John Watson wants to punch Sherlock in the face (blogaboutit) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2017-04-07 18:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, #npcs, *lena, *rachel, john watson |
John and Mary Watson
February 8th - Midday
Streets of Atlantis
PG 13 (Mentions of Death)
Complete |
Kidnapped. Again. It really was worrying how often that happened to the doctor. And, yet. It never ceased to surprise him. Especially this time. Usually, he had some sort of memory of it happening. Even if it was just being knocked unconscious. Or shot. But no. Apparently this time he was kidnapped by a bloody coin. Or, at least that’s what the hologram had said. And, in John’s experience, you couldn’t exactly trust the stories that your kidnappers told you. Especially when his last kidnapper was his best friend’s secret sister. Still, for once he was in a quite comfortable looking bedroom, and still had his firearm on him. Which when it came down to it, either meant they were really incompetent kidnappers. Or, maybe they didn’t have nefarious intentions towards him. Either way, he assumed that Sherlock had to be around here somewhere. Because he honestly didn’t see the point in kidnapping him, if you weren’t going to involve Sherlock Holmes in someway. And, no matter which way you looked at it. John needed Sherlock. And, Sherlock needed John. They weren’t quite complete without the other. Two sides of the same coin, if you will. Not trusting the security of this “network”, or anything else the tablet he had been provided was inclined to tell him, John quickly grabbed his coat, bundling his daughter up into hers, and strapping her to his chest before heading out the door. Deciding, that if he really was going to make any decision in regards to this so-called Atlantis. He needed to have a look around by himself first. See that it wasn’t just another trick by some other Holmes. Even if Mycroft did insist that there really weren’t any other secret siblings. Just Eurus. And, he supposed that Mycroft probably had learnt his lesson after that whole debacle. Still, as he headed down the high street, his eye caught something across the road. And, when I say something, I mean someone. Someone he never thought he’d see again. Not outside of those hallucinations he’d had of her, anyway. And, he really hoped that those hadn’t come back. He stopped suddenly, ignoring the mutterings of annoyance from behind him. “Mary?” Mary smiled as she turned toward the familiar voice of her husband. Having Molly here was lovely, but it would be a lie to claim she hadn’t been missing John and Rosie fiercely. As grateful as she was for the reprieve from certain death, she had desperately wanted her family to be here, too. She jogged across the street toward him, grateful for the lack of traffic. “Hello, husband,” she said, a wide smile still on her face. Suspecting he was shocked to see her for the same reason Molly had been, she reached out and touched his face. “It’s me, John. I’m really here.” John couldn’t help but goggle at her, as she crossed the road in front of him. He probably looked ridiculous, his mouth dropped open in shock. But, as soon as Mary touched him, he reached for her. Gently pulling her into his arms, mindful of the baby strapped to his chest. “You’re here? You’re really here?” He rested his forehead against hers, thoughts whirling in his head. “How?” “I’m really here,” she assured him. Her hand caressed his cheek as she kept her forehead against his. The how was harder to answer. She wasn’t sure she knew where to start. “Time travel, I suppose,” was the easy explanation. Her other hand strayed to their daughter’s head and she stood there with him, almost oblivious to the world around them, but she couldn’t quite forget they were standing in the street. “I’ve got a room in the hotel if you want to come back and.. talk,” she offered. John nodded, as he remembered where they were stood. “Talk, yes talking’s good.” And, he did notice the pause she’d said before talk. Knew she’d probably was insinuating something else. But, talking was definitely something they needed to do too. I missed you, was what he wanted to say. I strayed, was the other thought running through his head. I’m sorry. So many thoughts, and things he wanted to say, but wasn’t sure if he could. Instead, he pulled back slightly, and offered her his arm. “Lead the way, then. So we can...talk.” Mary had a lot to catch John up on and she nodded as she started to lead him toward the hotel. Molly had filled her in on a lot, more, probably, than John would have wanted her to know, but Mary had had a little time to fer used to everything she’d been told, to process it and come to terms with it. She supposed that would make it easier to relay it all to him. “This way,” she said as she turned to walk in the right direction. “I know you probably have a lot of questions, but I think we’ll both be more comfortable if we can get inside before I answer them.” John turned to walk alongside her, eager to spend time with his wife. Unsure of how long they would have together again. But, not wanting to waste a second if he could. As they reached her hotel room. He unstrapped their daughter from his chest, and handed her to Mary. Figuring that if she’d been here a little while, that she’d be missing their baby girl. He knew he did whenever he’d been separated from her just for a few hours. “How long have you been here?” “Not long,” she admitted, although she took her daughter eagerly. Even a few days was too long to be away from Rosie in her mind. She settled her in her arms, breathing in her familiar scent and felt incredibly thankful to be given this second chance as life, at happiness, even if she knew it wouldn't be as simple as all of that. “Have you told been told about the show?” she asked him. She wasn't entirely sure where to stop, but it seemed a fair place. Being fictional, now that had thrown her for a loop, but so had everything else Molly had told her. “Only what the hologram told me.” John replied, as he settled himself on the bed, watching his wife with their daughter. A pang in his chest, as he remembered how much time they’d lost. That Rosie might not even remember Mary. Not, with how young she was. And, he hated that. But, here she was. And, he couldn’t think anything bad about a world that would reunite their little family. “Our show, I take it?” Mary nodded. “Molly told me about it when I arrived. She’s watched it, so she knows about everything that’s happened, even beyond what she or I have lived. I haven’t decided yet if I want to watch it for myself, but they say that’s an option here.” Molly had given her an overview, anyway. Mary was curious enough to almost want to see it for herself, but a part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to. “Not exactly sure that watching my own mistakes on the BBC is entirely my cup of tea.” He mused, he’d spent enough time over this last year wallowing in his self-pity, thank you very much. And, he didn’t plan on doing anymore of it, if he could help it. “I’d much rather spend whatever time I might have here, with my beautiful wife, and daughter. So, how about we try doing that?” “That sounds just perfect to me,” she agreed, leaning in to rest her forehead against his. There would be things they needed to discuss eventually, but all of that could wait. |