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Chapter Text

Doctor John H Watson has been fighting for longer than he could remember. He fought the doctors who helped his mother while she was in labor as John fisted his tiny hands around his cord and refused to budge. He fought his big sister Harry when she tried to dress him up like a doll. He fought his fellow preschoolers when they teased him for being so tiny. He fought his peers in elementary school when they teased him for being so tiny. He fought older, larger boys in high school when they taunted him about his (lack of) height. He even fought his father’s rules and snuck out of the house. So it was to the surprise of no one that John eventually went and joined the military later in his life.

John’s fighting spirit could be blamed on his father, Ian, who was a warrior in his own right, a hunter that could rival the Winchester and Campbell name. Or the fact that the Watsons have been fighting for longer than they had been called Watsons. Or, it could be blamed on Leah and Daniel Watson, John’s mother and younger brother, on the way that John, at the tender age of seven, had to watch helplessly as his mother was murdered by his own father and his brother devoured by their mother. Some may even say that John’s fighting spirit comes from the hatred he held for the demon, Choronzon, that had initiated his mother’s change.

Ian Watson stopped hunting after his wife’s passing, heart-stricken with the pain of having to off his own wife, and he banned hunting for his remaining two children. When he wasn’t working as a moving real estate agent, he was home wallowing in sorrow. Harry Watson avoided her father and remaining brother like the plague, staying late at friends houses and going to parties just for an excuse to stay out of their quiet, too large empty house. When she wasn’t partying or drinking, Harry hunted, defying her father. Searching the woods at night and hiking the mountains with a set of knives and a loaded gun in her backpack. Countless times, John had packed his own bags, ready to set out with her. But Ian always caught him by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back into his room with a rough hand. Years went by like this and the home grew darker as time went on.

Around the middle of high school, John finally managed to break away from his father, away, even, from his sister. With only the vaguest idea of what he was doing, John caught a bus that carried him miles away from the familiar scenery of his home, and he followed a trail of gruesome, unsolved crimes through a distant countryside.

He thought he was ready, after all, he’d been preparing, training his whole life, it seemed. But he wasn’t, nothing could have prepared him for the smell, for the sight, for the sound of bodies at varying states of decay, being torn into by jagged fangs. He managed but escaped by luck alone. John spent a good portion of that night retching into a bush, and sewing up gashes on his arms, legs, and chest. When he finally returned home, he was scolded nonstop by his father and nursed back to health by a disgruntled Harry.

Not long after John turned 17, he and his classmates were invited on a field trip to a local museum, which had been known for electrifying deaths in the basement. No one knew how the victims keep dying so they ensured the basement was blocked off at all times. It was this day that John met Sam and Dean Winchester, who were 10 and 14 respectively. Sam and Dean were spending their free time trying to sneak into the basement to hunt the ghost when John caught them.

John easily figured out they were hunter kids and decided to go along with them on a hunt just to make sure they didn’t hurt themselves. To say Dean was annoyed with Sam and John by the end was an understatement. Then the trio wasn’t busy dodging a ghost, Dean would be busy trying to end another sass battle between John and Sam. Of course, they almost regretted messing around when John died for a minute when the ghost electrocuted him.

Over the next two weeks, the trio would get to know each other and quickly become friends. They exchanged numbers so they could still contact each other when the Winchesters finally went back to America.They even managed to send a few letters to each other and would help each other out when they needed it. The trio continued hunting in their separate countries over the many years that the boys knew each other.

During one of John’s hunts, he ends up meeting a colony of vampires. It was half a year after John met the Winchesters and he was taking a summer trip alone before he started his senior year of high school. John traveled away from London and headed for Nottingham, defeating any monsters he came across along the way. The Alpha, Martin Nassir, managed to pull John to the side and explain that his family feed off of the blood back and wild animals. John did stay skeptical until he met the other hunters that were in town. Once he learned more about the hunters he decided to help save the vampires, who thanked him by adopting him into their family. They even decided to help support John through college as he started working to a medical degree a year later.

On his way back to London, John ends up meeting a cult of witches. This was the hunt that would change his life forever. The witches ended up hurting a lot of people and John was forced to kill all of them except one. One got away. She was a young brunette, not much younger than John at the time, and went by the name Ursula. Before she vanished, she cast a spell on John.

“Foeda omnia velis curam rerum articulo mortis passuri. Qui curat nisi pariter possit resistere morte solvatur maledictio.”

At the time, John was unable to translate what she had said. By the time he could, he could no longer remember the full incantation. However, John looked himself over and he appeared to be fine so he thought the spell didn’t work. What he doesn’t know was that it had worked. The spell said: All those you wish to care for shall suffer horrible events to the point of death. Only if the one who cares for you equally can defy death, shall the curse be broken. Of course, Ursula didn’t think it was possible for anyone to defy death and she had no way of reversing the spell.

When John finally returned home, a month before his senior year was to start, he was shocked by home much had changed in a short time. His father had become an abusive drunk and died a week later from alcohol poisoning, Harry and John were sent to live with their angry abusive aunt from their mother’s side, and Harry quit hunting to hang out with the kids from the wrong side of the tracks. All of this happened within a month. At first, John thought it was just a string of bad luck.

As time went on, John’s family wasn’t the only one affected. John found out that his girlfriend of one and a half years moved across seas and could no longer stay in contact with John. Then his next girlfriend turned out to be psychotic and murdered any girl she saw as a threat. Thankfully she was placed in an asylum shortly after John broke up with her. When the young soon-to-be doctor started his years at Bart’s University, he realized that he was bisexual and started going out with guys as well as girls. However, his luck with relationships seemed to stick with him.

His first boyfriend nearly committed suicide because of failing grades before John talked it over with him and decided they needed time apart. John’s next girlfriend cheated on him for money. Then John and his first boyfriend got back together and John was too late to save him from suicide. John’s next relationship was with a girl who ended up being addicted to drugs and was later expelled when a teacher overheard her trying to get John to try drugs. Then there was the boyfriend who got cancer and died after. To finish off his University years, John dated a girl who cut everyone out of her life shortly after her parents died.

Other than that, John excelled in school and found an informant named Philip that John would go to during hunts for information. Philip, or Phil, and John never physically met or give each other their last names but they did talk over the phone regularly and soon became friends. John made sure he was always at the top of his class and decided to go into the Military with his medical degree. Thus meeting his next boyfriend, a fellow Sargent who went insane during training one day. At this point, John decided to wait on finding a relationship until he returned home. That lasted shortly before he was promoted Captain and he met Sholto. Then Sholto’s accident happened and John could no longer have him.

During his time as an army doctor, John would help war ghosts move on while also fighting off the enemy and patching up his comrades. He was a very busy doctor. There was one ghost that refused to move on and helped John get other ghosts to move on. The two were fast friends and even told John that one time the good doctor accidentally, miraculously, killed a reaper that was going after one of his mates while John was busy patching up another soldier. It scared the reaper’s student half to death and he fled. This friendly ghost even knew a little bit of Latin and helped Watson carry out longer conversations, although he was still very shaky when he talked.

It wasn’t long after that when John was shot and died for a minute before one of his war brothers managed to revive him. With his psychosomatic limp, John could longer hunt when he returned home. He did visit Harry and found out that her wife, Clara, died in a car crash shortly before John had returned home. John took notice that Harry was trying to drink her sorrows away, reverting back to the way she was before Clara became a part of her life. Not wanting any reminders of her dead lover, Harry gave John her phone.

A week later, John bumped into Mike Stanford, who was an old hunting and college buddy that was able to get out of the hunting life. Through Mike, John met Sherlock and their adventures began while John slowly fell hopelessly in love with the consulting detective. Over the next few weeks, John finds out a lot about Sherlock, including when the consulting detective gets too deep in thought to notice a language change. This is how John continues to practice his Latin.

Of course, it wasn’t long before someone overheard John speaking in Latin. The first to find out was, unsurprisingly, Mycroft, who had placed cameras in the flat to keep an eye on his brother. The government man kidnapped John (again) and the two talked in Latin as Mycroft tried to figure out where John learned the language. John found it amusing that Mycroft was having difficulties trying to figure John out. The good doctor decided not to tell the government man that he was a hunter and that learning different languages was key to several hunts.

The next to find out was Mrs. Hudson, who John found out is a witch who specializes in healing remedies. John and Mrs. Hudson decided to keep each other’s secret pasts from the rest of London, including Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson knew John would know Latin but she never knew how much he knew until she walked in on her boys talking to each other in Latin. Sherlock was completely focused on a particularly difficult case when Mrs. Hudson walked in with tea. John got up from his chair to allow their landlady to sit comfortably. Sherlock was muttering to himself and not paying any attention when John gave Mrs. Hudson a mischievous look, holding a figure to his lips. John started talking to Sherlock in Latin, telling the consulting detective to take a break and drink some tea. Mrs. Hudson had to hold back her giggles as Sherlock was oblivious to the exchange. She loved listening to her boys speak Latin, even if she doesn’t hear it often.

The last to find out was Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. The DI had come to the flat to get the information Sherlock was gathering while the consulting detective was being a prat. Sherlock was completely focused on the case and John was getting annoyed with Sherlock and Greg’s bickering. So John took Lestrade’s side and told Sherlock to stop being annoying. Surprising Greg when he heard another language come out of John’s mouth. Later, Lestrade pulled John aside and asked where he had learned that from.

“I don’t know what you mean, Greg,” John would say, a far too sweet smile on his face.

John would tell the Winchester brothers and his Vampire family about the times when Sherlock and he would talk in Latin and each one found it funny that the consulting detective had yet to notice the language change. Harry even laughed, her day brightening just a little bit thanks to her little brother.

One day, Sherlock was being especially annoying and John was venting about it to Phil. Soon enough, John found out that Phil knows a similar person who sounded just as bad as his flatmate.

“He’s a consulting detective who is amazing with his deductions but so rude to everyone except his flatmate,” Phil told John. “I would definitely want to be friends with the bloke if it weren’t for all his rude comments.” John froze, not sure how to respond. How would Philip know his flatmate? It didn’t make sense.

“Phil, there is only one consulting detective in the world. How do you know my flatmate?” John asked, hoping Phil isn’t possessed by a demon. Philip was quiet for a long time before he finally spoke.

“John Watson?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Anderson.” The two just sit in complete silence before laughing at the awkwardness of their situation. Anderson then explained to John that he is purposely mean to Sherlock so that the consulting detective will focus more on the case and not on the fact that he is a hunter informant.

After the Black Lotus incident, John was fired from the clinic and decided to get back into hunting. He was very careful of Sherlock, making sure to take every precaution to hide the hunting world from his friend and crush. John looked at no other person for romance, although he did say he was going on dates to hide the fact that he was hunting. The times he would ‘stay over at his date’s house’ John was really just outside the city on an overnight hunt. During one of these overnight hunts, John bumped into Ursula again. She managed to escape a second time but not before informing John about the curse, refusing to tell him that there is a way to break the curse. John spent the rest of the night in his hotel room, gathering his emotions so that Sherlock wouldn’t find out. From then on, John kept an emotional distance from Sherlock, not wanting his friend to get hurt because of the curse. His feelings for Sherlock only grew.

A couple weeks later, John was visited by one of Choronzon’s lackeys while Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson was away. The demon offered to break the curse on John in exchange for his soul. The good doctor hesitated for a moment before refusing wholeheartedly. He refused to allow a demon to help him break an unbreakable curse. Mrs. Hudson later comforted the poor doctor.

Then there was The Great Game and all of the bombings. Nearly dying at the pool only to be saved by a phone call. Next was meeting The Woman, the dominatrix, and her false death. John was in for a shock when she asked John to find her son and even signed over custody to John to protect her son. Unfortunately, John still hadn’t found said missing boy but was surprised to find that the boy’s name was Henry Isaac Moriarty.

Chapter Text

Two years before John met Sherlock

Jim Moriarty comes home, hanging up his coat on the way in. He places his briefcase down by the front door before taking off his shoes and walking farther into his simple and brightly colored home. He makes his way into the kitchen where he can hear quiet chatter. There is a dark haired boy sitting at the table doing homework and a thin dark haired beauty making dinner nearby. Jim walks over to his son first, kissing the top of the boy’s head and greeting his son.

“How is your homework coming, Henry?” Jim asked his son.

“I’m almost done with it, dad,” Henry answered before returning his focus to his homework, determined to get it done before dinner. Jim smiled at his boy before walking over to his wife just as she turns around to greet her husband. “Hello Irene,” Jim greets in a loving whisper.

(Line Break)

John and Sherlock had been chasing a criminal around London all day. Just a petty thief that was difficult to catch. Sherlock and John watched as the criminal was shoved into the police car, the criminal grumbling about getting caught by ‘Sherlock and his boyfriend’.

“I’m not gay!” John shouted at the criminal, never noticing the quick sorrowful look Sherlock shot his way. 

John made sure Sherlock stayed long enough to give Lestrade a statement about the case before they headed home. As they walked back to the flat, Sherlock would whisper deductions about the people they pass by just to hear John complement him the whole way home. When they finally enter their flat, John heads up to his room while Sherlock walked into their living room to play his violin. 

As soon as John reached his bedroom door, he unlocked it and entered. The first thing John did once he closed his bedroom door was look directly above his head. Above him is his bedroom ceiling with a swirling red vine-like design that hid the Devil’s Traps in front of his door and window along with every other protection sigil he and his friends could find. His hunting gear was tucked away in a bag under his bed and his hunting journal was hidden between his boxspring and mattress. One of the only reasons John hasn’t been caught was because he made sure to be extra careful with Sherlock home and he always locked his door. Both when he is away and while he was in his room.

John locked his door and pulled out his phone, having programmed his hunting friends into his phone shortly after he had gotten the device from Harry. The doctor checked the time: 3:00 pm. He quickly added the hours up to make sure they wouldn’t be asleep before calling Sam. The younger hunter picked up on the second ring.

“Hey John,” the moose of a man greets. “We just finished a hunt. How have you been?”

“Good so far. My flatmate just finished another case,” John replied, slowly unwinding. 

“Great! Can we expect a blog update soon then?” 

“Probably, if I don’t have to stop Sherlock from getting punched anytime soon.” 

“But then you’d probably start making out with each other finally,” Sam teased.

“I’m not gay!”

“Neither am I but we both still seem to like guys every now and again,” Sam countered with a laugh.

“No, apparently you like trickster demigods,” John teased right back. The doctor chuckled when he heard a quiet curse over the phone.

“Dean told you, huh?”

“Yeah, from what I got from Dean’s point of view, you were really hitting it off with the Trickster.” There was another curse from Sam’s end before the two men laughed and joked around for a little bit, talking about various hunts and whether Sam and Dean would be able to catch up with the demon that killed their parents. Their conversation then turns to complaining about Sherlock and Dean, as per usual. Once the two complained and laughed to their heart's’ content they signed off. 

As John returns to the living room, he thinks about all the monsters he’s hunted out of London. Sure, there were still the few who thought they could take back little bits of London or could challenge John but each one failed miserably. Although, he did leave a few alone, the ones that were actually good and not trying to harm anyone. Like Mrs. Hudson or the butcher across town. He still checks up on each of them from time to time to make sure they aren’t trying to hurt people but other than that he leaves them be.

When John finally makes it into the living room he sees his landlady sitting on the couch with a cuppa. The two easily greet each other, the older woman telling him that Sherlock ran out of the flat with another murder mystery. John was about to sit down when what Mrs. Hudson said next made him freeze.

“Those poor homeless. It almost sounded like a vampire attack.”

John grabbed a machete, a small jar of dead man’s blood, and a lighter before racing out the door. He’s worked too hard to keep Sherlock out of the supernatural world to let it go to waste now. The doctor stopped dead in his tracks, just remembering the Mycroft’s cameras and the fact that he didn’t know where the killings were happening. John walked back inside and could see Mrs. Hudson coming down the stairs.

“They keep happening over by the Thames,” Mrs. Hudson answered before he could ask, already knowing John is going to double check the area for clues.

The doctor nods before walking out again and taking a cab until he was a couple blocks away from the murder site, the lights of the police cars lighting up the nightly river. John made sure to stay out of sight from everyone, including Sherlock. The doctor then snatched his phone out of his pocket and texted Phil. He watched from a distance as Anderson suddenly excused himself and walked over to where John was hiding.

“Vampire. Definitely a vampire,” Anderson whispered once he reached John’s hiding spot. “How do you plan to kill it without Sherlock noticing? If his homeless network sees you they’ll tell him.”

“Not if I get to it first,” John told him with determination.

“It’s spiraling towards the center of London,” Anderson sighed. John nodded before dashing off, getting a quick glimpse of Sherlock heading in their direction.

It didn’t take much longer after that for John to find and stop the vampire male from going after another one of Sherlock’s homeless. The vampire and John battled for quite a while, the homeless staring wide-eyed in the background, before John finally used his machete to cut its head off and then tossing it into the trash to burn the body. John clutched his bleeding side, texting Mrs. Hudson to tell her he needed a patch up when he got home and convinced the homeless not to tell Sherlock what happened.

John took a cab home and Mrs. Hudson rushed to him, finger to her mouth to keep him quiet. She ushered him into her kitchen to get his patch work done and told him Sherlock was home looking for clues on the case. The two, as they wait for the soother to finish, talk about random things, eventually leading back to John’s curse. John had only told his friends that already knew about the supernatural world about his curse and each one was sure John could find a way to break it.

“I’m sure there is a way to break the curse, love.” Mrs. Hudson encourages as she rubs the soothers on the wound. “The girl was young then, a little younger than you, right?” John nods his head, which was resting on his jumper pillow. “She probably made a mistake in the incantation.”

“If there is, then someone will have to sacrifice their life,” John groans, hating this topic. Mrs. Hudson, John knew, was the only witch he would ever trust.

“Come now, dear. She was young. I’m sure she’s made a mistake. I know I did. Several times for that matter.”

“I doubt that I’m going to bump into Ursula again, Mrs. Hudson.”

(Line Break)

John watched as Sherlock’s bloody body was taken away from the scene. He felt like he was having an out of body experience as he stared after Sherlock’s body. The only thing he could think of was no on repeat. He had kept his distance. He had made sure Sherlock didn’t know about the curse. He had tried to tamp down his love for Sherlock. He had hoped the curse wouldn’t react to his love for Sherlock. Now Sherlock was dead.

‘Get it together, Watson,’ John thought before turning his gaze up to Bart’s roof. John set his shoulders and marched inside the building, making his way up to the roof. When he finally got to the top, he saw Moriarty’s body, blood still dripping out from the hole in his head. The army doctor glared and marched over to kick the corpse for good measure when he saw it. A powdering dust on the edge of Jim’s lips. John swiped a finger across it and sniffed.

“Sulfur,” John whispered, eyes widening. This was a demon’s doing. A growl escaped his throat as he stood and swiftly left the roof before anyone could see him. John muttered and cursed himself all the way back to Baker Street. Moriarty was still alive and Sherlock was dead. John knew he wasn’t clever enough against Moriarty but he was and is a hunter. He can hunt the demon down. 

When they had first met Jim at the pool, John had a feeling that Moriarty was more dangerous than he seemed. He didn’t realize it then but it was his hunter instincts screaming at him to notice the demon. Now it was too late to save Sherlock. There was no questioning it. John was going to avenge Sherlock even if it kills him.

Mrs. Hudson showered him with sorrows the moment John walked through the door. The doctor comforted his landlady until her sobs subsided. He then told her about the sulfur and how he is planning to go after Moriarty. She encouraged him before John sent her to her flat, promising to have a cup of tea with her shortly, just as they heard a knock on the front door. He walked over to the door, his shoulders never relaxing since Bart’s, and opened the door to see Mycroft standing there. The two gave each other wary greetings before John allowed the elder Holmes to enter. The two stood by the stairs as they talked.

“You don’t have to worry about the rent, I’ll make sure it’s paid in full,” Mycroft informed John, making the army doctor angry.

“Why didn’t you help him?” John growled out, not caring about the rent. “Why didn’t you stop him from going after Moriarty alone?” Before John could really get into a full-on angry speech against Mycroft, there was another knock on the door. Confused, John opened it to reveal an ordinary delivery man carrying a box the size of a small suitcase. Before John could tell the delivery man that he had the wrong flat, the delivery man spoke.

“Hello again, Johnny Boy,” he says, eyes going black. “It’s nice to see you without Sherlock nearby.” John is confused before he realizes, his hands curling into fists as understanding overtook him.

“You possessed Jim Moriarty,” John growled out, backing up to make sure he had the option to run up the stairs to his room if needed. Mycroft would usually butt in about now except he was too busy gaping at the black eyes of the delivery man.

“And?” John just looks confused. “Come now, we met when you were merely seven,” the demon teased. John gasps, tensing as recognition sets in.

“Choronzon,” he whispers as the demon gives a sickly sweet smile that grows into a Cheshire like grin. Choronzon then drops the box, making it fall open and revealing the butcher knives as they tumble out. 

“Oopsies,” the demon says in a sing-song voice. He then raises his hand and the knives rise up, blades pointing to Mycroft and John before they began to dive towards the duo. 

John quickly grabs the elder Holmes’ wrist and proceeds to drag Mycroft out of harm’s way and up to his room. Mycroft was shouting the whole way up and asking John what Choronzon is and what is going on. Once at the top of the stairs, John fumbles with his key before quickly thrusting it into his bedroom lock. John and Mycroft barely make it into the room before Choronzon catches up to them. John dives for his hunting bag but it flies out of his hands due to Choronzon’s power just before the demon unknowingly steps into the Devil’s Trap, making John smirk and break Mycroft’s brain further. 

John stands protectively in front of Mycroft, unwilling to let another Holmes fall prey to this monster. The demon casually stalks towards them, like a cat stalking a bug, still not realizing he was trapped. He didn’t go far from the door before acting as though he had walked into an invisible wall, which would have been funny if the situation hadn’t been what it was. Choronzon looked confused at first before he looked up, Mycroft following his stare, to see the devil’s trap hidden within the ceiling’s intricate design.

“Paranoid little human, aren’t you?” Choronzon teases as he studies the almost decorative lines cleverly hidden.

“It keeps me safe,” John replied shortly. Mycroft changes his gaze to stare at the black eyes in horror and confusion.

“Hi~!” Choronzon greets the government man in a sing-song voice. “Name’s Choronzon but you know me as Jim Moriarty. Or rather, the poor bloke I possessed was named Moriarty. I was just the demon that borrowed his name and meat suit for a little while,” the demon informed, whispering the last sentence. “Had to ditch the last host, couldn’t have any humans getting suspicious and all that.” The demon relished the look of Mycroft having troubles processing everything before turning his sights on John. “Oh, and you, Johnny Boy. You’re very famous in the supernatural world. I’m very impressed,” the mad-demon purred. “You see, I’ve had my eye you and Sherly for a long time, hunter.”

“Right. ‘Cause I’m a special little goldfish,” John sassed.

“Ah, but you are. You and Sherly were simply meant to be~” Choronzon singsonged. “Had to physically stop you two from meeting a few times over the years.” John stiffens, not believing his ears. “Oh yes, I had to stop you two from meeting in kindergarten, in middle school, in high school, even a couple of times when you were at the University. Luckily, by college Sherlock was so deep into drugs that he ended up doing most of the work for me. Although I did have to put little Harriet in jail so that you wouldn’t meet his overdosed state a few times.” John was horrified. He was supposed to meet his best friend sooner before he was cursed. Vaguely, John thought that maybe if he had met Sherlock before the witches, maybe he wouldn’t have been cursed. “I warned him, didn’t I? That I would burn the heart out of him? Although it was absolutely wonderful to hear that you had destroyed your own chances with that little… problem before the war. Though, I have to admit,” said the demon, almost coyly. “It was a shame to put a stop to such an adorably cliche wedding” 

“What wedding?” John asks, dread and indescribable pain filling his gut alongside anger for not being able to spend more time with Sherlock. Chronozon only smirks.

“Why, your and Sherlock’s of course,” John sees red, anger and hatred filling his every pore as he spits Latin at the demon like acid.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio, et secta diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rugamus, audi nos.” The red fades as the demon is pulled out of the body and sent to Hell. John is left feeling empty inside as thoughts of Sherlock consumed his mind. Mycroft managed to get John’s attention as he shifted uncomfortably in the room.

“I am unsure as to what just happened,” Mycroft said uncomfortably.

“Long story short, this is no ordinary case and the supernatural exists,” John explained. “I’m going after Choronzon’s web and nothing you do is going to stop me.”

“I’ll help.” John lifted an eyebrow at the government man. “I’ll get you all the supplies you need but you have to work with a partner of my choosing.” The army doctor thought about it for a bit before agreeing, thinking that having the supplies needed will be more helpful than hustling pool. He then searches for some paper and a pen to write down his supplies before handing it over to Mycroft. 

“Have these ready by the end of the week,” John orders. “I’ll be ready by then.” The elder Holmes nods before helping the delivery man find his way home, sending the list to one of his minions, before heading over to his office where Sherlock was waiting for him.

“How is John handling everything?” Sherlock immediately asks. 

“Relax, brother mine. Your doctor is fine for now,” Mycroft informs. “However, I have received information on Moriarty’s web. It turns out that it is far more dangerous than we originally expected. I’m assigning you a partner.” Mycroft made sure to be careful not to say Choronzon to Sherlock until the doctor and detective could meet. Sherlock made a scoffing noise but didn’t argue, knowing he was going to need Mycroft’s resources during his time away.

(Line Break)

John used the next week to make sure he had everything he needed for his trip and saying goodbye to Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. The day before John was to leave for his mission, he and his landlady went to visit Sherlock’s grave, never noticing the detective himself hiding behind the nearby tree. Mrs. Hudson tried to cheer him up but it didn’t work well and she soon left for the cab that was waiting for them.

“Um… mmm. You… you told me once that you weren’t a hero. Umm… there were times I didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this: you were the best man, and the most human… human being that I’ve ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, and so… There.” John lets out a breath, refusing to admit that it was a whimper as he steps closer to the headstone and places his fingers on top of it. “I was so alone, and I owe you so much. Okay.” John started to turn away when his gut told him to stay. That there was someone nearby, listening. He surveyed the land and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. John then stared at the headstone in front of him and a thought occurred to him. 

“No…” John tried to crush the hope that was slowly rising in his chest. He was sure it wasn’t possible. The hunter surveyed the area again and still didn’t see anything. “Please, there’s just one more thing, mate. One more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don’t… be…” John takes a breath and feels it quiver. “Dead. Would you do…?” He takes another breath, beginning to feel ridiculous. “Just for me, just stop it. Stop this.” John then turns away to head back to the flat with Mrs. Hudson, never seeing the one and only consulting detective shed a tear for his friend. Never seeing the longing to just walk over and hug his doctor. Never seeing the sadness in Sherlock’s eyes.