|John Watson internationally smuggles tea (imhisblogger) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2012-09-22 16:06:00
|Entry tags:||john watson, rose tyler|
Who:John and Rose
Moriarty lurking about had caused some high stress in the doctor. There were a few he'd mistakenly snapped at, a few he'd glared at, and others he'd panicked at, but throughout it all Rose stayed with him. Moriarty had tried to tell him nobody cared anymore, but Rose was still there. She didn't tell him to get over it, and didn't try to stop him from stabbing the ghost of the man in the face with an iron poker infact encouraged it. He was getting attached. She remained by his side when he needed her the most and didn't pitch a fit if he texted at random hours of the night.
Sherlock's new face had set off alarm bells in his head. The man was going to be reckless and get himself killed and John couldn't do it a third time. It'd sent him pacing across the livingroom of the fat many times that night. Enough likely to make his puppy dizzy from watching. John was anxious as hell. Using his cane again and over thinking, he paced. He couldn't watch Sherlock die a third time. He couldn't stop him from wanting adventures as Florence had put it, but he could remove himself. He could put so much distance between him and that man that he would never get hurt again and that was looking extremely appealing.
As was the thought of getting entirely faced and not having to deal with the constant worry that suddenly plagued him. He shouldn't be worrying. It wasn't his Sherlock. He was still a Sherlock. Could he really just sit back and do nothing?