SHERLOCK - PINK, WRITTEN BY DR J WATSON

AN: Hey, everybody. I am Corey YoungBlood and I have decided to write a Sherlock fanFiction, even when I am currently in the middle of writing a Merlin one. I thought, on the off-chance, and since I have been watching 'A study in Pink' on my box set I got for Christmas, I got into the mood to rewrite the episode the way I enjoy the most. By writing one of the mains as a girl. Not as is a romance, at least not yet. I know that changing a character from one gender to the other can be like marmite, but truth be, you don't have to read if you don't like that sort of thing. Please review to this prologue and tell me what you think. And I also apologise for any mistakes I might have made with spelling or grammar. Enjoy. This is just a picture painter really :)

BTW: Disclaimer - I do not own Sherlock or the characters except my own. Thank you.

...~~PWBDJW~~...

The noise was deafening. Guns went off everywhere. Manic shouts from men surrounded all around but almost invisible against the desert background. Loud sounds and fast movements disorientated the senses. The young woman on her second tour did not expect it to become her last. Flashing scenes of soldiers doing their duty literally exploded before her eyes. Kicking down doors, shooting into fields at the unseen enemy, hiding behind walls and crouching in long grass, yelling orders. Mudded faces and camouflage, padded chests, helmets that hugged the head too tight, firearm at the ready. All of it changed nothing.

Pain. So much pain. Someone shouting her name. Shapes rushing around her blurred vision. The sound of gunfire still going on. Something was very wrong. A flash of white of the final explosion filled the young woman's ears... and woke her with a start.

Joann shot up in bed in a sweat. The echoes of the last sounds heard from her dream fading out eerily in her head as she stared blankly ahead with washy blue eyes, focusing on getting her breathing under control. When it had evened out, she flopped back down on her pillow, one hand tightly clamped the material of her thick grey sweatshirt, and the other ran through her short-bob sandy blonde hair. As the memories of the dream came back to her, she screwed her eyes shut, whimpering.

She should have been used to it by now, she thought. She wasn't even near the action and yet in her head it was like it had followed her back to London. It all seemed like such a good thing a couple of years ago. Now look where it has got her. Waking up to screams and bombs going off every night, hasn't had a good sleep for as long as she could remember, a scar that will remain for as long as she lived, and a painful throbbing in her leg that gave her a bad limp that shouldn't even exist. And to add to it all, in the few years she had been away, despite still young, it had become very hard for Joann to get accustomed to life outside of what she should be glad to be discharged from. But it was too much to take sometimes.

Unable to get back to sleep, even if she wanted to, Joann Watson sat still on the edge of her bed in the near empty, dull, dark, depressing room in silence. Just thinking. About her past. Her future, The now. Her cane leant casually against the desk across the floor from her. Mocking her. No one could help. Not even a stupid blog... her blog. Bloody thing!

Few hours later, the sun was up. Joan walked over to the desk in her dressing gown, with her cane, cup of tea and breakfast (An apple. Appetite had been effected too), and sat down. She opened the drawer of the creaky old desk and fished her laptop out, plonking it down in front her. Underneath where the laptop had been, was a handgun. It wasn't until she lifted up the screen to reveal the blog page that she hesitated. 'The Personal Blog of Dr Joann H Watson'.

Nothing. What to type? What was there to type?

...~~PWBDJW~~...

"How is your blog going?"

In another dull lifeless room that same day, Joann tensely sat across from the woman who was supposed to help her. Yet it has all been pointless so far. The only think that needed to be bashed out her head was the thought that her leg was unbearable to walk on without anything having hurt it. Like a therapist can understand what it's like to move through a big city and feel it's too big and too small, too quiet and too loud at the same time.

"Yeah, it's good. Very good, going well" she answered unconvincingly.

"You have not written a word on it, have you?"

"No... You just wrote 'still has trust issues'."

The therapist looked down at the notes on her lap. "-And you still read my writing upside down... You see what I mean?" There was a pause. Joann did not really feel like talking today, or ever. "Joan... You're a soldier. It's obviously going to take you a while to adjust to civilian life, and writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you greatly."

Dr Joann Watson smiled at this, almost scoffing inside at the notion. Since she had come home, she had literally stayed at home. Except to go for walks to exercise the leg or go to the shops. Nothing appealed to her anymore, and people avoided her because she wanted to avoid them. She merely existed, passing through the busy streets like a ghost. Money was a problem too and who would hire her with what she had to offer. Not much. The chances of her life getting interesting were slim to none. Joann slowly reached up and tucked a little tuft of hair behind her ear, and made strong eye contact with the woman sitting opposite.

"'Everything that happens'?... Nothing happens to me."

Fate? Step in when you're ready...

...~~PWBDJW~~...

AN: Thank you for reading, hoped you liked it. I know there isn't much happening yet, after all, it is like the start of it all so it's just warming up. Please tell me what you think, and if I get enough reviews, I will carry on. Thanks again and have a good day (or night) :)