We Will Remember Them
Written on 11th November 2011, not completed until today.
8 'o' clock chimed loudly over the morning hush of London.
All was silent, it was if everyone was holding their breath, as if the whole city had been paused and as John woke from the light slumber he was being held in he sighed shakily, letting the air almost soak into his lungs, it felt like he was drowning, utterly and completely. It was only this day he ever felt it, glancing at his watch he swung his legs from the bed and rubbed his face will calloused hands. War. It was everywhere, everything he did and said and saw pointed in one direction. His past. His fears. War.
Realising he didn't actually take in the time when he'd glanced at his watch. 8 'o' clock, brilliant, it hadn't passed him by then. John mentally scorned himself for that thought; he didn't want to miss it, not really. He just didn't like the pain that time bought back, those few minutes of his life thinking back to war. He couldn't stand the idea of thinking of those he'd lost and tried to fight for someone's life, he feared if he did the PTSD would kick in, making all those months of hard work worthless.
"You're forgetting someone," a baritone spoke from behind him.
Of course Sherlock would be awake and disseminating his thoughts.
John smiled and turned back to his husband.
"I know, but it doesn't matter how many years will go by, just for those two minutes I'm always going to feel completely alone," John whispered
Sherlock nodded, not wanting to press John or make him paranoid he didn't speak, just wrapped his long arms around the other man and let him sit there, deliberating the day.
"I want to go to a ceremony," he whispered into the taller man's neck, he felt the man above nod in agreement.
"Anything for you,"
They make their way to the nearest ceremony, John and Sherlock shuffled in, they both sat as the prayers were said and people sang. Sherlock didn't realise until he looked to the side that John was crying, tears slipped down his face and Sherlock felt his heart deflate a little when he looked upon the man, he thought John could cry no more. Slowly he shuffled to one side and wrapped his arms around John's frame; Sherlock felt tremors shake his partner, he gently rocked them side to side.
"I am so useless, Sherlock, so useless being here, doing nothing, not helping them, they need me, Sherlock,"
Sherlock shook his head and continued his soothing movements.
"Never useless, you're here, with me, you're helping me now, even if you don't think it you are," Sherlock mentally berated himself for almost adding "I need you," but he didn't because he knew enough to know it would do no-one any good with him being selfish.
"Come on, I don't like seeing you like this. Let's go for a walk, buy a poppy each and some flowers, then we'll go to a monument and put them there, together, you did your time John, and you're an veteran now, you have done yourself proud, don't ever say you are useless," Sherlock said, gripping John's hand as they walked from the church, heading to the nearest shop.
And they did just that.
