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[confidente]

[ He didn't really sleep last night, he spent most of it staring at a wall until he finally caved and dragged himself out into the kitchen. (It was early morning at this point.) Making the pot of tea didn't really help with the whole sleeping thing, but it was at least a decent distraction.

God, he needs something better to do than stare at walls and make pots of tea.

So now he's sitting at the kitchen table (of the flat) with his journal, slowly draining that pot of tea he made. Oh, it's a wonderful life. ]

Anyone got any suggestions on what someone can do when they can't sleep to save themselves? And don't say knitting, I'm absolutely terrible at knitting.

Comments

[confidente]

[ He really did listen, really...

He pulls a face and closes them again, trying to resist the urge to tap his fingers against the table. The lack of information or direction is a little... grating. But he's got his reasons, John repeats to himself. He is helping, just accept it never mind how round about the help might be. ]

[workaphilic]

[He's quiet for another few seconds, just to be sure.

When he does finally speak, his voice is very low.]

Picture yourself somewhere. Somewhere familiar, where you know the layout well. Really concentrate. Not good enough to just think in the abstract, you have to be there.

[confidente]

[ Inhale, exhale.

His brow furrows, concentration (or attempted) painted all over his face. He picks the lab, the same one he met Sherlock in, it always stuck in his mind for that reason. He tries to put himself there, it's hard and it shows. He's trying though, that much is obvious. ]

[workaphilic]

Relax. It takes time on the first go. Won't work if you allow yourself to get frustrated.

[confidente]

[ Alright, don't get frustrated. Breathe, breathing is good. A moment later his brow smooths out a little, he's by the door. That's a good start right? ]

[workaphilic]

Yes, good. [And he does really sound pleased.] It's all right if the scene is incomplete around the edges for now. It'll develop.

[confidente]

[ You know if he didn't know any better he'd think Sherlock could read his bloody mind and knows exactly what is happening in his head. ]

I... think I've got the door and island. [ Or at least half of the island. ]

[workaphilic]

[He's done this plenty of times himself. He knows what the first few tries feel like.]

Good enough for now. [He might have been hoping for a little more, but not everyone's Sherlock Holmes.] Try to move around. Don't leave the room, just see if you can maintain it.

[confidente]

[ At least he's managed to get something! It is probably more than he would've gotten from anyone else. ]

Alright. [ Inhale. The first step is slow, unsure, but he manages it. He takes a couple more a moment later and his brow relaxes, only to furrow again a moment later--the desire to open his eyes bothering him like an itch.

Don't open your eyes, John. Don't. ]

[workaphilic]

Take a moment to refocus if you have to. Don't get distracted.

[If you open your eyes and ruin all his careful teaching he will smack you, bro.]

[confidente]

[ He is trying really hard not to open his eyes! He should get a medal for being so well.

So his brow furrows again, he forces himself to ignore it and focuses, taking a few more steps into the half formed room. ]

[workaphilic]

Good. Better.

[He's quiet for a while. Then, musing:]

Might need to just stay where you are, for now. You can try leaving the room in a later session.

[Sometimes he forgets ordinary people need to take baby steps.]

[confidente]

[ WOW GEE THANKS FOR REMEMBERING. ]

Good plan. [ So he stays still, giving the half formed room another look over. He can see beakers and some pens. ]

[workaphilic]

[Quietly encouraging:]

Don't fuss over the details. Your mind is already adept at filling in blanks for itself. [More to himself:] Not always a useful trait, most people don't know how to separate what their mind's filled in from what's actually true [and wandering back on topic:] but here it will do most of the work for you. Let it.

[confidente]

Alright. [ It fills some of the blanks, a chair, microscope, but the others remain blank. Not a bad thing, he guesses. ]

Now what?

[workaphilic]

Now whatever you like. Practice. Test your boundaries. It's meant to be a mental exercise.

[confidente]

Right. [ Practice. Right. How... So yeah, he'll do some things. Test himself and the boundaries. And all that awesome shit because John is cool. And stuff. And kiku lazy as balls. ]

[workaphilic]

[amazing!! fantastic!!

Sherlock just watches him, gives him silence. It helps, when you're still learning. When he does finally pipe up, though, it's with no small amount of amusement in his voice.]

You've lasted quite a bit longer than I thought you would, to be honest.

[confidente]

[ At this point he is itching to open his eyes, he has a twitch in his left one. But he's determined, so he doesn't. But God does he want to. ]

Glad to know you've got so much faith in me. [ Sarcasm. He knows Sherlock's judgements are based more on realistic factors than anything. ]

[workaphilic]

You should consider it a compliment.

[confidente]

Oh I do. [ ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. HE'S OPENING HIS EYES NOW...

And regretting it almost instantly. Woah, okay, everything looks weird now. ]

[workaphilic]

[He's smiling, and there's a small (but genuine) amount of pride there. Look at you, John, stretching the boundaries of your mind.]

It gets easier with practice. It might be mentally taxing enough to help you sleep, but it's still a way to pass the time even if it isn't.

[confidente]

[ Yes, you should be proud of him!

He closes them again for a second, rubbing his eyes. Then blinks rapidly. His vision evens out eventually. ]

Yeah, I think that will help it.

[workaphilic]

Good. [And now he seems pleased with himself. Look, he helped!!!] Very good.

[confidente]

Thanks, Sherlock. [ Yes be pleased. ]