. I do regret that: being a burden."

[coatandscarf]

Randy listened carefully. She listened to his tone, she looked at his mannerisms, making a multitude of mental notes about the man and how he considered himself.

She noticed the hesitation immediately.

He admitted he regretted being a burden to his siblings. That worrying them was a concern. She could see why they would be preoccupied with him. Anyone that didn't know about his conditions could easily be overwhelmed by the man. "Have you ever found something that might let you recapture those years?" The question came out before she even thought about it, and she regretted it almost the moment they left her lips. What business was it of hers? Why should she care, when he himself did not?

But that was it, wasn't it? Because somewhere in there, he *did* care. He cared enough about something, and that something was important to him.

[asthenoseonyourface]

He nodded just a little, finishing with the books and moving on to a small stack of file folders. He opened one, closed it, then promptly set it in the correct box.

"One thing. Why do you think my brother and sister opened a detective agency, Doctor Adler?" He glanced up at her with his small, hollow smile. "I'm an antisocial mad genius with a drug habit...how else do you keep a white hat on a man like that?"

[coatandscarf]

Adler. He'd gone back to Adler. Yet with a formal title accompanying it. "So your work is your distraction. It's what permits you to... feel again?" She didn't dare say 'live', because it was clear that this *was* his life, unemotional or not. And who was she to say that such a life was not really living?

She looked him over carefully, thinking about the sort of drugs a man like him would take. Immediately, she stiffened. "John, I need to be clear with something. If you *ever* take my prescription pad, for *any* reason at all but especially for yourself, I will *never* speak to you again. Are we clear?"

[asthenoseonyourface]

John's head shot up sharply, and in a strange display, the entire moment played out across his face in seconds.

Startled. Shocked at the assumption...nay, accusation.

Thought. It was convenient, he hadn't considered that. Why hadn't he considered that?...

Fear. Boredom, the threat of before, Before, the only one of his kind and surrounded by morons (his siblings didn't count)...

Decision...and with decision, scorn as he scoffed at her.

"Seriously?" he huffed, going back to poking through her things.

[coatandscarf]

It was like he was a book. He was so caught off guard, that it was like he forgot to put the mask into place. It was fascinating to see, she had to admit.

The thought of taking her pad hadn't crossed his mind yet, much to Randy's surprise. Then he considered that it had been obvious, an easy fix. For a moment, he looked scared, then...

He scoffed.

"Yes, *seriously*." Her hand shot out and she gripped his arm, tugging at it a bit to make him look at her, then instantly releasing it as she realized what she'd done. "John, besides the fact that it's illegal as hell, it undermines me. And it tells me that you have no respect for me. I will not stand for it. I need to hear it from you, right now, that you will not do that. That you will not disrespect me in that way."

[asthenoseonyourface]

He caught it, the reaction and the realization. She wasn't being polite, she was being afraid. Of him.

Usually, it was a pretty safe bet. Fear of him, maybe even revulsion. But that wasn't in her eyes, she didn't have that wall up...or if she did, he couldn't see it behind the trauma. She was open, connected, not separate or other.

He laughed then, and it wasn't the most pleasant sound. Very deliberately, he caught her hand before she could pull it totally away. He held her gaze deliberately, and while he didn't take advantage of her fear, he didn't try to put her at ease, either.

"Don't worry, I've been sober fourteen months now...but I don't respect anyone. I'm not capable of it." he reiterated slowly, quietly...and again, very deliberately, placed her hand back on his arm, holding it there with a press of his hand, surprisingly warm in temperature for all his coldness.

"I'm not one of the good guys, Miss Alder. I'm not nice, I'm not reliable, and I will let you down if you put me on a pedestal." He leaned in a little, his movements still slow, deliberate as he got right down in her face. His grip was firm, strong, but not crushing as he held her hand against his arm.

"The only reason I'm not a wanted felon is because I have babysitters. They keep me busy, and so I stay out of trouble, otherwise the Boston PD would have their hands very full with the likes of me. I'm dangerous, Randy, well and truly dangerous. Be afraid of me for that. Not because I'm a man."

[coatandscarf]

As he caught her hand, she froze, and for a moment, she wasn't there. The firm grip took her somewhere else, to another time. It felt like another world. His voice drew her back to the present, a lifeline back to reality. Her eyes shot up to him, the slight tremble in her fingers fading as he pressed her hand against his arm, holding her in place.

Her eyes came up to his as he declared that he wasn't one of the good guys. As he drew close, it took every bit of her disciple not to back away, nor to burst into tears at the sight. She hadn't had a man this close to her since... since...

She couldn't bring herself to keep her eyes open then, to *see* how close he was. To know how tightly he held onto her and how little she could do about it. God help her, she had invited him in, and he could take full advantage of it.

Randy was terrified. And it was taking all of her self-control not to panic just then. Yet beyond the tension in her body, and the fact that her eyes were closed, it would've been hard to guess. "...I'm not scared of your sociopathy. I'm not scared of *you*. I'm scared because you *are* a man, and you not knowing that makes you far more terrifying than anything else you say you're capable of."

[asthenoseonyourface]

There was...something there as he stared into her face, as he refused to let her go. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was warm and fluttery and sick-making it scared him. He was scaring her, he shouldn't...feel like that.

Still, he pressed on.

"I know what scares you, and I know what I'm doing." he pressed flatly, his voice even and quiet, still holding her hand to his arm where she'd originally grabbed him. "Don't be boring, be ready...you're a soldier, Adler, act like one."

[coatandscarf]

Her eyes snapped open at him, her anger at being toyed with coming through. "Shove it, *Sherlock*. I might've been a soldier, but I'm a doctor first. And before all that, I'm a human being." She pulled then, releasing her hand from his grip, only to bring it back to smack him on the arm. "I am not a puppet for you to conduct, John Riley. Don't *ever* treat me like that again." Yet she didn't move away, she stood her ground and glared at him.