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johnlock4ever17

twobleedinghearts

“Oh, hi there!” Scarlett jumped slightly as she left her house, a small smile on her lips, trying to be the happy person of the neighbourhood, maybe people would like her them. “Can I help you?”

[Leyman's near illegible and erratic Gaelic scrawl spreads across the pages of a leather-bound journal, pages yellowed, covers ornamented with Celtic knots and a dragon on both sides. There's a silver clasp which holds it shut, but currently it lay across his lap as he murmured in his chair, deep asleep. A mechanical pencil rested halfway in his hand and Bell lay at his feet, huffing and twitching while she dreamed. Sherlock had been given the bed and it was late, honestly he had figured the sun would be rising any moment. Leyman had written the following.]

[Translated]

Today made me remember why I keep to myself. People (and Time Lords, I suppose) hurt. People (and Time Lords) are able to be hurt. It's easier to do what I do, to live my life, without that memory. To go alone is better, I think, than having to deal with the constant pain of having to care. To be cared for.

I was called in today from my studies (small trek to the library, managed to stitch myself up alone this time) by Sherlock and Jess for some news they wished to share with me. They are getting married. One month. Everyone was there except for the Doctor, and they seemed genuinely happy to tell me the news. Of course, old geezer that I am, my confusion killed the mood. They looked at me as though I were ill or faint (which, in a way, is the truth) and the mood was ruined.

In reality, however, it was a matter of wondering why.

Why would they want to tell me? What have I done besides what I always do? So I've protected him more than once, that shouldn't change anything. I've had repeat clients before, but this is so new to me, the way they seem to want to accept me and, simultaneously, push me away. I'm a burden to them. An enigma which does nothing more than cuss in a foreign accent and boss people around, keeping secrets and being awkward.

I don't deserve to be included in that group, and honestly I hadn't considered myself to ever be a part of it. Sherlock just tends to get his arse in trouble frequently. I stay either because I'm needed for my condition alone or because Angie takes me along. I suppose that's fine, someone needs to be the parent of the gr [frantic erasing]

The point is, they told me something personal only for the reason that they wished to on their own accord. Why would they risk that? Why chance even associating with a freak who's mere presence draws danger? I've never had "friends" and I never will. So what does that make Sherlock Holmes, Jess Martin, Kira (I still need her last name, stubborn girl), the Master, Jack Harkness, and the Doctor?

I didn't have time last night so here goes nothing. The Master's child loves me. There's no other word possible to describe what I felt in her mind. Words are easy to see through, but these were her thoughts. Although, she is a Time Lady (in progress), she could mask the truth and manipulate me... But I feel that's not the case.

They're naming their child in Gaelic in my honor. "Pure". I asked them not to. I've already touched her mind, there's never a way she'll be "pure" again. I warned the two, but the wizard knows nothing, apparently.

I felt such guilt touching her mind without the ability to stop. I was profaning her very soul, her essence, before she was even born. New record for William Leyman, professional life ruiner. However, the worst is yet to come: the lass called me "Uncle."

I could never be in a family.

Never. 

Not after D.

I would be like him, there's such dark in me, such chaos that I can never rely on to stay hidden and away. I would only hurt that innocent darling girl. She told me I was good on the inside, that I was a good man, that I had wiped away the darkness behind me long ago. I couldn't show her how wrong she was, stubborn thing wouldn't agree.

I made a promise to the Master, the Doctor, and to Catriona herself that I would be there. My injuries and idiocity have caused me to break that vow. Stars, he was in so much pain, such terror, and Pure was terrified, trying to be brave and focused on helping me. Me. The king of the unworthy. The last things she said

[many splotches where tears obviously hit the paper, writing is on the verge of complete illegibility]

She called me Uncle Leyman. She promised they'd be fine. She cut me from the link because she knew I was in pain. I failed what little chance at a family I had.

I need to break away again. I need to leave these people behind so that I won't hurt them any more.

Besides that there was another rabbit at my door. Daghmiir is close. It makes me rethink the relative safety I was convinced of over all these years. He could've been in the shadows the whole time without my knowledge. He could know everything. He could be here now.

If so, know this. Hurt me, not them.

Angie... I don't want to lose Angie, but I want her to lose me. I want her to go back to her life before I fucked it up. Before I showed up with my smart ass and my damned magic. She'll never leave now. One day I'll be the death of her. If she lives to a ripe old age I'll still be left to live on centuries after (provided I'm not violently killed, either).

I will nev