Title: Sacrificial
Author name: DocJorgensen
Category: Angst, Friendship
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson
Ships: None
Rating: K
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Holmes thinks about Watson and how damn terrified he is.
DISCLAIMER: Alas, I own nothing.
Author Notes: I'm getting a bit stunted on this series, but I will continue to update periodically. I really wasn't listening to Cher when I was writing this either. Enjoy.
Dedication: To Mr. Splengler, for a very entertaining weekend.
"Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."
...Gospel of St. John 15:13
Sometimes I have to scrutinize Watson carefully.
Sometimes I fear him. Or rather, I fear what he will do.
Oh I have no doubt of justness; the man could not be a more upright and good-standing citizen if he consciously tried.
No, Watson terrifies me.
He terrifies me in that I know that he places no value on his own life.
Self-sacrifice is one of his greatest and purest traits. Yet, this trait in particular is the one which gives me the greatest pause.
I know, indubitably, that a man of Watson's caliber is irreplaceable. A truer man, a fairer judge, a wiser soul I have never met.
What use logic, and deduction without his knowledge of men's hearts? What use a sword, if it is not sharp or a revolver without bullet?
With this sentiment, even Mycroft agrees, and I tell you thus, if I and my elder brother should be in agreement about anything, it is either Watson, or the end of which John spoke is indeed here.
But there is another reason that Watson's self-sacrificial qualities make me quake.
I have some knowledge of my limits, the end and breadth of my finite capabilities.
I perceive them, and I perceive the truth.
Without Watson, my end would come swiftly.
I dread to think that it might even be by my own hand.
With grim certainty, I know that I am not strong enough.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
…Oscar Wilde, "The Ballad of Reading Gaol"