[ACTION] sprawls out and gets comfortable in this post, IT'S BEEN SO LONNNNGatrumcanisDecember 20 2011, 14:37:52 UTC
[It's been long enough that Jack's been let out of the hospital, but Sirius still feels as if they're in there--only sometimes, only vaguely, a prickling at the back of his neck. It's not the hospital that he's feeling but more the way he felt while inside of it, the terrible skin-crawling depression of the place. Every time he starts to feel that, he does something distracting, he does something stupid.
There are times, even, when he's awake before Jack. It's not awake in the sense that he never went to sleep, either, not the way it used to be. He wakes up in the dead of night, just to be sure that Jack is all right, and then he isn't able to fall back asleep again. He just lays staring up at the dark ceiling.
This morning is different. This morning, he joins Jack wherever he is in the firehouse, Yorick bundled in his arms. The dog is clearly unhappy, and clearly wary about being carried, but Sirius is ignoring him.]
Oi. Jack. Look.
[And the reason for Yorick's uncomfortable expression becomes obvious nearly immediately. He's
( ... )
backdated to the 19thcruelwonderDecember 21 2011, 03:53:12 UTC
[Alice is up with her book, watching the television when the midnight channel comes on. And look, it's her doctor...and he's doing things to women and he's laughing and--
It's normal. Yes, it's audacious but she's seen worse. Still, from someone she trusted... She throws a pillow at the TV and shuts it off immediately afterward, pale as she gets up and goes to find Jack.]
[He's dozing, a book in his hand. He wakes up when Alice comes in, though, and blearily smiles at her-- but that vanishes when he catches sight of her expression. Scrambling to his feet, he meets her.]
[He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and grips her arms tightly.]
It's okay. It's okay-- come on, he ain't near. It was that shit shadow thin', it ain't real. He didn't do none o' that. Ain't none o' them women are real.
[In the corner of the firehouse, a robotic dog is industriously eating the inside of a feather pillow. He's covered in a layer of brown false fur that's been well-worn, almost like a carpet, and every so often some sparks shoot out from the base of his tail.]
[Sirius comes around the corner, with a sandwich in his mouth. His hands are of course occupied with the cups that he's holding--one cup of tea and one of whiskey.]
Mmm?
[The dog, meanwhile, wheels around--slightly stiff-legged--to consider Jack, cocking its head with a distinctly robotic sound.]
Comments 2707
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M'ello?
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[Yawn.]
Wassup?
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What about you?
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so
a week
you okay?
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There are times, even, when he's awake before Jack. It's not awake in the sense that he never went to sleep, either, not the way it used to be. He wakes up in the dead of night, just to be sure that Jack is all right, and then he isn't able to fall back asleep again. He just lays staring up at the dark ceiling.
This morning is different. This morning, he joins Jack wherever he is in the firehouse, Yorick bundled in his arms. The dog is clearly unhappy, and clearly wary about being carried, but Sirius is ignoring him.]
Oi. Jack. Look.
[And the reason for Yorick's uncomfortable expression becomes obvious nearly immediately. He's ( ... )
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What did you do to our son?
[Yorick whines beseechingly at Jack, but he doesn't move.]
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Why, nothing at all. He's all ready, why aren't you!
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[He reaches forward, scratching Yorick's ears, laughing quietly as the dog wriggles impatiently.]
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It's normal. Yes, it's audacious but she's seen worse. Still, from someone she trusted... She throws a pillow at the TV and shuts it off immediately afterward, pale as she gets up and goes to find Jack.]
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What happened?
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Doctor Seward... On the television, he's-- He was touching these women and...and it was just like Bumby. He was smiling and I--
[Stupid, stupid. She shouldn't be so upset. She's trembling, partly with fear, mostly with anger.]
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It's okay. It's okay-- come on, he ain't near. It was that shit shadow thin', it ain't real. He didn't do none o' that. Ain't none o' them women are real.
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Oh, darlin'?
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Mmm?
[The dog, meanwhile, wheels around--slightly stiff-legged--to consider Jack, cocking its head with a distinctly robotic sound.]
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[He grins, though, and kneels, offering his hand to the dog.]
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