"Look, John..." Lestrade started as the two made their way back into the flat after a rather lengthy visit to the hospital. John had been found unconscious on the living room floor by Mrs. Hudson and he was surrounded by a pool of his own sick. In her panic, she called the ambulance and Detective Inspector Lestrade, unsure if this was an accident or something a bit more...intentional.
You see, John Hamish Watson had just lost his best friend Sherlock Holmes. He'd taken his own life by jumping from the top of the St. Bart's Hospital and John was there to witness it all. He even spoke to him on the phone as it happened. It had been about two months since the...incident and John went from inconsolable to emotionally vacant. If you ever spotted him out of the flat, it was a rare enough sight, but no one had seen even a glimmer of a smile on the army doctor's face since. They all, they being Molly, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and even Mycroft Holmes, became exceedingly worried about what steps John may take next, as none of the ones he was taking were moving him forward.
Mrs. Hudson would hear him pacing around in the middle of the night, sometimes muttering deeply to himself, other times throwing things in fits of rage. She'd been up several times to check up on him, but it always ended up the same. He would politely decline the offer of any company and silently close the door, once again closing himself off from the outside world. After a while, everyone had decided that it would be for the best if they gave him a bit of space, but apparently that wasn't the best decision at all.
"...I know you're hurting," the lawman continued, not getting any response from the other person in the room. "...but you know he wouldn't want you to be like this."
John then whirled around faster than he meant to almost losing his balance. "And I didn't want him to throw himself off that bloody building!" he yelled. "How am I supposed to deal with this?! I can't...this is..."
Lestrade threw himself onto the now close to sobbing man. "You won't be alone, mate. You've got me, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, all of us will help you. Think of it as a lifeline. Something to give you give you the will to live on, yeah?" He slowly released Dr. Watson and slowly headed for the door.
"You call me if you need me," he instructed, knowing full well that the man in question would do no such thing. "and try to get something in your stomach. You are eating for two, now," he added and silently walked towards the door and closed it.
John just slumped to the floor and placed a hand on his stomach and began to stare at it. His eyes began to water and the only noise to come out of his mouth was the word: "Damn..."
