Sherlock- Poor Watson JWWContains post Reichenbach spoilers and angst. Don't read if you haven't seen season 2 episode 3.More Like This
A John Watson's War fic
John had never really thought about blood, much. It pulsed through his veins. It carried oxygen through his body. It leaked out of bullet wounds to stain army camo. It flowed through black curls to run in to a puddle on pavement.
It dripped from his nose and lips and cheek.
He watched it drip almost artfully on his shirt. It was so red. So vibrant. That was what his mind registered as most important in that moment. Not the throbbing pain from his head. Not the fact that his nose was probably broken, or that his lip was split or even that he was probably in more danger than he had been since back when Sherlock was alive. It just registered the artful dripping of his blood onto his shirt.
Someone grabbed his hair at the crown of his head and dragged his head upwards. They examined him, determining if he was in the state to respond to them, and obviously found the