Prologue

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John Hamish Watson, 31, came back from miltary service in Afghanistan. The brave soldier saw many deaths, enough for a lifetime. He was wounded during his service and came back with a psychomatic limp and a scar on his shoulder.

Coming back home, living in a dark apartment, not having much money, seperated from his friends, he was left with a lonely heart and soul. Nightmares kept occured in his dreams. He only had one solution; therapy.

"John, you're a soldier. It's going to take a while for you to fit into civilian life."
His therapist said.
"No. That's not the problem."
He thought.
"And writing a blog about it will seriously help you."

He decided to take a stroll in the park.
...
"John? John Watson!"
"Huh?" John thought, he turned back to find an overweight man calling him.
"It's me, Stamford. Mike Stamford, we were in Barts together!"
"Oh, yes, Mike, ummm..great, nice to see you!"

Then they had coffee together and talked.

"So, when are you going to find a flatshare?" Mike asked.
"Hmph, who would want me for a flatmate?"
"Hmm,....,*hahahahahaha*."
"What? What's so funny?" John asked eagerly.
"You know, you're the second person who said that to me today."
"And who was the first?"
"Let me show you a whole new world." Mike said.
"A new world? What could he possibly meant to say?" John thought.

They walked together to St. Bartholomew Hospital.

"What are we doing here? Is this fellow Mike talked about works here? Or is this a fellow a student?" John thought.
They entered a room.

"Here we are!" Mike said.
"Looks a bit different from my day." John said, as he did trained as an army doctor at that very place.

Then another sound turned up,
"Mike can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." A dark haired bloke spoke.

"Wow, is he a student here? But really does not seem like it, and from the way he called Mike, 'Mike' shows that he is not younger or below him which indicates he is not a student, hmmm. Is he a teacher then? And man, he has a good body proportion! Charming blue eyes studying every bit of cells, dark brown, curly hair. He looks spectacular! Wait, why am I thinking this? Why? Is he.........William? No, impossible."

Many thoughts raced in John's mind as he clenched his palm.

"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked.
"I prefer to text."

"Uh, here...use mine." John said, handing his phone.
"Oh, thanks."

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 24, 2016 ⏰

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