As the pieces clicked into place, Florence's Eastern European temper flared up. It was a really good thing powers were back. Because she was pretty certain she'd be able to take Jacen Solo without them. Or, at the very least, put up a good fight. She was angry and she was worried for her friend, the fragile man in front of her who had fought so hard to get back from all the pain he'd suffered. Now Jacen had sent him right back. That bastard.
"You listen to me, John Watson, because I am only saying this once and if it doesn't get through your head, I will slap you with a newspaper. Sherlock Holmes was a lot of things, namely a prat. But he cared about you more than anyone. You are the only person in this city he would have died for. Maybe he did know it was a trap. Yes, he was a genius, he could have seen it coming. But he went to it not to get away from you, but to end the fight with him and Moriarty. If it was because of you, why wouldn't he have taken you with him? Let you get hurt, too? What would be the point of going out of his way to keep you safe if he didn't care so damn much about you?"
All right, so it was a bit of a monologue. But whatever it took to get through to him, she didn't care. Sometimes, it did take a lot of words for things to sink in for John. Especially when he was in his more depressive state. But her friend had worked his ass off to come back from the brink of suicide. Maybe he wasn't one hundred percent yet. Most people wouldn't be. He'd even gone so far as to get on those front lines fighting with the others, whether she'd wanted him to or not. And yes, it had cost him in the end. John was a soldier, but hardly a content one. And he was going to have trouble dealing with being back at war, it was to be expected. But dammit, he'd tried, and he shouldn't have to pay for that.
She gave his hand a squeeze before returning to her teacup. "Look, Jacen took one comment over the top. Even Rose acknowledged that wasn't how you meant it. She knows you, I know you, Jacen... He isn't your friend. Not now." Jacen didn't have the patience to handle John. And yes, Florence acknowledged that sometimes it took some effort with him. He wasn't okay, it was just how it was. "How does the saying go? 'If you can't take me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best'? Well. That's Jacen."
Because she knew John. She knew him when Sherlock was alive and she'd practically adopted him, then. Unlike Jacen, she wasn't going to turn her back when times got hard. Friends didn't do that. She knew Jacen had been grieving for his daughter, and she knew how badly it had to hurt. She'd have given anything to get just another day with her children. And to die so violently was a terrible thing. But he didn't deserve to take it out on John.