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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

[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. ]

[workaphilic]

Yes. Well. [He drums his fingers on the table, the sentiment a little foreign to express.] It's a useful skill to have, in any case.

["You're welcome."]

[confidente]

[ Sentiment. ] I hate to say you're right.

[workaphilic]

[He grins.]

Ah, but I usually am.

[confidente]

[ EYEROLL. ] Don't let it get to your head.

[workaphilic]

Some might tell you it's too late for that.