drpsychosomatic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
drpsychosomatic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-08-16 12:59 am
drpsychosomatic) wrote in thecapitol2013-08-16 12:59 am
(no subject)
Who| John Watson and open
What| Venturing out after waking up in the Capitol
Where| Tribute Tower, possibly other locations later
When| Before date auction
It hadn't been a particularly glorious or sensational death, and John was almost glad of it. He woke in the Capitol as if from a particularly vivid nightmare, but his leg would no longer reliably support his weight no matter how hard he sat in his room and hated himself for being unable to just think through the psychosomatic injury. He'd had to accept the arm of an avox to get himself safely there, and he hadn't left since.
He'd have to get a cane, again. Sherlock would hate it.
Speaking of Sherlock- he hadn't avoided him exactly, but he hadn't sought him out either. Hours seemed to slip past like breathing until the idiotic futility of it all was too much and he knew that he'd never, ever get out of his room unless he forced himself to, right now. Right this instant.
Asking for a stick was one of the hardest, most humiliating things he'd ever had to do in his life. Once he had it, he heaved himself upright, took a deep, steadying breath, set his jaw- and stepped out.
What| Venturing out after waking up in the Capitol
Where| Tribute Tower, possibly other locations later
When| Before date auction
It hadn't been a particularly glorious or sensational death, and John was almost glad of it. He woke in the Capitol as if from a particularly vivid nightmare, but his leg would no longer reliably support his weight no matter how hard he sat in his room and hated himself for being unable to just think through the psychosomatic injury. He'd had to accept the arm of an avox to get himself safely there, and he hadn't left since.
He'd have to get a cane, again. Sherlock would hate it.
Speaking of Sherlock- he hadn't avoided him exactly, but he hadn't sought him out either. Hours seemed to slip past like breathing until the idiotic futility of it all was too much and he knew that he'd never, ever get out of his room unless he forced himself to, right now. Right this instant.
Asking for a stick was one of the hardest, most humiliating things he'd ever had to do in his life. Once he had it, he heaved himself upright, took a deep, steadying breath, set his jaw- and stepped out.
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