John Watson was not dead. He had been found by a kind family, one that he had helped in times past. They nursed him back to health, helping build his strength. Once he was strong enough, a month after the attack, he was able to contact the British Embassy. He didn't know what else to do. He was positive the military assumed he was dead, and he was positive it had been reported to his next of kin.
Sherlock.
His heart clenched. Once he was healthy enough to travel, he would return to London and beg for Sherlock's forgiveness.
Another two months went by before he was deemed healthy enough to travel.
London almost seemed foreign. He caught a cab to Baker Street. Would Sherlock still be there? He wasn't sure. He paid the cabbie and got out, using his cane to support himself as he walked up the stairs. Well, his key still worked.
He took the stairs carefully, until he was standing in front of the door to the flat... He swallowed and knocked. He was nervous, trembling a bit. Had Sherlock moved on?
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Date: 2018-04-03 05:56 pm (UTC)Sherlock.
His heart clenched. Once he was healthy enough to travel, he would return to London and beg for Sherlock's forgiveness.
Another two months went by before he was deemed healthy enough to travel.
London almost seemed foreign. He caught a cab to Baker Street. Would Sherlock still be there? He wasn't sure. He paid the cabbie and got out, using his cane to support himself as he walked up the stairs. Well, his key still worked.
He took the stairs carefully, until he was standing in front of the door to the flat... He swallowed and knocked. He was nervous, trembling a bit. Had Sherlock moved on?