Scars of the Past
When John had told Sherlock that he had actually been shot in Afghanistan Sherlock thought that it must have been a small wound that had made some damage in John´s shoulder but not much according to John´s posture and his mobility. He did not think about it any more until he accidentally bumped into John who was on his way from the bathroom to his own room after a shower. He was only wearing a towel around his waist.
"Sherlock!" he said in surprise and partially covered himself behind the open door of his room.
"Oh...sorry John" Sherlock babbled and turned slightly around but could not stop himself from looking at the rough scar tissue that stood out on John´s white and shiny skin. It was bigger than he thought and he had to put much effort into holding himself back from examining it from a closer distance. Even from where he stood now he was able to see that the shot was not as non-fatal as he had thought. When John noticed that Sherlock was looking at the spot where his scar was hidden behind the wood of the door he took in a deep breath.
"You want to see it don´t you?" he asked still hiding himself behind the door only looking around it with his head.
"...and you won´t stop nagging until you had been able to examine it." he concluded. Sherlock put on an innocent smile but John knew he was right.
"God, damn it...fine, go ahead" he said and came out of his hiding place. Sherlock who knew how sensitive John was about his scar stepped in front of him and bend down to have a better look at the scar. He squinted his eyes a bit to sharpen his focus. The scar at least 4 by 4 cm big and only an inch above his clavicle. He was able to see the dots where the wound had been stitched together. It was the wound where the bullet must have left John´s body.
"Could you turn around, please?" he asked and John was surprised. It was not really Sherlock´s normal behaviour to ask for anything he wanted. He could have sworn that Sherlock´s voice even sounded pleading. He nodded and turned around. Now Sherlock took a look at the scar where the bullet had hit John in the first place. It was smaller than the other one but the tissue looked more uneven and went deep into the flesh. Sherlock lifted his right hand and touched the scar slightly. John flinched immediately and Sherlock took his hand away in the split of a second.
"Sorry" he said and stepped one step away from John.
"No it´s fine...it just startled me" John said turning around to face Sherlock.
"And what do you deduce about it?" he asked then.
"Well, according to the extent of the wound I suggest that you have been shot by a sniper with a big calibre while you were in the field. The angle points out that you must have been bending over something or someone. I assume that it was the latter. The wound had made some damage but that damage was expanded because you did move after you got hit. The movement ripped the wound open even further which explains the rather big damage on the skin itself. You were probably crouching over a wounded soldier when it happened and after you overcame the wave of pain directly after the shot you continued treating your patient instead of patching up yourself. That sounds like something you would do. The adrenaline helped you with the pain but it must have been really painful afterwards. Furthermore I deduce that the wound got infected because it had been reopened to clean the wound properly which you can see from the stitches. There are two lines of stitches . The first one is irregular and the person who did it had shaking hands which leads to the conclusion that it was made on the field and was just a makeshift. The second one was made by a professional." Sherlock had ended his deductions and looked up. Well...he didn´t really look up because his friend was smaller than him by at least one head but his focus wandered from the scar on John´s shoulder up to his eyes.
"Did I get it right?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, as always" John said with a faint smile. Then he turned around and was going to enter his room when he heard Sherlock behind him.
"Who was he?...I mean the soldier" he asked and John turned around once again surprised by Sherlock´s concern.
"Matthew Whiner. I didn´t know him very well. We played cards once or twice." he answered remembering the face and the Scottish accent.
"Did he make it?" Sherlock whispered but John heard him very clearly.
"Yes, he lives in Manchester now. He got married and has two kids." John smiled and entered his room. He really wanted to put on some clothes before talking to Sherlock again. It was rare that Sherlock was showing concern of any kind thou and it was feeling good to know that he did so in front of him.
Sherlock went back to the living room, not remembering what he wanted to do when he bumped into John before. He was happy to have a friend like John and after getting to know this detail about him he was even happier about it. John had made a big sacrifice in order to safe a life and must have been in horrible pain. He was also very strong and he never showed any sign of favouring his right shoulder despite the fact that a wound with this extent must at least ache from time to time, for example in cold and rainy weather.
He told himself to give John more credit in the future and to watch out for him as he certainly does for him.