Getting on my own nerves [bhu]

[I L Y I C H]

It had been a hassle getting over here. Getting within the boarders. Mud still hung thick around my elbows, and as wonderful as it was to reek of another pride's scent markers I didn't find it to be a grand thing. But it had to be worth it. Had to be. Granted I had abandoned the man, but he should have known why. Not an excuse, but the closest I could come. Grimacing I slithered a bit farther forward, tail tweaking. My coat already a deep charcoal was further masked by the ebony patterns sprayed across. hopefully it would be invisible to anyone on sentry duty, as surly after the day's fiasco there would be. But this was important. The earlier situation had demanded my immediate action, and as much as I had wanted to run after this silly Margay that instant I couldn't. As odd as it seemed I was deeply happy with Ende. I enjoyed them, and their thoughts of me... almost mattered.

But right now my eyes were once again focused on the creature who mattered above all else. I'd ruined my relationship with my doctor, and that needed to be fixed. I would fix it. It had to be so. Looking around again I settled down on my belly, the front half of my body extended out of the grasses towards the obliviously sleeping creature. It wouldn't be the first time I tried to wake him up just by staring. As badly as I wanted to talk to him I couldn't just up and touch him. It seemed to me as if doing so would shatter whatever glass remained to the glass that held out friendship. I wasn't good at these things. Wasn't good at holding relationships in any form, and he knew that. Had to know that. I'd annoyed him enough with the fact.

frowning deeply I gave into temptation and breathed out heavily in an effort to heat up the air enough to rouse him. John was a soldier he wasn't one to sleep deeply. I would also assume that the day's events had hurt him somehow. Mentally. Emotionally. Watson always got so upset with those around him. They didn't understand how empathetic he was. Didn't understand that every action hurt him. Not that I was one to say a word. I knew full well and wen right along on my merry way acting out in the manor that I had grown up with. Hypocrite was a thing I very much was and with a low grumbling sigh I watched in tandem silence. Waiting.

[Bhu ♥ Irwin]

I smelled him even before I felt his presence. Mud may hide such scents from those of my pride mates, but they were not soldiers. I dared not open my eyes, merely shifted in my sleep to have my back be what the beast stared into. It was only when he breathed on me that I finally maneuvered silently to my paws, back remaining to the man. “You’re trespassing on Zonta territory, Ende warrior.” My tone was blank as it whispered past my teeth, not at all spilling what my mind truly thought.

If my heart had its way, I would spin around and nudge this man, forgiving him and even apologizing for expecting more of him than he could give. But I was as stubborn as Sherlock, just I reserved such childish things for the events that mattered most. I did not care that this was simply who Sherlock was; he had hurt me. I was a sensitive being when it came to my relationships—I only reserved my heart for a few. I expected those who owned my heart would act a certain way. Yet, the man that held it firmer than all others, was the one I should expect the least from in way of devotion.

My ears lay back as I finally turned towards the jaguar, whiskers pulled towards my cheeks in a display of suspicious aggression. “Ende cats do not come on pride lands with selfless intentions. Leave at once or I will call to my pride.” Simba was on sentry duty. I was not surprised that Sherlock had managed to weave under the lion’s radar. He was a good man, but a soldier he was not. Having the attention span on a noodle did not make for good watchdogs. Alphonse usually avoided putting Simba on watch, but the alpha was not here at the moment—he was still off sulking, despite the fact that the past could not be undone. I knew all too well the remorse he was going through—the overpowering self-hate. The man and I simply dealt with our emotions differently. I put my rage and guilt forward to show off as passion. Alphonse simply killed things or acted like a child while putting himself and others at risk. In his absence, I had persuaded Simba to take sentry duty for the night. It was Alphonse’s turn but, with him gone, we needed someone else and the rest of us were exhausted from our own sleepless evenings of watching blackness that never changed.

Blinking out of my distraction, I dropped the charade and wagged my tail once behind me. Face contorted into a sorry attempt to remain emotionless, I stood up and stared into the man’s eyes. “I killed a child thinking you were dead.” I blinked away the welling of tears that splashed forward at the memory of the slaughter. The cougar had been only a teen; still ripe in her innocence. That leopard beside her had wailed as if the world had just ended—her world. I would carry that on my shoulders forever, and I blamed this jaguar, at least partially. “You—it was you who killed Durante, wasn’t it? I knew your scent was strongest on that muddy murderer. I merely assumed he had been the one to kill you.” I choked on the words as the coughed upwards. “I never thought it would be you killing our pack mate. No, actually, that I could expect. I never thought you’d be so close and not even look at me.” The pain that fell from my lips, the tone dripping in agony, rose up easily above the sound of the falling rain. I had to get it out. I had lived too long (a single day was more than I could handle) thinking my Sherlock was dead. Yet now he stood before me and the truth proved even more painful to my breaking heart. This man had been alive and well, and he had not even thought to tell me.

“Friends don’t let friends believe they are dead.” Even in the heat of my hurt and my anger, those words came out lighter with a hint of humor peaking in the tone. If I was not so emotionally involved in the matter, I would have found it comical. But I was emotionally involved, and even the light tone was still too heavy to be called any level of pleasure. “You should have told me.” It is my right to know where you are, you arrogant oaf. Here I was with my panties in a bunch thinking you’re dead, and you were just off gallivanting with your new friends.

[I L Y I C H]

I ignored him, of course I did. John knew I wouldn't leave no matter whom he decided to call over here. Stubbornness set my stomach upon the damp ground; drove stout claws in as if to add to the effect. The good doctor wouldn't chase me off. Couldn't. My selfishness was known very well by him after all, and he should have factored that into this discussion. Listening in complete silence I remained stiff as a board. Accepting. Awaiting my punishment. "Yes" The answer pressed quietly passed my lips, drawn out in a low almost mildly confused manor. Durante had deserved to die. Everything he was went against the way cats were meant to act. Perhaps I was being a hypocrite but then I knew full well that death was a thing I too deserved. If only for the pain glinting in Watson's eyes now.

Half of me wanted to point out that that twat would never have been able to defeat me in open battle, but the other half was too caught up on the following sentence to react to my own prat intentions. "You thought-?" Frowning deeply I scooted forward a little bit, ears swiveling back. "Why would you have wanted me to look for you? You who was protecting Eznox whilst I tore it apart?" My lips pealed back slightly, confusion mounting in solid gray eyes. Didn't you hate me? I wasn't like him. Wasn't like my good Doctor. My mind told me things in a cold clinical way. Hate spilled between the intuition. There was no room for forgiveness or sympathy. I had hated Eznox with my entire being, and I had destroyed it and my only regret was that I had upset John. That I had driven John to do something so wholly against his morals and personality.

How could he even look at me, let alone want me to look to him?

Stiff as a board and quiet blank in the face I stared at the tawny man for a long minute. Lips parting just slightly I looked into his now more open face in deep conflicted emotion. Never the less my face stayed in it's normal pinched contemplative manor. I couldn't help it. Masks are in place for a reason and mine wasn't about to slip away so easily. Never the less I made a small effort and licking my lips once I spoke; accent thicker then usual. "I don't understand"

[Bhu ♥ Irwin]

Because I love you, you idiot. It took all my will not to spill the words. This man, my brother and only friend. He was the only family I had. He was my everything. I finally broke away from his eyes and looked to my paws. “You mean more to me than Eznox did. How could you not know that? I would rather see you’re alive and tearing us apart, than think you are dead from the ones attacking.” The words spilled out. They were not said in any classy or intellectual manner, just simply complete honesty. As much as my heart ached, I knew Sherlock deserved nothing less than complete honesty on my part.

“I would not expect you to.” There, I admitted it. All these things rolling through my head were strange for Sherlock, something foreign. It was like asking an infant to read Shakespeare and write a complete essay analyzing every line of it. There was no grasping of this concept for him. I was being cruel to punish him for a pain he did not understand. However, I was mortal. We don’t always consider the other person when put into an emotionally overwhelming situation. This was my selfish time; everyone needed a time to only think about themselves. “Another think you wouldn’t understand is how much it hurt thinking you were dead, Sherlock.”

With that I let the pain slip aside and I gave the man a smile; a gentle smile that only stretched up a few inches, but held all the adoration I felt for him. “You ever do something like that again without telling me first, I wring your neck, you hear me?” I did not laugh, only smiled as I worked a serious tone. It was true; I forgave Sherlock. I always would forgive Sherlock. But next time he disappeared without warning, I would hunt him down and beat him senseless to the point where he would never be able to leave me again.