#28 - Sickness [Warning: Character death]
It did not take much to end a man's life.
There were the obvious and direct ways of course; a bullet to the head, or in this case any other part of the anatomy, could end a life with a single and simple tightening of the muscles in one's finger. But it was not always as straightforward and clear cut as that, or as easy to place the label of blame on.
The doctor viewing John Watson's body sighed as he considered this himself; in times like these, where was the time to check that it hadn't been an overdosed drug from his own carers, or an infection from his housing, that had ended him, and not the bullet that would be blamed nonetheless?
As he turned away he supposed it didn't matter much right now- no matter the answer, the man was dead, just like so many others, and life would go on. As would war, and the death that came with it, no matter where one was.
A/N: And yes, that line is far too symbolic for it's own good back in England. Did I mention I'm pretentious?
