"Sherlock!" John awoke from his sleep. His nightmares were getting worse again. It was always the same one: the day his best friend had died.
John Watson was back in Afghanistan, for civilian life would not go well for him again. He had though that he was settled; a job, a secure place to live, and friends who he liked. But then Sherlock was gone, and John felt as though London was not home for him anymore. Before he left, he travelled to see Harry and explained to her why he was leaving. She was upset, of course, but accepted that it was his decision, and wished him well. Mrs Hudson was slightly harder for him to talk to, for she cared for him, trying to make him feel better, and also had been letting him remain at Baker Street.
He called her over for tea, and told her how he wanted to return to the Arm; how London didn't feel right for him; how he longed for the action again. For days, she smiled weaker when she saw him, spoke to him less, in a different voice, seeing if she could subtly get him to change his mind.
John went to army recruitment days, and spoke to old friends about re-joining, and where they were all serving. They asked him questions too, mainly about his civilian life, and why he was returning, and his answers were usually vague: Life is well, but he feels as though he needs something more to do. He rarely would hang around for long, preferring to return home to Baker Street, where he lived alone.
Training began again, starting off by increasing the lengths of his daily walks, then basic gym, ever increasing the work. He started feeling better about himself, as though he finally had a purpose. His official army training would begin soon, and wanted to be as prepared as possible. 'Two months until I get to leave' he would repeat in his head, encouraging himself on.
When it came to his departure, only close friends were the main priority to say goodbye to, Mrs Hudson, Molly and Lestrade saw him off. Goodbyes were brief, John not wanting to become too guilty for leaving. He wished them well, then boarded his flight to Afghanistan, choosing a window seat so he could see London one last time: for he was not planning on coming back