The heart monitor beeped its last beep on Tuesday 15/07/16. And so that is what John had tattooed onto his shoulder, right below his scar and directly above his heart. Because there really was no other possible place; not when Sherlock had ruled both his heart and his mind by saving him from the past.
John stands by the black gravestone and thinks about how twelve long years ago, he had left a war, only to jump straight into another. He thinks about how different both were from the battle he faces now, and how little either had prepared him. And then he thinks about how the injuries you sustain don't hurt any less just because you can't see them; psychosomatic or not, emotional or not, they cripple you. He uses a cane now, for the first time in four, almost five years.
And he thinks about how the last time he had to use a cane, it was for this exact reason. It's then that he realizes something: the solar system doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because his world has always revolved around something so much larger than the sun; Sherlock.
Three Continents Watson has become Three Wars Watson, and John laughs bitterly.
It seems that it doesn't matter what you do, doesn't matter what you sacrifice;
All anybody ever is, is a casualty of war.
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A Desperate, Painful Kind of Love
FanfictionJohn watches Sherlock in the hospital room as his heart gives out again and again, and mourns the loss of his best friend. He knows it's asking too much but - one more miracle, Sherlock. Just one more. Please.
