You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You and the stranger both like Mormor.
You: (Unsent) I just found your dog tags in the pocket of the suit I wore on that roof. I had forgotten about them. -JM
Stranger: You know, I’m getting bored without somebody yelling at me all the time. Or throwing things. Or stabbing me. SM
Stranger: It’s funny. Somehow, I’m still getting through to your number. Didn’t think it was possible. SM
You: (Unsent) Oh, you do? I always thought I was annoying you, or that you didn’t like being stabbed. -JM
(Unsent) It’s /my/ number, after all. -JM
Stranger: They never did let me see your body. It’s a shame. SM
You: (Unsent) I’m still using it in this very moment. -JM
Stranger: Last I remember, your face was down, like you were going to your execution. I suppose it makes sense now. SM
Stranger: You know, if there’s somebody on the other end, getting these, it’d be nice if you could just.. pretend. Just pretend to be my Jim, just this once. SM
Stranger: Just… an asshole comment. Call me pathetic, or something. It’s not that hard. SM
You: (Unsent) I don’t think that it would be good for your sanity, Bastian. Let’s keep it like that, ok? You have to get over it. -JM
Stranger: Please? SM
Stranger: Nobody would get his phone. I’m talking to air. Who am I kidding? SM
You: (Unsent) Remember who you are. -JM
Stranger: Jim, you’re the most.. terrible, selfish bastard I’ve ever known. SM
You: (Unsent) Nothing new there. -JM
Stranger: I hate you. I hate you so much. SM
Stranger: I tried and I tried, but I never could be good enough, could I? SM
Stranger: It’s going to burn. Just for you. I O U. I’m going to burn this flat down, you know that? Burn it all. SM
You: (Unsent) Seb. Shut it. Stop being ridiculous. -JM
Stranger: I’ve got the gasoline. I’ve been considering it for a long time. I just splashed it down a couple of minutes ago. SM
Stranger: All we need now..? One spark. SM
You: (Unsent) Really, now? Where do you plan on living? -JM
Stranger: I’ve always wondered what it would be like to burn alive. SM
You: [After a few minutes of considering]
Stranger: Sorry, am I disturbing you? SM
Stranger: About time you fucking responded. SM
Stranger: You’re supposed to sign ‘JM’ or ‘RB’ after your words, by the way. SM
Stranger: …Not that it matters, really. SM
You: I will just leave it like that, since it seems like I’m only filling in for someone else.
You: And it seems like you are planning to do something rather stupid.
Stranger: Good bye, Anon. I’ve had fun. Thank you, for ignoring all my pathetic whines. This number isn’t going to bother you anymore. Look up. Maybe you’ll see the smoke. SM
You: You are really going to burn yourself? Why?
Stranger: Because I’m tired of seeing Jim in every mirror, every shadow, every nightmare. I’m tired of hearing his voice, and I’m tired of not hearing it. Holmes is alive, and I can’t be bothered to do a thing about it. SM
You: And you really don’t think that you can manage to get over him? I mean, you don’t seem to be too old, there’s so much you could be doing instead.
Stranger: You don’t understand. When he comes into your life, he rids you of everything else that matters. I’ve got no family left, no chance at work. He made sure of that. I protected him. Cooked for him. Stitched him up. I brought home his groceries, I read to him while he slept to keep the nightmares away. Anything I did, it was for him. And then… without warning, he shot himself. When you lose your soul, there’s no more reason to live. SM
You: And now you can’t change that, because..? That’s the main point, you /did/. Now, you should go out and find something else to fill yourself with, or focus on yourself. Protect yourself, cook for yourself, stich yourself up, buy your own groceries.
Stranger: It’s been pleasant, but I think this is the end of our conversation. Maybe you’ll see the smoke. Maybe not. It’s not my problem if you do or don’t. SM
Sebastian lit the match, and he dropped it. Soon, the pristine white carpet shot into flames, and the burning had begun. He’d locked up those pretty, tall gates around the property.. locked them up tight. He lay back on the couch, and closed his eyes. He waited. “I will burn /you/, Jim…’ He murmured, lighting a fag. “Watch.”
You: Sebastian Moran. Stop being ridiculous, now! -JM
Stranger: Sebastian checked his phone, and looked at the text. He smirked, and texted the stranger back.
Cute. Using my name, and Jim’s. Look at how pretty things look, on fire. SM [Photo attachment]
You: Yes, I am using your name, and my own one. Get out of the damn building you damn idiot. -JM
Stranger: Nah. It’s too cold outside, for my liking. SM
You: Grab a jacket, then. I am not joking, this is an order. I have no use for a dead sniper. -JM
Stranger: And I don’t take orders from a dead boss, Boss. SM
You: Obviously, I am not dead. But you will be rather soon, if you continue like that. -JM
Stranger: Do you honestly think I’m going to take you to be Jim because you say you’re him? SM
You: Fine, you don’t believe me. Ask something, anything, Tiger. -JM
Stranger: The last time I saw Jim. What did I ask him? SM
You: You asked if I wanted to have red or white wine for dinner. Now get out. -JM
Stranger: ….Why did you do it, Jim? SM
You: I’ll explain it as soon as you got out of that damn flat. -JM
Stranger: ..I’m sorry. That’s one order I’m not going to be able to take. I loved you. More than anything. SM
Stranger: The difference between you and I.. is you can always replace me. SM
You: Sebastian! Get out! I swear that I will find you in hell and bring you back only to skin you if you don’t stop being a moron! -JM
You: Does it seem like I am eager to replace you right now? No. So just do as you are told. -JM
Stranger: Where are you? SM
You: Does my answer influence your behaviour? -JM
Stranger: It might. SM
You: Get out first, then. -JM
Stranger: Why? SM
You: Because you are going to inhale too much smoke otherwise. -JM
Stranger: I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing that my whole live. I actually started burning this room… It’s really quite hot, hard to breathe. That’s alright. I’m not exactly out for your forgiveness. SM
You: That’s a whole lot different. Besides, I always told you to stop smoking but you didn’t listen. And you are not going to burn to death now that I just contacted you again! -JM
Stranger: Don’t make it sound like it’s a big deal or something. I’ve tried contacting you since day two. SM
Stranger: Tell me where you are, and I’ll consider leaving. SM
You: And I was busy being dead so I couldn’t answer. I’m not in the country and there would be any reason to get back if you don’t stop being stupid right now. -JM
You: ((Did my message get through?))
Stranger: Not in the country. So you completely abandoned me. SM
Stranger: I guess you won’t see the smoke. SM
Stranger: (( Which one? ))
You: Do you realise that the whole thing wasn’t about you alone? There were problems with the gouvernment and other, smaller parts of the webs I had to solve. I abandoned my whole life! -JM
Stranger: You didn’t have to. My phone’s getting too hot to handle, it’s probably not going to last much longer. Sorry. SM
Stranger: But no, I realize that it wasn’t about me. It never is. It’s about you. It’s about Sherlock, or Watson, or your empire. It’s never been about me. I quit. SM
You: I had to. And don’t try to argue now because it’s a long story. I swear I am calling an ambulance for you if you don’t get out. -JM
Stranger: They won’t be able to get in. SM
Stranger: Go ahead. The firemen are trying their damnedest. SM
You: Sebastian, what the hell am I supposed to say to get you out there? -JM
Stranger: You’re not capable of what I need. Tell me what the hell you need me for, now, if I leave? You haven’t needed me in years. SM
You: I need you to protected me. Cooked for me. Stitched me up. Buy our groceries, I read to me while I slept to keep the nightmares away. Please, Sebastian. -JM
You: ((Aw, ignore the I before read.))
Stranger: (( Alright, hon.))
….I’ll do my best. SM
You: Good. -JM
Stranger: Sebastian pulled his aching, burning body up from where he was laying down. He threw the end of the cigarette away, and plowed through the flames, batting them out as he went. His whole body hurt; his lungs burned, his everything burned. He couldn’t see; his eyes were teary from the smoke. He couldn’t breathe. The smoke was black and thick… the door was blocked, and he had to get out another way. In the end, Sebastian ended up crawling through a window, a little ways away, and passing out. His body was taken to the hospital, where he was being treated until he woke up.
You: The lack of response was not helping Jim to control his sentiments, and he really hoped that it wasn’t caused by anything… permanent that could have happened. So, he tried to contact the sniper a few times more.
Answer me. -JM
I swear if you’re not missing both of your arms you will answer me now. -JM
Again, no answer, so he was really considering the last option, which, of course, was ridiculous. In the end, he managed to figure out in which hospital Sebastian had ended up, and dialed its number. It was a bit hard to get any personal details, like the blond’s state and injuries, so Jim ended up being the husband who traveled a lot because of his stressful job. It wasn’t that big of a lie.
You: ((Still there?))
Stranger: (( Yeah, sorry . I might be a bit slow for a couple of minutes. ))
You: ((It’s ok, really. It’s just my connection, which isn’t the best. I don’t trust it))
Stranger: (( ohh, okay. Haha. <3 ))
Stranger: Sebastian had quite a bit of burning on several parts of his body. He was sleeping for a fair bit of the time, on drugs for the rest. He didn’t move, and he wasn’t in a critical state, so everything would be fine. He was just waking up now, to an annoying doctor rubbing cream over the burns on his throat. “Hands off.” He said, though his voice was hoarse and painful. Now, of course, he was going to get up. The sniper had lost his phone during the fire, and the flat had effectively burned to the ground. Nothing inside was saved.
Stranger: ((We might need to skip time, if Jim stays out of the country, haha. ))
You: ((Currently solving that problem))
You: Somewhere around day four of calling everyday and asking how the other was, Jim decided to dig out an old alias of his, give it a new surname and check the whole affair himself. So, ‘Peter Moran’ was sitting on a plane from Italy to London Heathrow - it could have been a longer way, considering that the consultant had spent the previous weeks in China - and tapping his feet impatiently. The seat next to him was occupied by a mother with her annoying child, and he had to concentrate on not snapping both of their necks because of them being too annoying to handle. After another two hours of suffering, he was sitting in a cab, on his way to the hospital.
You: ((Could you please give me your url? I’m not sure how long my connection will last))
Stranger: (( cherryred09 haha. ))
Stranger: (( Ohhh.. Brb D: ))
You: ((I’m sherlockismysuicidenote. It would be a pity to lose each other now, really))
Stranger: (( Yeah, haha. Well, my computer has a tendency to… freeze up. ))
You: ((Oh, I know that problem very well))
Stranger: (( <3 ))
Stranger: Sebastian was up and about his room for the time being, when the doctor let him. He walked around for a bit, looked out the window, then he groaned and sat himself back down. He was going out of his mind, not being able to let Jim know that he was alive and well. He didn’t know that Jim had been calling the hospital, though that was probably a good thing. He was going out of his mind… and needed to wait just a little bit longer before being able to be released.
You: It wasn’t until another fifteen minutes of trying to get through the London traffic that Jim- Peter walked through the hospital’s doors and told the lady at the reception who he was, always smiling nicely, even though she kept messing up the data. No, he was not planning on getting himself checked. Yes, he was here to visit someone. No, not his mum. Nor his dad. Room 62a. Thank you, now stop talking. God, how much he loathed people who just won’t stop talking. As soon as the room was found, he knocked once before opening the door and poking his head through the just created opening. “Hey…”
Stranger: Visitors weren’t expected by Sebastian. He was sitting down, glaring out the window when there was a knock on the door, and he turned his head slightly (oh, that hurt, quite bad.. even with the morphine) to take a look at who it might be. Oh. Jim. Sebastian’s eyes focused on the man, and they stayed that way. He stared, long and hard at the dead man that was just poking his head in through the door. Sebastian did not say a word in greeting, and he couldn’t bring himself to smile. What on Earth was James Moriarty doing visiting him, when he was supposed to be out of the country?
You: That didn’t look good, not good at all. Pressing his lips into a thin line Jim kept his face straight and moved fully inside, letting the door fall shut behind him and taking a chair that was standing around next to the sniper’s bed. At least Sebastian was still alive - which had been obvious already but he liked to check his facts himself, instead of relying on other people - but he wasn’t responding, which wasn’t fitting into his plan. “So… How are you?” the criminal asked quietly, scratching the back of his neck and twiddling with the chain running over the skin there.
Stranger: Sebastian continued to watch Jim as he slipped into the room, and came closer. His eyes gave away nothing but a cold resentment that Jim had left him, after all he’d done. He couldn’t possibly grasp what had been going on that /he/ of all people couldn’t see that made Jim leave. Finally, Sebastian turned his head away, focusing his eyes on something outside the window then. “I’m alive.” He said in his rough voice, which hurt. “Drugged up. Alive.” Sebastian swallowed a big ball of emotion that threatened to claw it’s way up his throat. “You’re here.”
You: Upset. Sebastian was upset, of course, and there probably wasn’t much the smaller man could do to help. Only tell his story and hope that the sniper understood. “Yes, I can see that. I mean, besides being alive and breathing and drugged up.” Jim didn’t have a problem with identifying the emotions which were tinting the other’s voice, despite him not being that good with sentiment, and it didn’t feel that good to know that it was him who caused them. “And yes, I am here. All the way from Italy.”
Stranger: “How else am I supposed to fucking be, Jim?” Demanded the blond, the raising of his voice clearly not doing well with the state of his throat. “Fuck. Christ. I can’t believe I let you convince me to get out of that fucking flat.” He leaned into the wall, pressing the side of his head into it as he glared at the window. The anger that was building up inside of him; the abandonment was hard to deal with, now that it turned out that Jim was just perfectly fine. Anger. Resentment. Abandonment. Broken loyalty. Misery. Even a touch of guilt. None of which sat well in the blond’s belly.
You: “I- I don’t know.” Jim answered, unused to the situation of being yelled at and caught off guard by it. “So you would have rather suffocated patheticly and burned in that damned flat? Why? It’s ridiculous.” It really was, wasn’t it? Why would Sebastian Moran, the great English Tiger who never missed a target, commit suicide like that even though there really was no reason? Especially since his boss was alive and well, and had promised to return. It was a mistery to the raven-haired man. Sighing, he let his hand go back to the chain and tried to think of a way to explain the need to leave.
Stranger: “I would rather have died than to come back and deal with you. I would rather die than fall back into that same habit, I would rather die than not be able to trust you for the rest of my life. I can’t deal with you dying again- which is inevitable, frankly- but you can’t possibly understand that, you fucking psychopath.” Sebastian kept his voice low now, not yelling. Still, there was enough hatred in his voice to get the point across. “Who are you, Now? Richard Brook’s dead. Who are you playing, to be so concerned?” Sebastian wasn’t buying that Jim was actually /concerned/ about his well-being. He just wanted him back as a pawn, a plaything.
You: Instead of answering, Jim just started to shake his head. Little movements to begin with which grew gradually bigger, his mouth falling open a mere bit. There was no way to explain himself without sounding /ordinary/ and weak, but there was no way to talk his way around that. “I- mhn. So you don’t trust me. Which is understandable, I suppose, since I didn’t even start to explain this whole… mess. Well. You think that I left because I wanted to, don’t you. That’s not true, really, that’s the opposite of what was really happening. As I told you before, there was a problem with the gouvernment, mainly with the older Holmes, so I had to get the idea of a criminal network out of the people’s head. Just as I had to kill Richard Brook, which I did. Obviously, I’m not him today. Familiar with Peter Jones? He’s named Moran, now.”
Stranger: Sebastian listened to Jim quietly, but his trust towards Jim hadn’t improved in the slightest. He didn’t believe that Jim had to leave without telling /him/ anything, and he understood that the older Holmes was a pain.. but that.. Sebastian’s thoughts stopped in their tracks when he heard the last name of Jim’s new alias. “Moran…?” Questioned Sebastian, and he turned his head over towards Jim, looking at him, watching him. “Why Moran..?” The curiosity was not even partly hidden.
Stranger: (( Sorry for how long that took ;n; ))
You: ((Not a problem either, really. Don’t worry!))
You: Raising his eyebrows, Jim caught the sniper’s gaze, a little bit surprised himself. He had always thought that Sebastian was familiar with any laws that came with people visiting each other in hospitals, since this wasn’t the first time that sitation occured. It had happened before, twice. “First of all, I had to convince the woman at the reception to tell me how bad it is, so I always introduced myself as a family member. And now, the husband thing was the most believable scenario to go by.” Not to mention that the consultant couldn’t stop playing with the chain around his neck, running down his chest and disappearing beneath the grey fabric of his shirt.
Stranger: “Right.” Understanding flickered in Sebastian’s eyes, and then he understood. “Well, alright. Though I suppose you of all people could have found an easier way to show up.. hell, I’m surprised you didn’t have your people have me transferred and held in some underground hospital of yours.” He stopped talking a minute, to let his throat rest. Sebastian looked at Jim, and then groaned. “Fuck this. It should have been go through with the plan, or leave before you get fucking hurt. What did I do? Wait until I was half burned to death.” He said, though it was more of a joke than anything else.
You: A low chuckle emitted from the consultant’s throat. “And you are thinking that kidnapping you and looking for some kind of ‘underground hospital’ would be easier than changing my last name. No, this option involves far less work, really.” The corners of his lips turning upwards just slightly at how ridiculous the idea was. “You shouldn’t have lit the flat on fire.” Jim noted, rubbing the back of his neck and the chain. “That was the literally most stupid idea you have ever had, I swear.” Now, he had to build up the whole flat a second time, get a new computer, new weapons… it was simply inconvenient.
Stranger: “Yeah? Well, frankly, Moriarty, it wasn’t like you were coming back any time soon.” Growled Sebastian, eyes turning on him, hostility suddenly flaring in his eyes. “So what the fuck would I care? You were dead, and you expect me to just come back and take care of you again. It doesn’t work that way, James.” He knew, inside of his heart, that that was exactly how it worked.. but he wasn’t going to let Jim off the hook that easily. At least until he could actually do the work again.
You: “I expected you not to become a complete idiot and get on with your damn life, not light things, including yourself, on fire. How was I supposed to know that that was going to happen, because I didn’t even waste a single thought on such a situation. And why? Because you are Sebastian Moran, and the man I knew was proud.” His gaze became harder, not as cold as it could be whenever a client refused to pay but not nearly as soft as it had been only moments ago. Everytime Jim moved, there was a soft clinking noise he didn’t pay attention to.
Stranger: “Unfortunately for you, Boss, you didn’t know me at all. Still don’t, from the sound of it.” He could hear the change, see the change. Jim was getting annoyed, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. “What’re you going to do, Sir? Are you going to find a syringe and inject air into my veins?” He sneered. “Next time, think about what you do to people before you leave and expect them to move on. We’re not /all/ machines, like you.” He closed his eyes, and decided to relax, despite Jim being there.
You: “Yes, I did my best to prevent you from burning to death only to put an end to my deals in Italy and get here to kill you myself four days later. That is completely logical and I will proceed to do just that. Could you stop being utterly stupid, now?” It wasn’t exactly annoyance that was tinting his voice, it was something closer to actual desperation. Jim was thinking, his brain going too fast and trying to solve this mess. “You still didn’t get it, did you? You still think I left because I wanted to, because it was /fun/.”
Stranger: Alright. Sebastian really had to start thinking, because Jim was going to drive him insane really quickly if he didn’t… mostly because it did sound to be the most stupid thing he could have said at this point. “Okay. I blame the morphine.” He said, though he only heard annoyance. It didn’t register as desperation. “I think that you took the first solution you came up with, and I think that if you’d tried, if you’d cared to try, you could have found another way. You could have found some way to let me know that it wasn’t the end of the world.”
You: “You really don’t understand anything.” Jim muttered, fixing his eyes somewhere on the tip of his shoes. God, he was going to sound so incredibly… not like him. “Don’t you think that I was capable of imagining much better scenarios than leaving for years, only to come back and find you in ruins? But there was no other way to get the gouvernment to believe that I never existed, to kill Richard Brook and Moriarty. The Illusion had to be kept alive long enough for the people to forget. Because, really, it wasn’t the end of the world, not literally. Even though I did care to consider other possibilities. Contrary to popular believes, I am not a machine.”
Stranger: “Sure, Boss.” Sebastian listened, but he didn’t believe it. Not really. “Listen. Sign me out, and we can leave. I’m perfectly fine, if only a little charred in places. Let’s get out of this dump of a hospital.” Muttered the sniper, and he stood up. It hurt to stand, proper, but at the moment it felt a lot better than dealing with this sitting down. He moved to the little cupboard, and picked up his clothes. He looked at them.. and groaned. Burned holes in places… trash, basically. That complicated things for him just a little bit. He kicked the door to the cupboard and cursed.
You: “Uhm. No. You don’t look like you’re capable of even walking to the reception desk. I am going to sign you out as soon as you are ready to be signed out. Perfectly fine does look differently.” Standing up too, Jim walked over to the sniper, gripped the taller man’s shoulders gently and proceeded to shove him back onto the bed. The chain running around his neck and underneath his shirt was glistening slightly, moving with a quiet clinking. “Until then, I’m going to get you some clothes, it’s not like you can wear the few I actually still possess, they’d be a bit small.” The other way round, it would probably work a lot better, but that wasn’t the question.
Stranger: Being shoved on to the bed hurt. He stumbled, and fell back, groaning as pain tore through his entire body. Well, so much for that. Fuck this shit. He hissed and bit into his lip until blood found itself effectively rolling down and dripping off his chin. Sebastian only then noticed the dog tags around Jim’s neck, and he was tempted to comment about them. He didn’t bother, though he didn’t want the wave of emotion it sent tearing through his body. It was foolish… but they were the only things that convinced Sebastian Jim wasn’t a complete monster. “Fine. Do what you want.” He muttered.
You: Well, he had tried to be careful, at least. Returning to his chair, Jim noticed that the other was eyeing him and looked down at himself. Oh, right. The tags. How truely ironic that he had forgotten about them - again. Pressing his lips together in a thin line, he went back to looking at his shoes, clearing his throat and sighing afterwards. “I’m only trying to be somewhat reasonable right now. Going home now, without proper care wouldn’t do any good.” he murmured, oddly quiet considering that he still was James Moriarty and was technically talking to an employee of his.
Stranger: “Whatever.” Sebastian muttered, and he kicked his feet up onto the bed. The burns were awful, but he’d expected far worse. He also expected to be charred by now. But soon enough, he was sure the pain would go away. They already weren’t as bad as they’d been when he’d first arrived. “I don’t know what you expect from me, but if I’m not leaving yet, then I’m going to sleep.” Said the blonde, half of whose head was bandaged from a fall. He reached up a damaged hand and slid it through the hair- oh, he still had hair.. that was mildly surprising- that was annoyed at the bandage and had to grow differently while it was there.
You: “Yes, that will probably be for the best.” So, the consultant got up, considered if there was anything left to do or say - there wasn’t, unfortunally - and turned to Sebastian. “If I see a nurse or doctor, I’ll ask how long they are planning on keeping you here.” Jim stated before quickly leaving the room and the hospital, hurrying outside until the cold autumn air pierced his skin through his thin coat. This was it. After trying his best, coming from Italy to see how the sniper was doing, the man had nothing left than a few one-word replies and hatred. The flat wasn’t the only thing that laid in ruins, apparently. Idly standing on the pavement, Jim thought about where to live, in which safehouse to move into before eventually hiring a cab to get there.
Stranger: When Jim had left, Sebastian felt a cold emptiness in his belly that he had a hard time willing away. It felt, not for the first time, that his boss had disappeared, and he had failed. After waiting, and not having anybody come in, he did something that he hadn’t let himself do since Jim initially died. He broke down into sobs that hurt his throat. They died soon enough. It didn’t last long. Nevertheless, they reminded him of just how much he needed his Kitten back. His Jimmy, his Sir. There was nothing Sebastian could do but wait and get healed up in the goddamn hospital. Until then.. he was stuck.
You: ((Can I skip to the next day?))
Stranger: (( Oh yeah. XD Skip as many days as you’d like. ))
You: Due to being busy with getting his Web in London back, organising his data - which had been burned, a part of it at least - on the notebook he had carried with him through the better part of the world, threatening his clients and researching the recent criminal organisations in the city, Jim didn’t turn up at the hospital the next day. Not that he didn’t plan on doing it, but he just couldn’t fit it into his schedule. His determination forced him to keep working, though, so he didn’t sleep in oder to get everything done. And James Moriarty always got everything done when he wated to have it done. Dressed casually, the dogtags still dangling around his neck, he knocked at the door of room 62a two days after his first visit, hoping that he wouldn’t catch Sebastian sleeping.
Stranger: After about five days of sleeping, Sebastian was bored. He had been disappointed when Jim didn’t show up yesterday, but really, what did it matter? They had nothing more to say to each other, he’d found. So, he didn’t expect Jim to show up today, either. He just stayed put, scratching out a bad doodle on paper he’d been supplied in pen. He had nothing better to do, and was slowly going insane- that being said, in the past three hours, he’d gotten a hell of a lot better at drawing filing cabinets. The knock on the door was dismissed, and he said not a word. It was probably just a nurse that happened to be polite, and she was going to come in anyway. Marie, her name was? That, or Mark… He didn’t much care.
You: Mhn, no reply. That wasn’t particularly good, since Jim didn’t have the desire to wake the sniper up when he was sleeping and recovering. Hesitating for a moment, he knocked again before poking his head through the door, just as he had two days ago, relieved to find Sebastian awake. Now, he could only hope that he wasn’t going to be yelled at as soon as he would step into the room. “Hello Bastian.” the consultant greeted, occupying the same chair as before and glancing at the piece of paper in the blond’s hands. “How are you?”
Stranger: So it wasn’t the nurse. It was Jim. That fact in itself got Sebastian’s attention, and his more-awake eyes flickered over to his boss. At first, he didn’t say anything. Just kind of watched Jim. And then he crumpled up the paper and tossed it across the room, into the paper recycling bin. “Bored.” He muttered, putting the pen down. He knew that that probably wasn’t the answer that his c- the criminal was looking for. “You’re here again. Have you got something for me to do?” His tone of voice wasn’t hostile. It wasn’t rude, though it wasn’t hopeful either. It was just.. calm.
You: Smiling slightly, the consultant watched the paper on its way through the room until it hit the bottom of the bin. “Well, if you can be bored already, it can’t be too bad, can it?” The joke wasn’t that good - to be honest, it was rather bad - but he had wanted to make it in an attempt to get the mood to be a tad better. Despite his curiosity about what had been on the paper he stayed in his chair. “Yep, I’m here again.” Despite Sebastian not sounding too pleased about it. “Not really, but I got a mobile phone for you and the adress of the safe-house. Flat. Safe-flat. How are you, and I mean when you’re not bored.”
Stranger: Sebastian wasn’t sure if it was the medication making his perspective of things different, but he could have sworn that Jim had tried to make a joke. A joke that didn’t put him down, too bad, or anybody else. He waited a moment, digesting the words, and then he shrugged slightly. “I’m alive. A little charred around the edges, but for the most part, they’re weaning me off of the medications now. When I’m not bored, I’m usually asleep… but that’s better than being in agony.” He shrugged. “There have been much worse burn-survivors than what I’ve got. I’m not in any position to be complaining.”
You: So, it hadn’t be funny in the slightest, then. Maybe Jim should just stop trying to behave somewhat normal, even though he had slipped out of the cold psychpath behaviour a week or so ago. Maybe, it would help everything to go back to a more normal state. Maybe not. “I talked to a nurse on my way, and she told me that it would be good to keep you here until you don’t have to rely on the medications anymore. Might take a few days, though.” Sebastian wasn’t the only one who got terribly bored alone, working for 48 hours straight wasn’t as satisfactory anymore if there was nobody ‘annoying’ him.