John Watson (imnotgay) wrote in return_paradise, @ 2014-02-06 19:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: jack harkness, character: sherlock holmes, location: lawrence kansas |
Who: John Watson, Jack Harkness, and Sherlock
What: Drinking until he's too drunk to stand, and gets Retconned
Where: A bar in Lawrence
When: Backdated to Feb 1st
Rating: High for alcohol and language
Status: Closed
When Rose didn't text John back, his heart sunk and he decided to move on. He'd drink this pain away. All of these things he was being told were incredibly impossible, stressful, and just plain terrible. Mary- The woman he was supposed to be married to, with a child! Sherlock faked his death. That sounded like him, but at the same time, John imagined it was heart breaking. But he didn't understand how any of it was possible. Time travel just wasn't possible. It couldn't be! People would have been taking a huge advantage of it if it had been, right?
Shaking his head, John stormed into a bar and ordered a drink. Straight. He took the shot and ordered another. He was in no mood to deal with this information and sighed heavily as he continued to take shot after shot.
"It's going to take too bloody long to drink enough to forget." He said to himself quietly as the man next to him turned to look at him.
"Bad day?" Jack asked, blue eyes watching the other carefully. This was John Watson, the man Mycroft had talked about.
"Bad doesn't even begin to describe it." He started, ordering another shot.
"Beer, on me." Jack said, raising a finger. "You're going to get sick if you keep drinking at that pace." He warned as the bar tender slid a beer to Jack, who then slid it to John, dropping the retcon inside of it.
"Uh, thanks." John said, taking the beer politely and taking a drink.
"Jack Harkness." Jack said, sticking out a hand. John started at it for a moment before shaking. "I'm from London, too. Cardiff." Jack said with a smile.
"Really? You sound American." He retorted as he drank more of the beer.
"Yeah, well. American's can live in Cardiff, too." He finished with a soft chuckle.
"So, do all American's from Cardiff buy a London man drinks?" John asked as he continued to drink.
"Only the good looking ones." Jack replied with a wink. John was taken aback for a moment as he snorted into his beer.
"I'm not-" He started and Jack finished for him.
"Gay. I know." He said, ordering himself a water. "And you won't even remember that you met me." He finished as he took a drink, stood up, and promptly left.
John sat for a moment, staring at the empty beer glass in his hands before looking up to see the man had vanished. His heart started racing. He wouldn't remember him? What did that mean? Was he implying that he'd get so drunk he wouldn't remember the night? Or was there more? John started to panic as he stared at the glass and recounted the events that had just happened.
"I've been drugged." He whispered to himself as he stood up quickly and threw money on the counter. He made his way towards the door of the bar, starting to feel dizzy. Was that the shots or the drugs? He wasn't sure.
He pulled out his phone, and found Sherlock's number. As he made it outside, he leaned against a street lamp as he tried to think of what to say. The numbers danced back and forth in front of his eyes as he blinked rapidly trying to clear them.
"Sher-" He started, stumbling slightly. The cars that drove by were too bright, and John covered his face. For a moment, he thought maybe he'd die like this. Completely out of it, and he wouldn't have to worry ever again. Suddenly, a new wave of dizziness hit him, and he gripped the lamp tightly.
"Sherlock..." He managed, as he tried to steady his vision of the sidewalk in front of himself.