Marriage and Mental Illness (Sequel to Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles)

Trials and Tribulations

John's POV

"John Hamish Watson-Holmes, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"I swear by Almighty God that I will tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

The clerk stepped away with the bible, motioning for me to the witness stand. Legs shaking, I took a seat. I dared a glance at Sherlock, an empty seat by his side.

He dipped his head, giving the faintest hint of a smile. His words from this morning echoed in my mind. 'It will be okay. You'll get through this.'

I exhaled slowly, turning my attention to Maxwell as he walked closer. "It is 'Captain' John Watson-Holmes, is it not?" He asked.

"Yes, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers." I nodded.

Maxwell took another step so that his arm was leaning against witness stand as he spoke. "Experienced then? Seen war?"

"Three years in Afghanistan. I was an army suregeon, veteran of Kandahar, Helmand, and Bart's Hospital."

It was one of Maxwell's assistants that had told me to say the whole thing, explaining that it would show the jury that I was experienced rather than them just having to trust me.

"I guess so then," Maxwell chuckled. A small lingering laugh began around the room. I cracked my knuckles under the stand, fighting to keep my breathing calm.

"Tell me, Captain, how did you begin learning about the new deaths caused by the Soldiers of the Superior?"

My gaze flashed to Sherlock, sitting calmly on the other side of the room. I opened my mouth to speak, finding it suddenly dry. What the hell was wrong with me? I'm not normally like this, normally I can speak in this setting just fine. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"I was on my honeymoon. My husband and I do a lot of work with Scotland Yard, some of our closest friends work there."

Greg's lips curved upwards in the corner of my eye.

"Sherlock, my husband," I added awkwardly. It was so strange that these people needed every detail, nothing could be condensed. "Was needed for some work on it. We had everything emailed to us and he started working on it every now and then."

My hands were shaking heavily, I pressed them into my jeans to stop them. It didn't work.

"How did these people, these ten other victims, die, Dr. Watson Holmes?" Maxwell asked, turning to direct his attention at Stewart, the eyes of the jury following.

"Multiple stab wounds for the most part. Each victim had between 20 to 30 stab wounds. Before they died, racial and religous slurs were carved into their bodies."

"It was done with intention then?" Maxwell turned back to me, eyes clear with such passion it was dizzying.

"Quite clearly, yes. It would take a lot of intent to carve such horrible things while they were alive."

Maxwell nodded, throwing a glance to the jury. Nearly alll of them were sitting forward in their seats, far too interested in what I was saying.