The biker ran into John and the ex-army doctor fell to the ground. He blindly stood up. ‘Sherlock’ He thought. When he finally got up he made his way to Sherlock’s body on the ground, choosing now of all times to remember the time before their first case.
Mrs. Hudson had gone to make him a cuppa when the mad man came to the door and spoke.
“You’re a doctor.” He had stated in his always leveled, baritone voice. “In fact, you’re an army doctor.”
“Yes.” John replied, he was still amazed by Sherlock’s abilities then. In fact, he thought he would never stop being amazed by the man.
“Any good?” He had asked so simply as if he already knew what John what going to say.
“Very good.” John had replied without missing a single beat.
“Seen a lot of injuries then,” The detective looked at him with his blue-green eyes as if he was reading John like an open book on the coffee table. “Violent deaths.”
“Well,” Back then John hadn’t known how the answer Sherlock when it came to things he knew. “Yes.”
“Bit of trouble too I bet.” He spoke like he knew exactly where this conversation would lead to. ‘I suppose he did.’ John thought.
“Of course.” John answered. “Yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much.”
Sherlock had the next words in the form of a question, but they had almost seemed like an invitation to see the battleground again. “Wanna see more?”
Now, John stood looking at the same man- his best friend- on the ground. There was blood on the ground and Sherlock seemed broken and dead.
John had answered Sherlock’s question back then, but he was sure if the man asked it again his answer would change.
“Wanna see more?”
“Oh god, no…”
