[ He sees the panic swell up, sees the shock and the instantaneous way in which he's struck by fight or flight once again; he's glad he enforced some distance because even from this far away, he can hear his heart racing. The air's thick with fear, the sort of fear that's instinctual and impossible for Sherlock to fully tune himself out of, because they're both reacting on instinct (except Sherlock's instincts have a nasty habit of surprising him and forcing him down dangerous avenues). He takes a leaf out of John's book, mimicking the way he held his palms up earlier - it might be slightly sardonic, but the gesture's there all the same.
Sherlock watches his body language physically change from frightened to soldier and he's reminded, quite forcibly, why he finds this man so interesting. To push your own instincts aside is no mean feat - Sherlock's been working on it for the last few centuries, and he still slips up from time to time (as recently witnessed).
That's about the most refreshing reaction he's ever had after revealing himself as a vampire. Doctor John Watson just gets curiouser and curiouser the more Sherlock tries to work him out.
Subconsciously, Sherlock mirrors John's breathing - he's not actively aware he's doing it, not at the moment - it's a self soothing motion, a leftover habit from when he was human and the action of physically breathing oxygen in was always soothing for obvious reasons. Sometimes he wonders what happens to the parts of his body that he no longer needs or uses. His lungs still work, but they're decorative - his heart doesn't pump blood around his body, because his body is dead. What keeps him from rotting, really? What keeps his brain working when there's no blood to keep it fresh? He is an anomaly, supernatural, beyond the principals of science and physics and the laws of the universe.
What makes him so special, really? For all intents and purposes, Sherlock should be dead, and yet he continues to live. His mind continues to fire synapses, his nerves continue to transmit pain and pleasure alike and he knows that going down this path of self analysis will only leave him with more questions than answers, but he can't help but be insatiably curious about everything.
He hums thoughtfully with the apology; if apologies are expected, then he should probably be the one to give them.
He doesn't apologise, though. What's the use? It's happened. No sense crying over spilt blood. ]
Have you dealt with any of the 'resilient' before?
[ If John wants to skirt around calling him a vampire out in the open, he won't be the one to challenge it. That doesn't mean he's not infinitely amused over the continued choice of word. ]
I lost a lot of blood; it needs replacing.
[ Which is perhaps the gentlest way in which he could have alluded to the act of hunting whilst in the presence of what is essentially his prey. Strange, the hoops you have to jump through in order to keep those lower on the food chain than yourself placated. ]
no subject
Sherlock watches his body language physically change from frightened to soldier and he's reminded, quite forcibly, why he finds this man so interesting. To push your own instincts aside is no mean feat - Sherlock's been working on it for the last few centuries, and he still slips up from time to time (as recently witnessed).
That's about the most refreshing reaction he's ever had after revealing himself as a vampire. Doctor John Watson just gets curiouser and curiouser the more Sherlock tries to work him out.
Subconsciously, Sherlock mirrors John's breathing - he's not actively aware he's doing it, not at the moment - it's a self soothing motion, a leftover habit from when he was human and the action of physically breathing oxygen in was always soothing for obvious reasons. Sometimes he wonders what happens to the parts of his body that he no longer needs or uses. His lungs still work, but they're decorative - his heart doesn't pump blood around his body, because his body is dead. What keeps him from rotting, really? What keeps his brain working when there's no blood to keep it fresh? He is an anomaly, supernatural, beyond the principals of science and physics and the laws of the universe.
What makes him so special, really? For all intents and purposes, Sherlock should be dead, and yet he continues to live. His mind continues to fire synapses, his nerves continue to transmit pain and pleasure alike and he knows that going down this path of self analysis will only leave him with more questions than answers, but he can't help but be insatiably curious about everything.
He hums thoughtfully with the apology; if apologies are expected, then he should probably be the one to give them.
He doesn't apologise, though. What's the use? It's happened. No sense crying over spilt blood. ]
Have you dealt with any of the 'resilient' before?
[ If John wants to skirt around calling him a vampire out in the open, he won't be the one to challenge it. That doesn't mean he's not infinitely amused over the continued choice of word. ]
I lost a lot of blood; it needs replacing.
[ Which is perhaps the gentlest way in which he could have alluded to the act of hunting whilst in the presence of what is essentially his prey. Strange, the hoops you have to jump through in order to keep those lower on the food chain than yourself placated. ]