You spin me right round

Chapter two

 If someone had actually said to John he would have found a man laid on the ground as he was himself walking down the streets to "think", he would have never believed him. But there he was, carrying the incredibly light body of this dying guy. Or well, he thought so. John hadn't had enough time to check what he was suffering from; he knew he hadn't to linger too much. All he had in his mind now wasn't even his problem of loneliness, but bringing the man to the hospital. He certainly would need approbation, but he didn't want to wait for it. Priorities first to his patient. If he could consider him as that.

It would probably seem very weird for the people he crossed but right now, he didn't really care. He walked as quickly as he could, trying to have a poker face, sometimes pleasing persons to go out of his way. He finally reached his car, sighing in relief.

-Alright, he looked down at the stranger and got more worried. Everything's fine, okay?

He received none answer, but he didn't wait for it at all. He laid the man gently down on the back seat of his car, paying attention to every movement he was doing. His gaze examined him quickly, but went slower as he looked at the brunet's pale face. And this view wasn't really nice. His eyes were pushed in their eye-sockets, his cheekbones were thin and sharp, so sharp he was sure he could have cut himself by touching them. The worst was that, it didn't seem there was skin anymore. It was like John was watching a skull. He shivered violently. He had seen many injuries, so much more horrible than this, but this time, it affected him deeply in his soul and mind. He blinked and shook his head, realizing he was losing precious time. He closed the door and nearly jumped on the driver seat, not even buckled up, and pressed on the accelerator. Usually, he would have fastened his belt.

John had always been that kind of man who searched to "break the rules". He was acting as a good citizen, with his normal life, his normal job, his normal habits. All of this certainly just to erase his painful past. But that wasn't that easy.

John Watson was a soldier. An army doctor, he became later. He had always been proud of it. To fight for his nation and his country he was proud of.

The first years of it were hard, very hard, so much than John was asking himself he would have the strength to continue any longer. After time, training and a lot of perseverance, he finally made it. He gained recognition, majors were even talking to him some times, telling how great he was in the field. The soldier was happy of it. That was what he wanted, and to reach it was like reaching an objective he fixed to himself for a long time ago.

He would have been prepared for it, the day all those commanders, lieutenants and officers came into the bedroom he was sharing with a lot of boys who became his friends. At first, every soldier looked at each others, some scared, some lost, some petrified. They then stared at the men who just arrived, waiting for them to speak.

John was tensed up. He knew something was happening, something big, something he wouldn't be able to control. A lot of ideas crossed his mind as he kept silent, his breath beginning to slowly accelerate. How much time they stayed like that? No one could tell. It was like the time stopped for a while, analyzing the situation before letting it continue. Perhaps they already all understood what was going on.

-Alright, boys. You've been chosen to be sent in Afghanistan, the low voice of the thinner one finally lifted up.

The blond soldier nodded softly, a little excited smile growing on his lips. He frowned as he realized it, wondering if it was normal to react like that.

-Here are the informations you need to have clearly in your head before going there. Read them carefully, please. Time off for the whole afternoon.