|John Watson internationally smuggles tea (imhisblogger) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2014-09-11 00:30:00
|Entry tags:||john watson, mary watson|
Who:John and Mary
When:backdated to John's birthday
John had to admit he was curious as to what Mary had in store. The woman was interesting to say the least. He didn't quite know how to act around her all the time, but she always seemed to know why or how to respond when he needed her to say something. Even if it was something he didn't always want to hear. On his way over he finally decided to make a stop by Sherlock's grave. This time however he didn't allow it to ruin his day. It was a simple act of paying respects to his dear friend. The one who actually had passed away.
..That still enraged him. He touched the head stone after spending a good half hour there. He didn't really understand what the hell Sherlock could have been thinking back home, deceiving him like that. Apparently everyone else but him had known the man was alive. Or so it seemed. John walked away before his mood soured, and before the moment was over. He really had just come to see him. It was still sobering. While it didn't anger him or break him as it used to, it was still his friend. He still owed him to visit now and then, and he really hadn't. He knew Sherlock would say it was stupid, that there was nothing to even visit. It was just a corpse, and his scientific brain didn't allow him to believe anything beyond body in the ground existed John couldn't help but do it every year.
The visits had come to that. Every year now instead of every few months or every week. He was moving on with his life quite well thank you. Even had a job, small group of friends and family, and in spite of his sore wrist he was almost content. Except in one area.
He still hadn't deemed himself worthy of love. He still remained closed off in that regard. Those who loved him got hurt. Or left. That thought still often played on his mind.
And yet..Mary still spoke to him even knowing all that he'd been through, and those around him had suffered. So he made the long walk to her flat and rang the ringer. Waiting for the woman to answer.