Hello! I am so happy to present to you my first ever published fan fiction. I am head over heels in love with this pair and I hope that I can do them some justice in this story. I'm going to try to portray each character from different perspectives, in order to create a well-rounded story. Gosh, this is exciting :) There will be a higher rating in later chapters for many reasons. Homophobes, beware.

Warnings: Nothing that bad in this chapter other than slight angst. Also, message me and review, please! Share with your friends (if you like it). I would love to know that people actually read what I write.

Keep yourself updated with my tumblr: catchabatch . tumblr . com (without the spaces)

Thank you so much! With that, we're off!

Chapter One: The Arrival of the Words

Mrs. Hudson wiped her brow, eyes crinkling as she looked around at the abomination that was the flat above her. As much as she loved to take care of her Baker Street boys, they were certainly a handful. Slightly unbelieving of the mess that had managed to evolve over the course of two days, the woman shook her head as she reached to straighten the piles of paperwork that Sherlock had neglected to complete. She often wondered how Sherlock could put all of this off without being nicked from the police force.

'That Lestrade is a very patient man.' The landlady smiled to herself, thinking fondly of the familiar Detective Inspector. 'What would Sherlock have done without him, over these past few years? And if John had never shown up…' she abruptly drew out of her reverie. A life without John was simply impossible to imagine. He was the glue that held them all together.

The doorbell rang, signaling that the mail had arrived. Mrs. Hudson looked carefully around and began to tread back through the danger zone of Sherlock's (and John's, she reminded herself) flat. She cleaned as she went, taking some time to try and wipe the remnants of some unknown liquid off of the wall. Frowning, she scrubbed harder. 'What in the world has Sherlock done to my paper-'

Again, the shrill twang of the doorbell resounded through the multi-story flat. Pausing, Mrs. Hudson realized that it must be someone at the door. 'How strange.' she mused. Mrs. Hudson very rarely got company unless a family emergency had taken place and Sherlock had recently arranged for his clients to go through Lestrade, making 221B Baker Street a very quiet place.

'DING-DONG!'

Well, at least, it had been.

"Hello! Is Dr. John Hamish Watson present?" The male voice was muffled by the door, though still crisp enough to be understood. "Urgent news for-"

"Dr. John Watson, yes, I heard you." The slightly rumpled boy -and he was only that in her eyes, a boy of no more than seventeen- withdrew slightly, straightening his stance in an attempt to look calmer than he actually was. Mrs. Hudson could tell immediately that this was not a casual visit.

"What is it, Mr…?"

"Cadet Adrian Maxim of the Sixth division of the Baskeville squadron, ma'am. I have been sent to deliver this letter to Dr. John Hamish Watson of-"

"Yes, yes, I know his title." She eyed him curiously, reaching one hand over to rest on the doorframe. 'Why is he so nervous?' His jumpy composure perplexed her. Giving the soldier a once-over, she offered him her left hand, palm up, as she eyed the offending piece of mail. "I am John's landlady. I'll deliver it to him when he comes back. He's just gone out for some milk."

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I must insist to speak with Dr. Watson. It is…" He sighed as he visibly deflated, gaze falling to the ground. "a very sensitive matter. I was given a direct order to put this in the hand of Dr. John Watson."

"Then just give it to me, mate." The sound of John's baritone voice seemed to shock the cadet back into his previous state of unrest. He jerked around, hand flying to his forehead as he rattled off his list of titles, making John have to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"At ease, cadet." John gave him a loosely constructed smile, questioning him. "On what orders are you here? Did Mycroft send you with an invitation this time? That would be a step up from the usual abduction. None the less, I'm not coming." He sniffed, a grin lighting his features. "Sarah's sent me home from the surgery for vacation. I'm on strict orders to take a well-deserved kip and that is exactly what I intend to do." John grinned to himself as he stepped around the man in front of him. "Hello, Mrs. Hudson." He kissed her on the cheek, making her giggle and swat at his arm as he made his way inside the flat.

"Dr. Watson!" the cadet protested, although a bit weakly. The faintly desperate tone in his voice made an unconscious shiver run down John's spine. It was just enough to make him turn around, dread beginning to fill his gut. "I have a letter." He held it out, hand shaking ever-so-slightly.

John just stared bleakly, disbelieving, as he immediately recognized the reason for the boy's anxiety. The feeling was infectious.

"John?" Mrs. Hudson touched his shoulder, still not understanding the meaning of the whole situation. His face stayed perfectly blank as he stepped forward and slid the letter from the boy's trembling hand.

"Dismissed." John almost whispered. However, the unwavering finality in his voice was enough to make the young soldier start to choke up. Mrs. Hudson was still amid the unknowing, glancing hard between the doctor and the young cadet.

"Boys, what in the world has happened to make everyone act so strange? What is that, John?" Her wrinkled hand tried to tug the beige envelope from John's tight fist as she began to rationalize the discontent emanating from the delivery boy. "Oh please, John. By my age, you've realized that there's no shame in being old enough to retire. Think of it as the next adventure, dearie." She tried to catch his eye with her grin, but let it fall from her face when he seemed to ignore her efforts. "Why are you being so difficult?" He closed his eyes tightly for a moment before handing the letter to Mrs. Hudson. She scoffed slightly, giving him another look before reading the front of the envelope.

Hot tears began to prick behind her eyelids. Mrs. Hudson tore viciously at the parchment before prying the letter from its home with tender fingers, hoping against hope that she was wrong. She had to be wrong. Mrs. Hudson took a quivering breath as she stopped momentarily before allowing herself to read the top line of the letter aloud.

"In Address of Doctor John Hamish Watson, Field Surgeon, your military service is presently active. You are to report to the nearest drafting division and present yourself to duty-" she stopped, feeling her heart rate soar and stop in rapid succession. Her brown eyes flashed from the paper to John's face, light glinting off of the moisture that had accumulated there.

The dread was palpable in the tiny hallway, slicking itself like dirty oil over every surface, tarnishing every groove of their lives in a mere instant- inescapable.

The resounding tear of paper was almost too much for John. He allowed himself a momentary respite as he sank against the wall, listening with ringing ears as the letter was shoved haphazardly back into the envelope.

The first tear fell on the long sleeve of her sky-colored dress, seeping into the knit fabric to create a dark navy circle.

The second rolled down her right cheek as she read and re-read the letter in her mind's eye, shaking her head, looking for the mistake she was certain that she had missed.

"John, you've already done so much- your shoulder!" she protested angrily, crossing the small space between them as she took John in her arms. "They can't make you go! You've lost so much already! So much...they can't take you..." the tremor in her voice was enough to break John's heart, his chest suddenly feeling like a gaping hole. He kept his breathing controlled as he secured the small woman in his arms as she softly hit the wall behind them. "It's not fair. Not fair..."

The other tears were caught by John's thumb as he tilted her head up to meet his gaze, "No time for that, now. You've got to be brave." He pulled her into his side as he moved to shut the door, letting her cling to him, a silent sob wracking her frail body. "We've got to be brave." His words tasted bitter, tainted, forgotten in his mouth for a moment as he took a shuddering breath. "For him."