Disclaimer: I own nothing.
John being aware of the wolf's actions, of course, required careful examination. Was it the start of further changes inside my friend? A fluke? Or did it depend on some variable that had now happened for the first time?
"John, forgive me for asking in a most imprecise manner, but...are you feeling closer to your wolf self?" I queried the following day.
The heartfelt, "No, and God, I hope I'm not going to be – I'd say that I'm more than enough wolf, don't you?" I got in reply shot down my first hypothesis (unless it could happen without John realizing it – but I didn't think so).
I shrugged in response to his question. I didn't care what he was. I loved him either way.
His distaste for that part of him was still strong, then. I couldn't help but wish that he realized that the wolf did nothing which deserved his hatred. Though of course now that the creature was bedding me maybe John was disgusted by that, too. It certainly didn't help him change opinion about his other self.
I didn't think that offering to stop our dalliances in order for him to be a bit more in John's good graces would be that well received by the wolf, though. And honestly, I wasn't keen on renouncing it either. Even after only once, I'm afraid that I was entirely hooked to the feeling.
But now was not the moment to dwell on that, before I made myself want what was not mine to request. I simply had to be there for my...mate, to use his words, when he needed it. I couldn't ask for it – especially because my friend was now in control of his body.
So back to work, Sherlock. John has been aware of the wolf's actions. Possible variables that might have caused this? Recall the scene. (And try not to dwell on how downright sexy he looked – that avenue will bring me nowhere, as already stated. It really shouldn't be so difficult. I'm disappointed in myself.)
What was different between that wolf and the usual wolf? Besides, of course, that for the first time he looked murderous. I hoped bloodlust was not the thing that opened a channel between John's separate identities. That would be troublesome and spell things I didn't want to believe about my friend's nature.
Of course, I started with the external, measurable variables that could have prompted this, from the weather to chemicals present in the atmosphere of that warehouse. But that avenue of thinking left me without a viable conclusion – though it might very well be because I was no expert about werewolves' biochemistry.
I was afraid that John's new condition, occasional as it might be, was destined to remain a mystery to me, when I had an epiphany. I remembered him saying that he was cheering the wolf on, and the creature's claim to be no more than the manifestation of my friend's deeper instincts.
So maybe the wolf blocked him out when he took over not to have to deal with John's protests – or his uncomfortableness with the situation – but if my friend agreed with the proceedings, his subconscious saw no reason to exclude him entirely from what was happening. It was a plausible hypothesis, and as anyone else, needed confirmation through experiments.
Before that, though, I had a question. "John, when you were aware of the wolf's actions, was it better than being unconscious of them? Something you would care to repeat?" Being conscious but trapped in one's own body could, after all, be the definition of nightmare. I didn't mean to hurt him unwittingly.
"Well, at least I knew that I didn't hurt anyone that didn't amply deserve it when I was. Yes, I would say that being aware even when not in control is something I'd like on a regular basis," he replied.
Now, though, I was stumped because what could I prompt the wolf into doing that John would agree with? My friend didn't trust his other self. There was, of course, the saving me business, but I wasn't about to turn into a damsel in distress. I try to keep a balance between the times we save each other, at least outwardly. Without appearing to, he's saved me from myself more times than I can count already.
I tried to devise something that would not require me to give the experimentation away, but John's fear of the wolf was too deep seated. So, , even though it would be best to keep John unaware of the ongoing experiments, from a scientific standpoint, I gave up in that and informed him of my theory in order to have his cooperation in proving or disproving it.
"I've been thinking – I know that you trust me to take care of the wolf, and I'm really grateful for it – but if you want to be conscious of his actions, maybe you simply should start trusting him, or yourself, as it were, a bit more. You said that he didn't shut you out when you both agreed on what had to be done," I said. Maybe not my most clear explanation, but I was a bit hesitant, as I knew he wouldn't like the idea.
"How can I trust it, Sherlock, it's -" he replied, frustrated.
"He's not a thing, to begin with, and you could give him the proper pronoun at least," I cut him off. "He's you, well, part of you, and you should really stop worrying that he would rip someone's throat open without reason."
"Have you forgotten that I've – it...he, if you want, has – attacked you in the past?" John queried, aghast at the memory.
"Subdued, John. There's a difference. You've never actually hurt me. Why can't you trust yourself?"
I pointed out calmly.
"That thing is not me!" my friend yelled.
"And who else would he be then?" I challenged, echoing almost exactly what the creature had once told me.
"The devil, for all I know!" John huffed.
"Don't be ridiculous, John!" I scolded sharply.
"Because werewolves existing makes perfect sense but the devil doing so instead is absurd, is it?" he snorted.
"Because if your hypothesis is right, the devil is a much maligned, exceedingly pleasant fellow," I countered with a shrug.
"Right. I'd forgotten how very much you like the bloody wolf," John said bitterly. I couldn't help but blush a bit.
"That's not what we are discussing. I have a working hypothesis about how you could be more aware of the creature's doings, which you said was desirable. All I'm asking is that you stop being terrified of yourself. Agree with the wolf sometimes. Or at least try to. It could not work for all I know, but we won't know until you try. There's nothing in you that should inspire fear and hatred, John. Really. And I'm not saying so because of my...dalliances, if that's what you're implying. I am simply doing my best to analyse the situation," I stated, trying to project a cold scientist and not an embarrassed lover.
"And I know that your best is pretty much the absolute possible best, but trusting it...him, is difficult," John admitted, now less confrontational.
"I know, John. All I ask is that you try. Every now and then, at least. For science, John!" I cajoled enthusiastically.
He laughed unamusedly. "You and your science! 'Sherlock Holmes: on the scientific approach to bloody mythical creatures. A monography.' "
"It doesn't sound so bad. If the situation was reversed, you'd have published 'My flatmate is a werewolf', or some other inane title," I replied.
"I wouldn't have," John assured me, and I knew it was heartfelt.
"And why not? Nobody would have believed you anyway." I shrugged.
"You're not suggesting me to go public, are you?" he wondered, baffled.
"No, no, I quite like it as our little secret." The last thing I wanted were occult fangirls throwing themselves at John. Even uncomfortable about the wolf as he was, he'd have obviously ended accepting their offers – and he wouldn't need me in that capacity anymore. No matter what the wolf said.
"All I'm asking is that you trust yourself – agree with the wolf's actions – sometimes. If not for science, for me," I stated with a weak grin. "He won't shut you out, then...or so I hope."
"For you, I'll have to try, then. You've done so much for me. But honestly the idea of agreeing with the beast terrifies me," John said, giving in at last.
I could have pointed out that he'd already done so, but I didn't think he'd like the reminder. So instead I replied. "I hope that you'll have a pleasant surprise, John. He's really not bad. Even with your strict morals, I believe that you'll find out that agreeing to his projects might be acceptable. And you wouldn't have these annoying blackouts anymore."
"Or I'll prove your theory wrong," my friend bit back.
"Of course," I agreed. But I didn't believe it'd happen.