*And still I own nothing…enjoy xD*
"You were fired?" Asked an incredulous Mrs. Hudson unto a pacing John Watson, carefully she set down the tea platter and went to stop him mid-pace.
"Yes Mrs. Hudson I was fired." He huffed repeatedly rubbing his face in his palms; honestly he really wasn't too troubled. It was a minor inconvenience as Sherlock would've said, and 'terribly dull.' Mrs. Hudson gasped worriedly.
"Oh no John…why?" He just sighed.
"You know…it doesn't even matter, just a…minor disagreement with a customer." He put his hands on his hips and looked at the ground in a way that signified that he was deciding to just "pass it off," because that's all he can do. Nothing was really important, his mind was distorted and his eyes burned from this new… "take" on life. The crowd…it really is so dull.
"Oh!" She clamped her hands over her mouth.
"—Really Mrs. Hudson…it was a real boring job, the strict routine…all the same people, same crowd…it was driving me mad. Good thing I was cut off before I stabbed my own eyes out with a spoon." He said trying to make light (although he was dead serious), because she was honestly being too much like a mom whose child had been dropped out of school…but without the anger.
"If you say so dear," she went to fix him a cup of tea, "I knew you wouldn't last long there anyway…" now it was her moment of light-hearted truth.
"Excuse me?" He turned suddenly to her, who became very fixated on the tea.
"Well you know…" She motioned her head toward him as though he had a clue what anyone ever meant.
"What? I know what?!" Poor old John, always in the dark…she smiled as she served him his tea.
"Well serving tea to the 'common folk' is a little bit of a scene change you know…" She sat down knowingly, awaiting a little "talk."
"Yeah…so?" He did his little hunch with his knuckles on his hips, and knew he after all was expected to sit down and listen.
"Really John?! Don't be daft! I've heard that you went through quite an adjustment going from Afghanistan to Civilian life…don't you think it's the same going from Holmes's Sidekick to Tea Waiter?" John was silent as he sat down biting his lip, willing himself to listen as Mrs. Hudson continued. "My point is John…you're selling yourself short. You had this whole rediscovery of yourself with Sherlock, then he…he falls and suddenly you're 'nothing' again?! NO! John, snap out of it. I'm not your mother, but after all we've been through, it's hard not to feel maternally towards you and…and Sherlock. He believed in you, and I believe in him. He wouldn't let any old dunce to be in his company, he saw something in you and you need to pick yourself up and put yourself out there again. John. Wake up!" Something inside him did perk a lazy ear forward. Mrs. Hudson…oblivious one moment, and having heart-to-heart discussions the next, making him poke his head out of the smoke.
"So…what do you want me to do?" He asked sincerely, attempting to open himself to an attempt. She rolled her eyes.
"I don't want you to do anything; I want you to find something that makes you feel worthwhile. We all need a way to cope, and drowning out your mind with…with monotony is a really bad drug to be on." She reached out a hand to his knee and looked at him warmly. She stood up silently and kissed him on the top of the head. "I really care for you John, dear…so don't waste your life, you've only got one and it gets better." She left, leaving John in a thoughtful silence. He got what she was saying, and the idea of getting up and actually doing something made his heart heavy.
However, the idea of letting himself rot here while living really didn't fancy him, so he thought. Sherlock would really disapprove of him settling with "monotony," of course…how can he ever see things in the same light he had once known now that the source was gone…shattered into pavement and buried six feet under.
…..
"So you're doing this again?" Lestrade raised his eyes from the resume, and analyzed John, who was sitting calmly with his hands neatly folded and his chin slightly up and forward. He could still though, more or less sense the feeling that trailed behind him like a wisp of smoke. You only see the wisp, Watson is a soldier and he doesn't let his guard down, even though he was asphyxiating internally from the smoke and mirrors of his mind…but that was a more preferable place than his heart. There's nothing there, just a bolted off void with a dummy one around it to make him remember how to seem human.
If he didn't let himself be lost in his smoke, and driven insane by the mirrors that distorted his memories to shards that cut…he'd be swallowed by the void, and no one could pull him out. Maybe he can further distract himself though…he needed a detective, someone to make a shadow next to him where there wasn't even a considerate ghost…just smoke and mirrors.
"Yes. I'm very sure." John affirmed. Lestrade shifted in his seat…and his thoughts.
"You know John…I know how close you two were and this—well this seems a bit like a rebound if you get what I mean…" He absently twirled his pen on his desk as though words were spaghetti that he needed to carefully twist around the fork.
"No… I just figured I'd make myself useful," he added a chinky smile for good measure; Lestrade breathed out heavily through his nose, and uncapped his pen. Lestrade actually had a lot of thoughts on John being here, and an awkward feeling that he could have made things very different. John wouldn't be here in this pathetic looking position trying to fill a hole, and the professional and human part of him were going at it. 'Let John try,' 'No, he doesn't have the right background…unprofessional,' and he was being very unprofessional to allow the past to manipulate his decisions.
"Alright then." He said louder than necessary…he decided to let this go, it really wasn't his business…and there was guilt involved too. He wasn't innocent in the poor man's heartbreak, though he Lestrade had faith in Sherlock, in his mind he still let him down. Even for a man as stone-faced as Sherlock had been, no one could take the pressure of everyone turning against him, even if he was a fake. With a sigh he signed something and handed it to John. "I'm doing this as a regretful friend John, not as a professional…I know it's been hard after…that…but I can't just let you waltz into any position here, so I'm giving you a trial run, which I've never done but right now the 'professional' in me isn't working so I'll compromise."
"Thanks sir…" John gulped, about sick of all the sympathetic speeches, but he guessed he had it coming. Later he'll beat himself up for being the "special case" that everyone makes exceptions for, but now he decided that he should be grateful for a chance at normal again, and not being left to his own devices in his own mind. He took the formal looking paper and with a respectful nod they parted ways.
*Done with Chapter 3, which was probably less interesting or good than it was filler, but I can't exactly get to the good stuff without the "before" stuff can I? Reviews are appreciated. Love ya'! 3*