Work Text:
It was supposed to get easier.
John didn’t have to lie any more. Russell and the others knew the truth. He could use his own name, wear his own glasses, and be himself. They knew him, they accepted him, and for some incomprehensible reason they wanted him around. It should be easier.
But then, people had been telling him it would get easier all his life.
It was a normal day. Another crime scene, another murder, and he should be used to it by now, and he was some of the other time, but other times it was too much. Too much noise, too many people, too much chaos, too much…everything.
At least he had made it to the car before having a panic attack.
John pulled his glasses, buried his face in his hands, and visualised a blank 15x15 grid. He summoned up letters, words, clues, things that had rules and made sense, and when his hands stopped shaking fumbled for his notebook. He sketched out the grid and kept writing.
This, he understood. This made sense.
He was filling in 18 down - facetious - when there was a cough. John froze, but when he glanced round it was to see Russell, standing by the window with clear concern written on his face. He hesitated, squashing the sudden urge to duck down and hide, and rolled down the window.
“Sorry.”
He was holding up the whole team; there was a killer out there somewhere, and they didn’t have time for John to have a breakdown. To his surprise, Russell just shook his head. “It was pretty loud in there.” His dark eyes didn’t leave John’s. “You all right?”
John nodded. His stomach was churning, and his pen was tapping against the page. He stilled it quickly. It would ruin the puzzle. Russell’s eyes flicked down, and he leaned against the car.
“Simon’s getting you tea. Black,” he added. “No sugar, we know.”
John blinked. This wasn’t what people normally said when he was causing a fuss. Russell’s eyes softened a little. “Anything you need?”
“No,” said John. “Thank you. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologise, Guv. John.” He shook his head. “Just take a minute, all right? Come back in when you’re ready.”
John looked at him, but there still wasn’t any trace of frustration or impatience. Reading people had never been his specialty, but those emotions he could recognise, and he couldn’t see them here. Russell gave him a small smile, and headed back towards the crime scene.
He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t telling John to get a grip. He wasn’t acting like John was being a huge inconvenience to everyone in the vicinity.
It was odd. Very odd.
Not unpleasant though.
John took a deep breath. The crossword lay finished on his lap. Russell stood talking to Alice, and Simon was approaching with a cup of something steaming in his hands. None of them were angry. None of them were upset.
Maybe this time, things really would get easier.