Steady

"Wasted."

That was the term he had overheard by accident while recuperating in that army base – no condolences, no falsely soothing words (which he later received in spades), just the flat out truth.

Wasted.

Wasted skills, talents, all ruined by one bullet that didn't have the consideration to miss. Leaving him unfit for anything. Groundless. Out of the war.

He took those words with him back to London. The tremor in his hand was blamed on stress – he didn't bother thinking it through. He had enough problems with the limp.

Then Mycroft Holmes pulled him off the street, and in a few well-said sentences set it straight. "She's got it the wrong way around. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady..."

The catalyst, however, was his quiet, almost personal comment that followed soon after. Mycroft likely never knew just what he had set in motion with his words: "You're not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson. You miss it.

"Welcome back."