Dr. John Watson

Welcome to the blog of Dr. John Watson, the flatshare and friend to Sherlock Holmes. [Independent RP blog for John Watson, BBC Sherlock. Send me a message if you'd like to RP. Blog may contain NSFW material. Mun and Muse are 18+] I track the tag 'johnwatsontheblogger'.

[soundofbloom]

[jaimelannistre-archived]

Who you  r e a l l y  are,                                                                 i t  m a t t e r s .

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

Sherlock blinked and then blinked again, while he attempted to sort himself out this time. Mycroft couldn’t be called, because he couldn’t deal with his brother right now. He was pretty sure it’d end up in a disaster, no matter how hard Mycroft would try to prevent said disaster from happening by being an absolutely cunt to him.

“Not my intention.”

“What isn’t your intention?” he asked then, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because I thought you did everything intentionally. Everything you do is calculated and bloody perfect because you’re Sherlock Holmes! And Sherlock Holmes can’t risk doing something wrong.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “What are you doing this for?”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

Sherlock turned his gaze in John’s direction as he continued his little rant and part of it made completely sense to Sherlock, while other parts swiftly shot past him in an attempt to save himself from a real attempt. He couldn’t let any of his feelings get to him, because that’d be disastrous as always. Instead he quickly locked them away in a room he never visited.

“You’re right.” He sat a little straighter, though in his state that didn’t go all too gracefully. “I’m just waiting for a case, that’s all.”

And yet again, Sherlock didn’t actually respond to what was going on with him, which made it only more frustrating, because they weren’t having any conversation at all.

“Are you going to get yourself sorted or do you need me to call Mycroft?” he then suddenly asked. “Because I obviously have no idea how to deal with you when you’re like this, seeing as you’re just ignoring all the points I’m making so you don’t actually have to deal with how you’re behaving like a prick. And, actually, you always do that.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

The tone in John’s voice got through even the heaviest drug-induced haze and Sherlock knew he had a problem of sorts, but whether he cared a lot was yet to be seen. Maybe tomorrow… or in a day or two, if he managed to sober up. Right now he just felt sad that John was more invested in going home and therefore upset about not being able to.

“You are an absolute imbecile, John. It’s all a matter of perspective. To answer your question, though: I’m waiting on something better to do. You, for instance.”

John rolled his eyes at that, his gaze turning to the kitchen to divert his anger elsewhere. He was much further than frustrated at this point. “Can you just shut up?!” he then asked, his hands raising, while a belittling smile spread over his face. “You always get into these moments of behaving like a complete and utter idiot.” He nodded. “Yes, Sherlock, you heard that right. An idiot. Do you want me to tell you why? Oh I’ll just go ahead and do it anyway.”

He suddenly stepped towards his chair and sat down. “You’re doing this because you’re bored, because I’m not here anymore. You’re sad because I don’t live here anymore, but instead of solving that, Sherlock, you push me away further. You don’t include me. You behave like you’re unwanted and you become unwanted. Nobody wants a whinger for a friend.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

Sherlock felt disorientated by the sudden movement, but then looked (more or less) in John’s direction offendedly. He’d hit a nerve, obviously, and Sherlock felt guilty, but somehow delighted all at once.

“Maybe you’re seeing a problem where there isn’t one, John. I’m merely passing the time.”

“You’ve relapsed, Sherlock, I’m sure there’s no problem I can find in that,” he snapped, dragging Sherlock back to let him fall down onto his chair. “What do you think you’re doing just taking drugs like this? And don’t give me the ‘oh you think this is so dire’ look, because I’m not an absolute imbecile, despite what you like to think.” He was getting rather furious suddenly.

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

“Yes, you do that,” Sherlock replied, having gone back to staring at the ceiling instead. Of course John’s decision had very little to do with the fact that he’d otherwise punch his friend in the face and everything with wanting to return to Mrs. Watson, but Sherlock would play dumb off-case if John preferred that.

John rolled his eyes at that. Could anyone be any less responsive? “Oh for god’s sake Sherlock!” he spat and leaned forwards suddenly, grabbing Sherlock by the shoulders, before dragging him up in an instant. “You’re being pathetic.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

Sherlock knew that Mycroft would have gladly provided John with an answer to his burning questions, but he didn’t state that out loud, as it wouldn’t do his reputation any good and right now it was already dwindling.

“Leave it? Okay. Leave it.”

He was ready to hit or kick something. Sherlock was being absolutely annoying, childish, off his head and John didn’t have a temper compatible to situations like this. “If I stay here, I’m probably going to end up punching you in the face, seeing as you’re acting like a complete an utter prick.”

He sighed heavily. “I’ll get Mrs. Hudson to make you a cup of tea. She might be a little more tolerant.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

It took a few seconds for John’s underlying worry to get through to him, but once it did he couldn’t help himself and laughed. John obviously thought of a different ‘attempt’ he could be undertaking right now. How endearing.

“Nothing too deadly,” he replied, not wanting to entirely relief John from his worry. He was too bitter for it and the concern in John’s question made him feel something: wanted. He couldn’t dismiss it with ease, not even for the sake of John getting home in time for supper.

John crossed his arms when Sherlock said it like that. “Nothing too deadly, well, in that case I think I’ll head off then,” he stated as bitterly as Sherlock had. “You know, I don’t understand why you have to behave like such a fucking--” He breathed in deeply and raised his hand up. “You know what. Leave it.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

At that question Sherlock sighed deeply, before finally meeting eye to eye with John. Focussing wasn’t exactly easy and he was pretty sure he was looking straight past him, but at least he could read John’s expression, somewhat. He was impatient, probably had other places to be, but felt too guilty to leave, as he thought himself the responsible one. Sherlock should relieve him of his obligations, so he could return to his wife. It was the right thing to do. More importantly; it’s what John wanted.

“Oh you wouldn’t understand,” he replied tiredly. “But no worries, my attempt was successful.”

He crossed his arms over his chest before looking down at his feet, adjusting the way he was standing for a lack of something better to do. “What makes you think I wouldn’t understand?” he asked, feeling a little ridiculed by Sherlock’s statement. “Your attempt at shutting yourself up?” he then questioned, his voice implying that that was the more important question. “How much have you taken exactly?” Why did Sherlock have to be so dramatic?

[johnwatsontheblogger]

probablyaskingforit:

Sherlock hadn’t looked up at John yet and instead was staring at the ceiling, which was turning slow unfinished circles. “If you really want to know,” he started, before sucking in some air. “I had to shut myself up.”

“You had to shut yourself up,” John repeated, as if he wasn’t buying it. It wasn’t quite that, though. It was more that he didn’t want to have to deal with Sherlock being like this. Why that was, he didn’t know. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

[probablyaskingforit]

“You promised I wouldn’t find you like this again!”

“Evidently I was quick to make such promises. In retrospect I think I was just trying to shut you up, John.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

John cleared his throat, which ended with a ‘hm’ that showed his utter displeasure and lack of idea how to go about this. “Yes, I suppose it was,” he stated, crossing his arms. “So, what’s this about, then?”

[kdstp]

Army Man

[kdstp]

He chuckled to himself, but it was barely audible. “I’m not trying to sound kind.” He replied. “I just can be kind, if I want to.” He pulled the curtains open, letting go of the phone and letting it rest between his ear and his shoulder. “I’m very near you at the moment, but you should tell me where you want to meet me. I am open for it.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

John didn’t know what that meant, being near to him. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He didn’t know why he was okay with doing this. He’d seen what had happened to Sherlock, how he behaved ever since all of this had started happening. Sherlock had gone to shit, or at least his sleep had.

“Ring the doorbell and we’ll make a decision then,” he said. “Stay on the phone, if you will.” He stepped towards the window.

[hobbitbilbo]

So, how’ve you been? Er, yeah, good. Yeah. Much better.

[kdstp]

Army Man

[kdstp]

"You tell me." he spoke genuinely. "It bothered me that we have not had a chance to speak in person yet." He laughed a little, but it wasn’t to make him sound even more evil than John must have already thought. It was genuine, as though he really was thinking about a joke to tell the other. "But to be honest, I’ve never asked you whether or not you would be interested. Could you tell me how you feel about it?"

[johnwatsontheblogger]

"I feel like you're trying to get some kind of reaction out of me by trying to sound kind,"--you sick bastard-- he said. He stayed calm, surprisingly. He was not going to satisfy this guy. He'd learned enough from Sherlock over the past few years about criminals, he wasn't going to let them have what they wanted.

"But sure," he then said. "Let's meet. I'm sure it will be very enlightening." His knuckles already itched. He wanted to knock that man into the pavement. "Meet me on the same terms you met Sherlock. Just you and me. Don't bother about dinner though, I wouldn't want to get you into trouble with the waiters."

[kdstp]

Army Man

[kdstp]

The Master knew he had to enjoy this for however long it could still last now, and he would. He’d take everything he could get, so yes, he would take this too. He had thought about it, after all, long and hard. He had to trust himself— and probably John too— that this simplistic little phone call would not mess anything up. He had taken measures, of course, but he still couldn’t have anything go against his plan. “I do see your point.” He then said, moving his fingers over the fabric of the closed curtain he sad beside of. “And I will try my hardest not to.”

He bit his lip, his insecurities only visible to himself, as he was completely alone now. “John Watson.” He then spoke, full well knowing that the other would despise him even more for pronouncing his name like that. “How would you feel about meeting me? I know we’ve had our struggles, but that has been months, hasn’t it?”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

John's anger always outed itself in laughter, or a grin, if he was angry enough, and it did so now too. He became cynical, sarcastic, arrogant.

Probably what annoyed him the most was dishonesty. Covering up that he murdered in cold blood with this friendliness. John could do nothing more than play in on that, despite how furious all of this made him.

"On what terms?" he then asked, saying nothing more of what he found of it. That's probably what drove him, a reaction. Didn't it drive everyone?

[kdstp]

Army Man

[kdstp]

A look of genuine amusement appeared on his face, but he kept quiet for a little longer. He sat down in his chair, the phone pressed to his ear. “Only if you can manage to stay calm, all the way through. I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

[johnwatsontheblogger]

John wasn't sure whether he was glad about having Sherlock out of the house right now or not. Maybe this phone call was about that. He bloody well hoped not. "Maybe you should try your best not to, then. I'm hot headed, especially when it down to you. I think you should deal with that, rather than me. But fine, we'll both try." He was already getting angry now.

He should probably alert someone, to track this phone number down, but the criminal probably had thought about that. And Sherlock would kill him if he involved Lestrade on this case.