A/N: There is a very small passing mention of wartime gore (battlefield injuries) here, nothing too bad but I thought I'd leave a warning.
Sherlock can hear John crashing around in the kitchen, at first he tunes it out but once he finds he can't block it any longer he analyses the sounds and realises that John has been dumped by his new girlfriend, this is the second break up this month which is a new record for the doctor, excessive even for him.
"You know" John begins as he steps into the living area. Sherlock wonders if perhaps he has already been talking to him as he seems to be continuing on from something. "Before I went away and served, before all of this" he waves a hand around the room as though it encompasses everything about their lives together "I had a few serious relationships. A couple there even told me that they thought we might end up together. Women who wanted me in their lives, there everyday". He lowers his mug a little and by the way he is holding it Sherlock realises there is alcohol in there, not tea. "For a while there I was a real catch: young, physically fit, doctor or training to be one, their mothers loved me, courteous, charming. I was a regular guy who was good boyfriend material".
Sherlock watches carefully, head turned slightly and is being careful not to interrupt. He's sitting cross legged on the couch with his laptop resting on top. It is rare for John to expose himself so openly without any prompting and this is perfect material for Sherlock to store in the 'JW' room in his mind palace to dissect later. The man has obviously been drinking for a little while, most likely before he got home.
"Now look at me! I try to relate to people and that works right up until they realise army doctor means stitching up screaming men whose intestines are hanging out or they've just had a limb blown off. And if that doesn't bother them then usually actively chasing crime scenes does. Then the ones that actually understand exactly why I chose to enlist and why I do what I do with you end up leaving when they realise I'm prone to having to run off to help with a case or they find something else wrong with how I live my life!". He turns to the side in almost a military move, stiffly continues to think then turns back to his friend to clarify something. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I'm not look for pity. Just trying to understand what the hell is happening".
The detective lifts his pale hands from his keyboard and leans back in his seat. "It's understandable that an invalided war veteran would be having issues settling back into civilian life. But that's not what is happing here"
John pokes his tongue into his cheek as he thinks that through. "It isn't?"
"No" Sherlock finishes typing a sentence that he had been writing earlier then looks up. "The women you seem to want to associate with are all idiots".
John purses his lips and waits for further explanation but when none is forthcoming he speaks up. "That's your take on the situation? Woman are idiots?"
"The ones you seem to want to 'get off with' are. If they choose to look at your occupation above who you are as a person and then judge you on that instead then there is only one category for them". When John just frowns, Sherlock sighs in agitation, sits straighter and begins to list things out logically as he does when explaining the facts of a case. "You said you used to be young, fit, a doctor, liked by mothers, courteous and charming. John, you are still all of those things but you feel as though you can't be anymore after all that you've seen and that if you are being left by these women that you must be lacking these attributes. Their stupidity is affecting your understanding of the data presented" he turns his head to the side and adds "although you will find youth less and less in your favour. Perhaps put that one further down the list". John actually smirks at that one. "Perhaps if you stop trying to explain the actions of the inexplicably ignorant you will find that you're all that you need to be already. Or something like that" at this he waves a dismissive hand "I'm not one for motivational talks, I'm just stating the facts".
The blond nods slowly as he gazes towards the kitchen then finishes off the amber liquid he'd been nursing as they spoke. "I just don't know where I'll find someone who wants to be with me not just when we go out places, who can put up with me getting frustrated at various things, who keeps me interested and let me tell you that's a hard one these days. Someone who I can feel as though I'm looking after and protecting and someone that I can talk to about anything and just be comfortable with ourselves even in silence. I'm telling you, Sherlock, it's practically impossible to find". At this he puts his mug in the kitchen and announces that he is meeting up with Mike or Greg for a pint, whichever wants to come.
Sherlock stays on the couch, thoughts racing. His eyes are wide and flick around lightly as he thinks through what was just said. "Yes" he replies although no one is there. "Yes it is".
A/N: I'd just like to take a moment to thank everyone who has been reviewing, favouriting and subscribing to this story. Your support means a lot :)
I tried using the present tense this chapter, hopefully it makes a difference as it is something different for my writing, feedback would be useful in this case.