Chapter 1: The bored soldier

Life is boring, nothing ever happened to him, nothing ever will. John Watson was a soldier and a doctor. But now all that remained was being a doctor in an A&E in the next hospital, all because of a bullet. That something so small could cause so much damage. Not only to the body, but to a soul and a future. It changed John Watson's life and right now he thinks it was only to the worst possible way. A life alone, in a city which offered nothing to entertain him, anything enough to stop his hands from shacking. John Watson is a doctor, a really good one in his opinion, but he worked best under pressure. Like treating wounded soldiers during a bullet storm for example. Here in London he doesn't have to fear his enemy or that his companions will die in a sandy dessert without a chance to say goodbye to their loved ones.

John Watson has nightmares. He knows why but still there is nothing what stops them from waking him in the middle of the night. Like an hour ago. All what he can do is get up, get dressed and walk a few hours to stop the crushing feeling on his lungs of not having enough oxygen. He takes slow and deep breaths while walking next to the Thames. The one thing he likes about London is this river. It's around four in the morning and nobody is walking, nothing can be heard. Except a few cars on the road above him when he walks under a bridge. Nothing unusual, everything is like always, boring. A sleeping city.

"Stop" a man's lightens the darkness like a flash through the silent night. His soldier mode gets active and John Watson was on the move. He locates a man under the bridge only a few meters away. He could see two other mean, a skinny one very close to the first man and a second one must be the one who had shouted. "Stop, police, stop running" the police officer shouted, but John Watson could hear his breathless voice nearly breaking at the end, not a good runner. The skinny one was on the first man and was tackling him. But the first one wasn't skinny, light or small. It was a tall man with a lot of muscle and he didn't move when both men came in contact, he just hit the head of his attacker. The skinny one was a little bit unsteady on his feet after the fist had hit him. The first one took advantage of this moment and gripped him around his neck pointing a knife on his skin. The police officer stopped, draws his gun and aiming at the first one.

After that everything happened very quickly, the skinny one duck to the side of the river, the police officer shot and hit the first one in his left shoulder. The impact pushed the skinny one against the rail and, not able to keep his balance, he fell down into the dark and cold Thames below him.

John Watson was practically already in the water with his shoes of as the man hit the surface and started to sink. The bridge wasn't too high but definitely more the 15 meters, which was enough to knock a man out. Even if he had not been hit on the head just a few seconds before that. John couldn't see much in the water but when he thought he was close to the man, he dived down and saw a bit of white skin two or three meters under him illuminated by the light of the city. With his arms around the man's really skinny chest John Watson burst through the surface and let the air run through his lungs again. It was a good thing the man was so light or it would have been harder to swim to the water side. As he reached the bank and got the man on solid land his soldier mode switched off and the doctor mode was on. With cold fingers he touched the man's neck to find a pulse, but there was none. He must have stopped breathing as he sunk down. John Watson immediately resuscitation procedures. Strong hands pushed down on the man's chest, again and again. There was no reaction. Next he leaned over the man ready to start mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Suddenly the skinny man's eyes opened. Bright grey eyes met his own. They were very close but it wasn't uncomfortable. The skinny one observed him just for a few seconds with a relaxed look on his face, than he turned to his side and with a bit of help from John the man could cough up some of the river water. Not a word was spoken till the police officer came close enough to be heard. "Sherlock are you ok?" he spoke with fear in his voice. It was more than fear; it was horror at thought of losing him. The man who was now lying on his side had to be someone special for the police officer who was now kneeling beside him. He first made sure that he was breathing than looked at John. "Thank you for saving this idiot." with relief in his eyes he turned back to the man and started shouting at him angrily. "How often do I have to tell to wait for me, you can't go off on your own, you are not an official part of the Yard, in the end you will get hurt or worse you will be my next case. Sherlock talk to me. Do you understand that it is dangerous to go off on your own?" The man called Sherlock opened his eyes or better rolled his eyes at the police officer 's comment. "Please Lestrade, shut up, I'm fine. Nothing happened." Sherlock mumbled and started pushing himself up from the ground, now sitting on his knees. "I would call a heart stopping and lungs not breathing a bit not good." John remarked sarcastically. Sherlock moved his head and watched the doctor close. Without help or throwing another look back at the doctor he stood up and walked back to the bridge. "Never mind him, he is always like this, I have never heard a 'thank you' from him. But I'm glad you were here. I would probably have been too late." Lestrade excused his companion. "Do you need a ride home?" he offered and after a head shake from John he followed him back to the suspect.

John stood up, got his shoes back on and started walking home. After a few meters he stopped and looked down at his hands. The constant shaking had stopped. He could still feel the adrenalin flowing through his body and had a picture of the bright grey eyes of the man named Sherlock in his mind. Maybe there was a bit of action in this city, maybe sometimes. And with a smile on his face he knew this time he would sleep well.