John didn't sleep much since the fighting happened. But then that was nothing new. He rarely slept very well thanks to nightmares and memories. The medication he took for his PTSD only did so much, when he slept it was a new world all together. He wasn't sure which dreams were worse, the ones involving the wars or the monsters or Sherlock. After a while they all just blended together in a mess of one. That had even been one where Sherlock was a monster. His least favorite one. He hadn't eaten much since the fighting began, only a few bits here and there. When he got upset he often forgot about it. As a doctor he knew the risks, but that was why he also stepped back from being one. He was in no mental shape to be diagnosing other people. He knew that. So why was it so bad that he'd pulled out of the medbay when he did? He knew he was only making things worse, so he had to quit. It was the only logical thing to do. He knew he'd messed things up with Anatoly, they weren't even speaking anymore. He didn't know how or if he could make that right again.
He didn't know if he could make anything right, and very nearly sunk to a desperate level of wanting to just disappear. No matter what he did he was wrong. He tried to help with the monsters, tried to help Rose and he was wrong. So he isolated himself. His shoulder had been all stitched up by whoever was available and then he slipped away once released. Toby was on the floor sleeping until he heard the sounds of footsteps outside his masters door and was up in a flash. He was sticking his paws under the frame trying to figure out if the thing behind it was friend or foe and making excited scuffling noises. He'd heard her long before she knocked, but John very nearly ignored it. Toby was still a puppy, he was excited by bugs that skittered along the ground.
John was lost in a world of thought as steam from his tea pot began to spill out the spout. Finally it whistled and John picked it up. He was ready to pour the tea when Toby decided barking was the best way to get his attention. John made a face as he put the teapot back and went to the door instead. "Oh hush you silly mutt." John opened the door and raised an eyebrow. "Florence? Wasn't expecting visitors. Everything all right?" He tried to put on a less troubled look but was finding it difficult as he stepped aside to let her in and nudged the puppy back with his leg.