How are all of my wonderful fanfictioners? I miss chatting with most of you - seems responsibilities get in the way of everything, huh? Well, just wanted to say thanks for all the fabulous reviews, and apologize for not answering some of them. I do appreciate them all!
I hope everyone gets the spoilers clearly; I tried to make it obvious enough, but it seems that I'm one of the few who actually remembers shows/movies/books word-for-word and movement-for-movement, so if you don't, just let me know and I'll rewrite. Thanks!
Special thanks to grannysknitting for pointing out my error. I'm so thankful for reviewers who aren't afraid to help me learn!
Walk
Sherlock Holmes had known only one invalid before John Watson. His mother's brother, who had been disabled as a police officer and forced to retire early, was the most disagreeable man in the entirety of the Holmes family (which was quite a weighty designation, once one had met Mycroft Holmes, at least in Sherlock's opinion). Whether it was by conceit or self-pity, it was impossible to say, but the only words that the old grumbler ever spoke to Sherlock were those when he was demanding him to stop moving so infuriatingly quick, and show a bit of respect for disabled company! Sherlock Holmes hated being told what to do, and so he took no small delight in walking as swiftly as he pleased when in his invalided uncle's presence.
Perhaps it was for this reason that he did not so much as think of John's leg as he bounded up the staircase of Mrs. Hudson's second-story flat, leaving the slightly humiliated doctor limping after him as quickly as he dared. Sherlock had felt a bit foolish, and yet, for the thrill of a new, promising case, he once again entirely forgot about it as they approached the murder scene of the lady in pink.
The third time he found himself walking with John—toward Angelo's small restaurant and hopefully a glimpse of their killer—he intentionally did not slow his step, and was curiously fascinated when the ex-soldier determinedly kept up with his pace, despite the difficulty of his leg.
When they were halfway to Angelo's, Sherlock subtly slowed down and allowed John some respite, for though John's leg was obviously paining him a great deal by now, not once did the doctor let a word of complaint slip. Quite fascinating, actually.
Sherlock Holmes could not recall the last time he had walked even a fraction slower than usual, but the thing that really bothered him was the fact that he did not care a bit that he was inconveniencing himself for another.
All in all, perhaps John Watson would not be just another person in his life…perhaps John Watson was someone different.
Sherlock was not certain, but, after all, he had learned to patiently wait for the results of his experimentations. He would know soon enough.