searchingfordistraction | consequences of haste

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consequences of haste

He'd intended to refrain from using anything other than telekinesis until he'd got at least the bones of the new system in place, but.

But conversation with the Bar confirmed that Milliways's built-in safeguards would step in to regulate his magic use in lieu of his magic being able to regulate itself. It would, after all, require a remarkable series of stacked coincidences for Milliways to sustain any kind of damage; nothing Jim could do now would be anywhere near enough to set off that kind of cascade.

He still takes the precaution of having a room with extra buffers set up, just in case.

There is, of course, nothing Milliways can do to prevent Jim from injuring himself as he practices, and he finds very quickly that without his own system to guide his focus, his control over anything non-telekinetic is exceedingly poor.

It was worth experimenting with, anyway. And at least the infirmary is handy.

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John is still less than impressed with where he thinks this is going.

"Please. Enlighten me," John says.

He really doesn't like where this is going.

"You both think of me as a cartoon villain," he says. "Committing atrocities for their own sake with no thought to the consequences, bound by someone else's silly script.

"And frankly, neither of you thinks much more highly of Sherlock, either."

Yep, this is definitely a wind-up, and John is not going to rise to it.

"Say what you want about me, but leave him out of this for now."

OK, maybe he is.

"That will make this a little more challenging," he says blandly, "but all right.

"Tell me, what do you expect from all this?"

"I'd like for you to leave us the hell alone," John says. "These are not the droids you're after, and all that. I expect you're going to keep being a pain in the arse, though."

Well. Is he wrong?

A brief half-smile flickers across his face.

"Did you know" - by which he means has Sherlock bothered to mention? - "there's at least one universe in which Richard Brook is real? Hopeless implausibilities and all."

No, he didn't. But John is hardly surprised to hear this.

"Is he really?"

John finishes getting everything settled and throws his gloves in the bin.

"You're free to go, by the way. Just have someone check that in a few days."

He doesn't expect Jim to actually leave, somehow.

"I'll be surprised if he survives without intervention," Jim says idly. He doesn't move.

"I could be wrong, I suppose, it is theoretically possible" - though clearly not a theory he thinks much of - "but from the sound of things, his Holmes is going insane. If he hasn't got there already."

"What are you getting at?" John asks stiffly.

He pretends to be busy with the paperwork from Jim's visit. He hasn't actually written anything down, though.

"There are two people Sherlock Holmes needs," Jim says. "If he - or she - can't find them, he makes them. One of them is John Watson, of course, stalwart and true, et cetera, et cetera. Those seem to be in plentiful supply. If they're not, substitutes can be arranged easily enough."

(He was wrong, he knows now, to have thought of Tony Stark as being analogous to Mycroft when he is so clearly a Watsonian figure in those Sherlocks' lives.)

"James Moriarty, on the other hand, seems a bit harder to come by, but no less important. A Holmes without a Moriarty . . . you might as well have a mirror without a reflection."

"We have one," John points out. "He wrote terrible fan fiction and last I heard, let his boyfriend smack him around."

This is what Sherlock says, anyway. Whether or not it's true is anyone's guess.

"So you're, what? Trying to take over for him?"

"I'm not trying, no. Sherlock is."

And who can blame him? The Moriarty he's stuck with is even worse than the Professor.

"He needs a real Moriarty. He's unbalanced without one. And, unlike poor Rich's Holmes, he's been lucky enough to find one. He isn't about to let the opportunity pass him by."

"You have your own Sherlock," John says. "You'll like him. He's also an arrogant dick."

"I do," he agrees. "But this isn't about what I need."

(On the very short list of things Jim doesn't think about: Moriarty without his Holmes.)

"Though it is about what I want. What I want for your Sherlock and what I want for mine are two very different things. I want yours to stay intact. He's no good to me if he breaks too soon. But that's not entirely within my control." He emphasizes my ever so slightly, as a reminder of what he said just a moment ago.

There are two people Sherlock Holmes needs.

"And I'm supposed to believe that you've suddenly developed a streak of altruism?" asks John. "What do you care about Sherlock in the first place? We were doing just fine before you showed up."

He's not going to give Jim the satisfaction of mentioning the whole rehab after being clean for five years thing. Jim doesn't need that satisfaction right now. Or ever.

"He's interesting."

Jim grins at John.

"I actually underestimated him. It's been a very long time since anyone has managed to get me to do that."

Someone else might find that embarrassing. Jim thinks it's exciting.

"I'm not being altruistic. I'm completely selfish. It just happens to have the same result as altruism would this time around. If furthering your understanding of why he's doing what he's doing will help, and I think it will if you'll let it sink in, then that's what I'll do."

"He is a genius," John says. "Not like some TV genius where someone writes something they think is clever. But he's shit with people. Even worse than yours is, and I'm sure you must have noticed that by now."

John is, of course, breaking the rules Sherlock set at the beginning of their relationship, but it seems like one of those exception moments.

"Of course," he says readily.

If Sherlock were any good with people, this conversation wouldn't be necessary, because he would have had it with John himself by now.

"Then surely you don't need me to point out what that means."

It does occur to him that this is exactly why Jim has decided to make Sherlock his latest project.

"Why do you think we're having this little chat?" he asks. "One of us has to keep you in the loop. It's not going to be him. If I have to play minder to get my way, that's fine. It's worth the trouble."

For now.

John sighs. He's not sure that what he's about to do is the wisest thing, but maybe it'll help.

"And you really think the best use of your time is dicking around with someone who has an autism disorder?" he asks. He's probably letting his anger show, but fuck it. He is pretty fucking hacked off.

Jim gives him a blank look.

"Does it affect his intelligence?"

He continues without waiting for an answer, because he knows the answer.

"Then I don't care. It's just another detail." A facet of Sherlock to be kept in mind and dealt with when it makes itself relevant, but not dwelt upon unnecessarily.

"Yeah, that's... That's... OK. Moffat got you completely wrong," John says. "You're not a psychopath at all. You're a fucking sadist."

Jim raises his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, should I be treating him like a hopeless cripple?"

John has by now definitely let Jim get to him, and is practically seething.

"I think you should be going home."

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