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[ ACTIVE / SEMI-OPEN ]
Who: John Sheppard & various (& maybe you!)
What: Various Stages On The Grief Arc: An illustration of John Sheppard being a disaster
When: Mid to Late November & Early December maybe
Where: Olympia & Dranbu
Warning(s): Some arm injury gore in one thread!
1. OLYMPIA -- Mid November
John is pretty sure he looks a mess to anyone who knows him, but that's precisely why he's avoiding most people who know him.
He's called out of work to give himself a recovery buffer and is taking a walk with Seren, who is completely oblivious to his problems. Seren is still a puppy, and her excitement for everything in their surroundings and for him to play with her is a good distraction -- even if he wishes she understand the word 'chill' on occasion.
The little German Shepherd is starting to grow up quickly, though. She's smart, smart enough John suspects to know exactly when she's just ignoring John's instructions. Old enough to know better, young enough not to care. Off the leash, she's skipping ahead of him with her nose to the ground -- sniffing for traces of other dogs who might have come this way. At this time of day there aren't too many, mostly people, and although she mostly just runs up and down finding things then bringing them to John (or John to them) occasionally she gets curious and bounces toward another human. Either because they smell interesting or have something with them that smells interesting.
Seren shoots toward the new person and bounces curiously while John jogs to catch up, jacket loose and unzipped over his plaid shirt and jeans.
"Hey!" he prompts sharply, and the puppy stops and looks over at him. "We talked about this, manners!"
Apparently bouncing at people is not a good display of puppy manners.
2. DRANBU -- Late November/Early December (specify before or after people change back!)
After having pretty much been holed up in Olympia drowning his sorrows for most of the month, once he finally makes it out to Josa Forest (initially to help Ianto, but then staying to sate his curiosity about what's going on) John realises he does... feel better. He probably should have come out sooner to give himself something to do, instead of just skulking around avoiding everything, but hindsight is 20/20 and all that. At the time he hadn't felt like he wanted to do anything.
Once he's there, though, actually exploring Josa Forest again after his initial trip out with Phoenix helps take his mind off things. The tree villages are interesting, and John picks through them as much to satisfy his own curiosity as to give him a reason to be --
To be away from things that he's absolutely not avoiding but also, is avoiding.
The markets of Dranbu, he notices, are very animal-focused. So after a long moment picking through things he catches the attention of someone and hesitantly asked:
"Do you have anything for dogs...?"
They point him further a long and John lofts an eyebrow curiously, turning and padding in the direction he's been pointed -- bumping into someone near a different stand along the way and setting his good hand on them apologetically to steady them. The marketplace is busy and also, not designed with space in mind. He supposes that's what comes of not normally having this many visitors.
"Sorry," he says with a wince, and bends to try and pick up whatever it is he made them drop. "Here, let me --"
What: Various Stages On The Grief Arc: An illustration of John Sheppard being a disaster
When: Mid to Late November & Early December maybe
Where: Olympia & Dranbu
Warning(s): Some arm injury gore in one thread!
1. OLYMPIA -- Mid November
John is pretty sure he looks a mess to anyone who knows him, but that's precisely why he's avoiding most people who know him.
He's called out of work to give himself a recovery buffer and is taking a walk with Seren, who is completely oblivious to his problems. Seren is still a puppy, and her excitement for everything in their surroundings and for him to play with her is a good distraction -- even if he wishes she understand the word 'chill' on occasion.
The little German Shepherd is starting to grow up quickly, though. She's smart, smart enough John suspects to know exactly when she's just ignoring John's instructions. Old enough to know better, young enough not to care. Off the leash, she's skipping ahead of him with her nose to the ground -- sniffing for traces of other dogs who might have come this way. At this time of day there aren't too many, mostly people, and although she mostly just runs up and down finding things then bringing them to John (or John to them) occasionally she gets curious and bounces toward another human. Either because they smell interesting or have something with them that smells interesting.
Seren shoots toward the new person and bounces curiously while John jogs to catch up, jacket loose and unzipped over his plaid shirt and jeans.
"Hey!" he prompts sharply, and the puppy stops and looks over at him. "We talked about this, manners!"
Apparently bouncing at people is not a good display of puppy manners.
2. DRANBU -- Late November/Early December (specify before or after people change back!)
After having pretty much been holed up in Olympia drowning his sorrows for most of the month, once he finally makes it out to Josa Forest (initially to help Ianto, but then staying to sate his curiosity about what's going on) John realises he does... feel better. He probably should have come out sooner to give himself something to do, instead of just skulking around avoiding everything, but hindsight is 20/20 and all that. At the time he hadn't felt like he wanted to do anything.
Once he's there, though, actually exploring Josa Forest again after his initial trip out with Phoenix helps take his mind off things. The tree villages are interesting, and John picks through them as much to satisfy his own curiosity as to give him a reason to be --
To be away from things that he's absolutely not avoiding but also, is avoiding.
The markets of Dranbu, he notices, are very animal-focused. So after a long moment picking through things he catches the attention of someone and hesitantly asked:
"Do you have anything for dogs...?"
They point him further a long and John lofts an eyebrow curiously, turning and padding in the direction he's been pointed -- bumping into someone near a different stand along the way and setting his good hand on them apologetically to steady them. The marketplace is busy and also, not designed with space in mind. He supposes that's what comes of not normally having this many visitors.
"Sorry," he says with a wince, and bends to try and pick up whatever it is he made them drop. "Here, let me --"
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But he's not --
"I'm not lying," he protests groggily, "and I'd have stayed either way if you wanted."
He would. John goes to roll onto his side then catches himself with his good arm -- realising just too late that his other is in no state to do that. He fumbles to shove himself up awkwardly, trying to sit up so he can watch Ianto's reactions. So he can try to better judge the conversation and maybe, if he's lucky, not make this all worse again.
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“Of course I want you here with me,” Ianto replies to his folded hands in his lap. His expression furrowing slightly as he continues on to say, “I just don’t know if you want to be here yourself. Not with me anyway. You came here now because of me. There is a difference between the two scenarios.”
It isn’t as though they had been on the best of terms, when Ianto had left to come exploring here. But they hadn’t been on the worst of them either. It's hard to know where they stand, especially given their exchange in the forest.
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"Can we stop," he says softly, "with the thing where you tell me what I'm thinking and feeling? You know I hate that. I'm telling you I'm not lying. Please, Ianto, just... just listen to me."
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John at least does have a point. He's putting words into his mouth, and he does know how the other man feels about that. But John still hasn't filled in the gaps himself. Hasn't done much talking at all, beyond demanding of Ianto what it is that he wants of this, and left to his own devices? Ianto isn't the most positive of men. Certainly not at a time like this.
"I'm listening," he says softly. Glancing back up at the other man, his blue eyes dark, guarded, and... Sad. He feels a little as though he's still waiting for the blow to come. That moment when John decides he can't forgive him for this after all. The moment when he realizes he isn't worth it, in the end. Hell, he'd left to give the other man some space, and he couldn't even get that right.
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John wets his lips nervously, because now he feels trapped under that gaze.
"What I said before," he begins, "I meant it. I still do. It's only been a few hours, Ianto, I haven't..."
He hasn't changed his mind. John sighs, shifting his weight and hesitantly touching at a patch of his arm that isn't sore and rubbing slowly at the skin.
"I want to be here," he finishes, as if repeating it might making it stick.
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Sweetheart, I'd follow you anywhere you needed me to ... I'd do anything for you ... I don't wanna be without you...
Ianto knows John. He knows he isn't a man for such displays. And he knows he'd meant every word. It isn't as though he'd forgotten, exactly. It's just that he'd distracted himself from it, with this tension that had risen between them again. He knows he hasn't been forgiven just yet. He's not certain he's forgiven himself so soon either, truth be told.
"I can't understand why," he says softly. "You've always been so good to me. And I never seem to be able to get things right for you, in the end."
Even here and now. In his attempts to help, he's done it again. Made another mess, just like he always seems to do.
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"I'm not exactly getting it right every time myself."
If he was, Ianto wouldn't be upset so often. If he was, Ianto would understand what was going on with him. If he was, he probably wouldn't already be divorced once over.
John knows he is as much responsible for the mess as Ianto, he just... he's not good at this. He's not good at talking about things. He doesn't know if he ever will be.
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"All I meant to say," he says quietly, trying again now that he's closer once more, now that he should have the other man's full attention, "is that I've only been trying to help. This whole time. And I know you've let me, but. I know what it feels like to be tolerated, John."
He understands that he's a fussy person. People humor a lot of his eccentricities. But this isn't one of them, as far as he's concerned. Because that's just it. He is concerned. Glancing up, Ianto's bright blue eyes meet the other man's once more.
"I know that -- maybe it's not something that you enjoy. But all I'm trying to do is see that you're taken care of properly. Because I care." He pauses a beat, before adding softly, "I'd switch places with you in a heartbeat, if I could."
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He does. Ianto has always had that air about him, the kind of person who would take away someone's suffering even if it meant suffering himself.
"But, sweetheart, I don't want you to. I don't want you to hurt, because I care. If I'm cranky it's only because my arm hurts and I was worried you were gonna make yourself hurt too."
John turns toward Ianto, then leans just enough to bump the shoulder of his good arm against the other man's.
"Shirt suits you," he adds.
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"I thought it'd be nice to have as company, setting off on my own like this," he answers, quietly. "No substitute for the real company, of course." And he's not sure he quite fits into the thing, truth be told, though he fits enough to be able to wear it. A bit tight through the shoulders, and he's careful not to try and button it closed for fear he might tear a seam.
He's quiet for another long moment as he sits together with the other man before he takes in a long breath and lets it out slowly. "Someday you're going to need to let me take the hit for you, you know," he says. "I've stood back and watched you defend me enough times. It has to come around sooner or later."
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Needs him, still.
John thinks: I once flew a jumper with stitches after a building fell on me, I'd need to be dead before I let you get hurt.
He says:
"I'm just better at taking them. Every team has a tank, you know."
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"Just because you can take a hit, it doesn't make it any easier to watch, John," he says. Swallowing thickly before continuing, "It doesn't make it any easier to see you hurting. I appreciate that you protect me. I know that I need it, in some instances like today," he adds, a touch bitterly. "I'd never want you to be injured in doing so, and if I could spare you from it, I would."
He frowns softly, "I never do have much of a choice, though, do I?" He shakes his head slightly, not wanting to cause another disagreement, before continuing on. "I just need you to trust my choice in this," he says, tightening his arm around the other man's waist. "You don't need to protect me from this, John. And you certainly don't need to protect me from you."
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John thinks: I'm much better at hurting people than I am at helping them some days.
And he thinks: But right now, I'm not protecting you. I'm protecting myself.
He keeps his eyes dropped to Ianto's knees, trying to work out what he wants to say. Or how he should even say it.
"I think," he says finally, "we should both get some sleep. My arm is still sore and everything's a little fuzzy. You know I'm not great at this stuff on a good day."
Let alone when his arm has recently been gnawed and he's exhausted. John sighs tiredly, sways himself to bump against Ianto again.
"Please," he adds, because he doesn't want to have this conversation like this. He's not in the best state for it, and he doesn't think Ianto really is either.
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He glances over at the separate bed and feels immeasurably sad for the thought of having to separate himself to move to it again. But asking to stay makes him feel like a child, and short of John offering himself -- he supposes that that's his cue.
"Yeah, alright," he says softly. Lingering reluctantly where he sits. "I suppose I should..."
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"Better for my arm," he points out softly, "means you won't bump into it, and I won't bump it into you."
It will be strictly John's fault if he rolls onto it, not anyone else. The last thing John needs is to damage it further at this point, when it's already sore enough to begin with.
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"Yeah, alright," he repeats. He tightens his hand against the back of John's tshirt, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly before he nods and forces himself to stand. Uncertain how it is possible he could feel so tired and defeated -- and why? He had believed the other man's words in the forest. John had said he would do anything for him and he believes it. He'd do much the same for the other man in return. But the question is if he would let him. So far it's been an uphill battle.
"There's more of that medicine if you need it," he murmurs, crossing back over to his empty bed and shrugging out of his overshirt, hanging it over the end of the bed. Haphazardly shucking his jeans before crawling under the covers and pulling them up high over his head. Wondering if he'll be able to himself, with how his mind is spinning. Feeling rather like a spider trapped in its own web. All of this with John, everything with Jack, this journey to Dranbu, all of it a mess, and himself at the center, causing it all.
"Try to get some sleep then," he murmurs, rolling himself over and trying not to listen too hard to the sounds of the other man across the room.