Sigma Eta

It's Easy, Just Ask

John sat quietly in his own anger for a while, keeping his arms crossed and forgetting to pay attention to the game in front of him. Whatever was happening on the field was not nearly as consuming as what was unfolding next to him, and in his blind and rather unjustified anger he decided to focus on his bitterness instead of any external stimuli. When at last the quarter had been called the boys all regained their seats, following the will of the crowd and settling down as the teams all collected towards their coaches, seeking advice for the remainder of the first half of the game.
"I'm going to head up to the snack bar." Sherlock announced at last, taking to his feet and looking over his small audience for their reactions.
"Very nice." Sebastian muttered in response, obviously growing tired of Sherlock's long, dramatic wait for a proper reaction.
"And a bathroom break for me, I suppose." Tobias muttered a bit quieter, in an attempt not to bring unneeded attention to himself. John observed the two quietly; obviously not brave enough to speak a word of protest to their very poorly coordinated departures. Anyone with half a brain could tell that there was collusion, though it was not John's place to speak out against it. Whatever the two had planned was evidently none of his business, and since he wasn't trusted to be included in part of the arrangement he decided it was best not to ask. It was all he could do but nod, scooting a bit farther on the bench so as to distance himself from Sebastian's pointed elbows and disregarding the noisy footsteps of the two boys as they pranced up the aluminum on their way to better things.
"He irritates me." Sebastian admitted as soon as he figured it was safe to speak his true feelings aloud. John said nothing, feeling no need to argue or agree at the moment. On a day to day basis Sherlock was like a ray of sunshine in John's normally dark day, though tonight he was becoming very irritating indeed.
"Have you known him before this?" John wondered, taking the opportunity to conduct an informal investigation. The two acted as if there had been some past hostility, though mystery was clouded throughout their interactions.
"Not personally. I have known him in the past, known him through friends of friends. He's a trouble maker at heart, and always one step ahead." Sebastian grumbled.
"Why do you think he joined the fraternity all of the sudden, especially after being here so long?" John asked. Sebastian shrugged his shoulders, acting as though this were a fabulous question that he still didn't know the answer to.
"When I was first introduced to him I thought him to be a senior. Now, four years later, he still claims not to be. I'm not sure if the question is why he joined the fraternity after so long, I think the question is just how long is long." Sebastian corrected. John thought for a moment, looking towards Sebastian to make sure he wasn't joking about this. Any sort of smile, any facial fluctuation, might be the difference between a casual joke and a serious discussion.
"Maybe he's been here for a couple of years because he still needs credits. Perhaps he's a fifth year senior?" John suggested. Sebastian was quiet, tapping his feet together and nodding slowly.
"Or a sixth, or seventh." John added in, presuming that his first guess was silently rejected by his audience of one.
"Everything about him puts me on edge. I feel as if...as if he's waiting for me to make a mistake. I feel the need to keep my guard up, knowing he's waiting for the proper moment. And when that moment comes, well there's no telling what he'll do. There's no telling what he has in mind for me, once he gets that preliminary strike." Sebastian muttered. John didn't know what to say, probably because there seemed to be no proper way to respond. Sebastian sounded truly afraid, one of the first emotions that John had ever heard displayed in the man's all powerful voice. And what was John to do, in fact of what could only be fear? He could not pledge any protection; in fact he could not even pledge loyalty. Sebastian obviously felt as though a war was coming, though it may not be one fought with soldiers. Though if it were, if John was compelled to pick a side...
"What's the worst that can happen, Sebastian? Surely he's only a trickster, nothing more." John suggested a bit weakly. Even as the words came out of his mouth he felt them to be untrue, and perhaps Sebastian sensed his insecurity as well. Nevertheless he feigned comfort, figuring that it was no use dragging his poor brothers into his moral battle.
"Surely that." Sebastian agreed, folding his fingers anxiously into a little ball and forcing his concentration to fall upon the game at hand, the game which was now beginning back up. Even in the small break, Tobias and Sherlock had not returned. Perhaps the lines were long, or maybe they had struck up a conversation with a mutual friend somewhere along the way. Though despite these logical assumptions, John still had a rather sick feeling in his stomach. He felt as though he was missing something, as if something dire was happening even as he sat here idly. And how was he to know the state of things, being so far removed from the scene of the crime? How was John supposed to hear the small bout of commotion erupting from the stadium bathrooms, the clamor that ensued when two bodies hit the wall of the handicapped stall? And what was he supposed to do to protest the four feet which stood interlocking on the tile, visible for all who were brave enough to look? It was a sickening feeling, both the sensation of being left out and forgotten. And it was all John could do now but stare out over the field, hanging his chin within his hands and trying to distract himself from all that seemed most foul.