Re: AFTERMATH-Florence & John
Energy was good. Energy was a thing John could barely muster anymore after hours of patching and fighting and killing. Possibly longer really, he'd all but lost track of time during war. That sort of thing happened when all one saw infront of them was blood of fallen friends. He'd been going on auto pilot most of the time. Sherlock ad once accused him of missing war, but if he saw this maybe his mind might change. This wasn't just war, it was practically slaughter on both sides. He could barely see which side was winning. He knew in war there often wasn't a real winner, but since he'd been in Kansas the lines had always been clear. Now they were muddy and full of blood.
John's hands were stained with blood as he held onto her. They shook slightly. His already damaged hand was swelling the longer he let it go. The longer it went the less chance he had to get movement in it back, he knew that. He knew that but he didn't want to leave Florence just yet.
"The count was high." He'd waited until the last wave of fighters still standing had left, that was the job of the medics and the captains alike. Wait until everyone was able to leave, did. John had seen so many on their side down, and so many civilians mindlessly slaughtered. He wasn't sure at this point which was worse, Afghanistan or Kansas. Both made him feel equally ill to his stomach, but that could come later. He still needed to keep going for everyone elses sake. People needed a doctor, but what in the world did he need?
Rose was gone. Harry too had fallen into the pit. That was what would make him better.
"Right..patched." When she pulled away the look in his eyes was distant, worn. He didn't want to let go of her hand for fear that she may slip away from him too.