These Days

Dracula Can't Be Tamed

John POV. Dinner came and went, and John stared at his food and avoid eye contact with the woman he called his wife. Mary tried to start conversation, to ask him how his day went and all that, but John answered her only with one word, if that. In the end she gave up, joining the silently staring at their food party. When finally all of the baked ziti was off of their plates and the dishes getting washed in the safety of the humming dishwasher, John walked up to his room in an attempt to get his mind straight. But his mind wasn't straight; actually there was no longer anything straight about John Watson except his posture and the ironed clothes he wore. Sherlock had been a bigger problem than John could have ever guessed, but he was a brilliant problem, a problem John aspired to have. He walked to his room but noticed that Hamish's door was slightly open and the boy was sitting on his bed, flipping through some sort of magazine.
"Hey bud, what are you doing?" John asked, opening the door a bit more and looking in.
"I'm looking at Halloween costumes." He pointed out.
"Already?" John asked.
"It's October 20th daddy, we've got eleven days." He pointed out.
"October already." John sighed. He had been a bit hazy anymore; the date didn't seem to matter when it felt like your life was eternal torture.
"It has been for twenty days." Hamish giggled, as if John's obliviousness was some sort of joke. John crossed the room, sitting next to Hamish and looking at the costumes as well.
"What are you thinking about getting?" he asked.
"Well, it has to be really good this year because there is a Halloween festival this year." Hamish pointed out. Suddenly John stiffened, interested a lot more in this festival.
"In your school?" he asked.
"Ya, Mr. Holmes gave us the papers, it's on Halloween and we're all supposed to wear costumes, even the parents!" Hamish exclaimed, as if that were the greatest thing someone could've come up with. John smiled a little bit, taking the neon orange paper Hamish handed him and examining it. The thought that if he could go, he could see Mr. Holmes again, and he'd have to be dressed up as well... But then again if John went then Mary was sure to come, how could the two of them get a decent word in if that wife was hanging around? He'll figure it out when he must.
"I wanted to be Vision, but I think the costume is a bit creepy." Hamish decided, showing John a rather disturbing costume attempting to portray the Vision from Avengers, but the mask was all floppy and the costume rather ugly.
"Ya, let's not be that." John agreed with a laugh.
"And then I thought maybe Captain America..." Hamish shrugged.
"You've been him for the last two years!" John defended.
"But he keeps changing uniforms so no one will know!" Hamish protested.
"We adults may be a bit oblivious, but we know who Captain America is, even though he might not have the same uniform." John defended. Hamish groaned, as if he had just taken his backup plan. "How about you be something other than a super hero, there must be other things, like a dinosaur, or a race car driver or something." John suggested. Hamish looked a bit pouty, slouching down and mumbling something.
"Maybe a Stormtrooper." He mumbled halfheartedly.
"Perfect! They're cool!" John decided.
"Then never hit their target." Hamish muttered. "Captain America does."
"You know what, I'm not the best fashion critic anyway, be whatever you want, knock yourself out, but make sure you consult you mother before you make a final decision." John decided, clapping his son on the back reassuringly and walking out of the room. Costumes, what could he possibly be for Halloween? It had never been a problem until now, Mary was the one who coordinated the outfits and he was always at home giving out the candy anyway.
"John dear, is everything alright?" Mary asked. John turned to see her leaning on the wall, looking slightly worried.
"Course it is, he's just trying to figure out a Halloween..." John started.
"Not Hamish." Mary sighed. John frowned slightly, not wanting to have this conversation now.
"Everything is fine." John lied.
"You're forgetting that we're married, I can tell when you're lying." Oh, if only he could forget they were married.
"Then what do you want me to say?" John asked.
"I want you to tell me what's been going on, you're, well, I don't know what you are, but you're not yourself and that worries me." Mary decided. Mary took a step forward and John's feet itched to retreat, but then she'd definitely be able to tell there was something wrong.
"I'm just stressed; it must be the weather or something." John shrugged.
"It's been too long for it to be the weather." Mary decided.
"Then I don't know what to tell you, I'm just a bit stressed I suppose." John shrugged. This time Mary wasn't trying to be discrete; she walked right up and took his hands. Her skin was ice, and her eyes were angry flames. John wanted to step away and push her back, the only person he wanted to be this close to was Sherlock.
"You're not wearing your wedding ring." Mary pointed out. With a jolt of fear John realized that he hadn't put it back on, and that it was still sitting in his pocket where he had left it.
"Oh, I suppose I'm not. Sorry, I took it off because we were doing some work in the mud and I didn't want to get it all dirty. Must have forgotten to put it back on." John muttered, taking it out of his pocket and showing Mary guiltily. His wife smiled, taking the wedding band and slipping it gently back onto his finger.
"Marriage is a promise John, and I promise that no matter what I will be here, so if you ever need to talk, just ask." Mary insisted. John nodded stiffly, hoping he didn't look as guilty as he felt. She kissed him softly and then gave him a gentle hug, but John just stared right over her shoulder and scowled at what he saw. This terrible guilt was literally eating him up inside, at this point he should just run, and keep running and never look back.