So, I don't like it when people write a bunch before their stories, but I just need to say a quick thing. This is my first Sherlock fic and the first time I've written in years. After watching season 4 last night, I thought I wanted to go for it again, so please go easy on me! Anyways, this maybe might have some JohnLock in it, so if you don't like that, this might not be for you. Oh! And JOHN DIDN'T HAVE A KID. He has zero kids in this story... Now go have fun ripping me a new one after you read this!


Gunshots ripped through the air, scattering the soldiers and forcing them to take cover behind anything they could. Falling, one by one, the thick aroma of blood began wafting through the open space and filling John's nostrils. He looked around frantically, looking for the comfort of any lively eyes searching him out, a familiar face not drained of all life. How could this happen? Everyone of them, dead. The ground was stained red and the sound of guns firing seemed endless.

Just more than a minute was all it took for the people he was in charge of, the men he laughed with, formed bonds with, and the men he called friends to die. The enemy soon cleared the area, but John still couldn't move. These men, his make-shift family scattered around him. Lifeless bodies in pools of blood that once held the souls of his closest friends. But now, they were just empty piles of flesh and bone. John sat there, staring at his fellow soldiers dead eyes, willing them to look up at him. But they didn't. They were dead. Just once more, one more time John wanted to hear their voices saying,...

"Wake up John! I've solved it!"

John woke with a start, sitting straight up out of bed, covered with sweat. The only sound to accompany him was the slamming of the door as Sherlock pranced out of his room, telling him to get dressed. He hadn't had that dream for awhile, or nightmare he should say. That was a time he longed to forget, to redo, so why was his subconscious bringing these memories back to him? Bringing the heel of his hands to his eyes, he tried to rub out his tiredness from the restless night, knowing there was a criminal to be put to justice.

While not ignoring, but pushing aside that morning's events, John began to slowly swing his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself up to get ready for the days outlandish antics. The second he put an ounce of weight on his leg however, he immediately bent down to grab at his pajama pant leg. A quick sharp but numb pain shot up his leg, causing John to take just an extra moment before shaking his head and taking his first step to his closet. It wasn't often, but he did rarely get a small reminder of the days of walking with a cane, usually when his mind wandered into taboo subjects such as his nightmare that very morning.

Now working past his tiredness and familiar emotions that he once thought he'd moved past, he continued getting himself dressed. He has long since figured out that when he went out with his partner in crime, he wasn't ever the focus of anyone's attention, so he never really dressed to impress as he used to. Instead, John groggily finished dressing himself and knew just what to do to try and snap him out of his depressed stupor. His almost ritual morning cuppa.

Making his way through his bedroom, John quickly noticed something upon opening his door that was slammed just minutes ago by the very reason he was awake. It was quiet. One glance of the flat and John had no doubts that he was alone.

"What was the point in waking me if he was just going to leave without me anyways?" John snapped to no one in particular. Realising how odd it is to grumble to yourself in an empty room about your sociopathic flatmate, John just sighed and as usual, let reasoning take over and put his emotions at bay. After putting the kettle on, John found himself with nothing to do. Leaning his hands on the counter, he ducked his head and closed his eyes, allowing previously restricted thoughts to run through his head as he had finally a moment to dwell on them.

Ever since the whole Eurus debacle two months ago, a lot has changed. John had finally had time to healthily reflect on Mary. She was dead. That time, fighting against Sherlock and blaming him for something Mary chose to do, it was one that he regretted to his core. Sherlock, despite his exterior and most people's assumptions on his demeanor, was a good man. He promised to protect them, himself and Mary, but that was an unfair thing of him to say. Sherlock was in no way responsible of their well being, and had no right to just assume the protector role. No one can promise that nothing bad will happen to you, the future in unpredictable. Sherlock should have never put that weight of responsibility on himself.

Of course, Sherlock isn't like anyone he has ever met, and he most certainly doesn't function or feel as a 'normal' person would. Sherlock was only meaning the best by what he said, John knew that. But that didn't mean that it didn't sting when Sherlock failed to live up to his promise. The second he saw Mary drop, and saw her eyes close for the last time, his mind kept repeating that promise that was made. Sherlock promised. Sherlock, the man who can solve any case, know what you got for your 16th birthday by your shoes, the man who outsmarted Mori-bloody-arty couldn't even save his wife from a bullet. He promised. Johns brain was so overwhelmed with hurt, sorrow, frustration, anger, and crushing helplessness, he needed an outlet. Sherlock just happened to be there.

Looking back, it was a terrible thing to do to your best friend who was also grieving, despite not even understanding what he felt. He felt awful about it, but he never had the chance to apologize, After Sherlock almost died from an overdose, and then by that serial killer, it was one after another as after that it was Eurus. Finally, John thought he could apologize, but here comes another thing that changed. He hardly ever saw Sherlock anymore. After Eurus was taken care of, Sherlock took case after case, hardly eating or sleeping, let alone leaving any time for John to talk with him. Yes, it was never rare for Sherlock to keep the cases flowing, but never like this. There was hardly a minute between cases, John wasn't even sure if Sherlock had slept or even showered at all in months…

Along with his newfound realization about Mary and free time away from Sherlock, he actually acquired a real job. Well, kind of. Since Sherlock's barrage of cases, he's basically left John in the dust,that morning being one of many examples. John had been offered a job at the local hospital, but he had immediately declined. Yes, he loved the feeling of saving people, of helping people, but he couldn't help but to be reminded of his time in the war every time he even looked at a hospital. Not only that, but he loved the thrill of living on the edge of death that Sherlock had given him, He couldn't help but to cling to the hope that Sherlock would ask for his help, would go back to talking to John instead of that blasted skull, that he would be included again. He missed feeling important to Sherlock, he just wished that Sherlock needed him and-

The high pitched noise of the kettle whistling jolted John out of his thoughts as he lifted himself and prepared himself his morning tea. Sitting down in his chair, the one he had earned and the one where he sat next to his best friend in so many times before. Settling in, now with his hot cup of tea, his thoughts slowly drifted back.

What had caused that train of thought? It made him sound almost jealous, almost wanting that life back. He had finally gotten a 'get out of the crazy for free' card, and he was going to use it! Retracing his thoughts a bit, he had a sort of job. After declining the hospitals offer, a few days went by when he was called. A life or death surgery, no doctors on hand capable enough, no time to be sent to a more experienced doctor at another, better hospital. They called Doctor John Watson as a final and last resort to save this girl's life. So he did. Since then, he gets the occasional call when they need someone, and he can't say that's a bad thing. After how he's felt lately, it feels good to be able to do something again. So while he doesn't work there, he gets paid to help out once in awhile.

The recognition isn't bad either. All those times working with Sherlock, he never got any attention, it wasn't even noticed that it was his blog for god's sake! But now, he got the headline in newspapers. "War Doctor Saves Lives Once More". It wasn't bad to finally get a little credit where he could. Especially now. After everything that had happened, ever since he met Sherlock, it was nice to finally have some calm, some normalcy…

Oh, who was he kidding? He couldn't even convince himself that was true. He lived for the danger, the excitement, the near death, and he wanted it back. It look some soul searching after Mary died to ever want that. He didn't want that to happened to anyone else he loved. But he knew that he couldn't live like a normal person again, not after the years after he met Sherlock. He wanted to be needed again! To not be ignored!

But John supposed that wasn't in the cards. He would have to integrate himself back into the normal world because he didn't have a choice. Sherlock had moved past him, didn't want or need him anymore for whatever reason. He supposed he was never really much help to Sherlock to begin with. Well, that's just how it is then. Back to the calm, normal life.

That's when light, but noticeable footsteps were heard from outside the door, approaching, but nothing else. Until a light shuffling could be heard, causing John to focus his attention to the small yellow envelope being pushed under the door. Military instinct kicking in, John shot up and ripped open the door, only to find a deserted stairwell. Seeing no presence of anyone, John felt his heartbeat quicken as he slammed the door shut and bent down to retrieve the envelope. Carefully, he opened the package and took out the black disc inside. It wasn't the contents of the package, but the lettering on them that made his heart drop and his stomach turn.

"Miss me yet?"