Archive of Our Own ^beta

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From the Blog of John H. Watson

15 February

So my therapist has suggested I expand on something from my last blog post, and seen as this entire blog was her idea I figure I should listen to her. It seems I was a bit vague on talking about how Sherlock proved my limp was psychosomatic, given I’ve known from day one that the pain shouldn’t really be there, and that I shouldn’t need a cane but it didn’t seem to make a speck of difference. Naturally Ella was a little confused by the statement, saying we had already established that the limp was psychosomatic.

As I said, that first night with Sherlock Holmes I found myself chasing a taxi cab through London, and by chasing I mean literally jumping across rooftops and running through alleys to cut it off. In the excitement of it all I ended up leaving my cane at the restaurant. I didn’t even notice I’d forgotten it until the owner brought it round our place.

Sherlock of course was beyond pleased with himself, up until the point we realized the flat was being ransacked by the police. That seemed to put quite the damper on his mood.

And before you ask, no, I haven’t been using my cane since. I guess Sherlock and I aren’t all that different. He needs all this excitement to keep himself entertained, I need it to keep myself sane.

But it’s not all gone.

Sherlock knew about my PTSD the moment he saw me, but I think he thought distracting me from the limp would somehow make everything else disappear as well, but it didn’t. He seems to have deleted the fact that it is a serious issue, he can’t just make it go away.

He’s rather understanding though, in his own way of course. The only thing that seems to still be bothering me is the nightmares. Most of the time they’re from the day I was shot, but there are other ones… Things that shouldn’t be discussed on the blog anyhow. I didn’t actually know Sherlock knew I was still having them till last night.

It was probably around 3 am when I woke up. I don’t remember the whole nightmare, but I know I’d probably been calling out for one of my soldiers. Rodriguez. He didn’t make it, that was the same day I was shot. Anyways, I woke up in a right panic and I sat up in my bed.

Sometimes when I wake from these nightmares it literally feels like I’m drowning in the sand, like I can’t really grasp reality. I’ll lie down and slip back into the nightmare, making a sort of cycle. When I first woke up I heard a scuffling down stairs. Now my automatic reaction was to go check it out, I was already on alert, but then the music started. I didn’t recognize it. I don’t know my classical music that well, but I’m fairly certain it was one of Sherlock’s own compositions. It was indescribable really.

The amazing thing was I was able to sleep, and it was probably the most peaceful sleep I’ve managed since I’ve came home from Afghanistan. Three nights of hearing me having nightmares and he figured out how to sooth them. It’s amazing..

And then this morning I came down stairs and he’s just sitting in his armchair in nothing but a sheet with a smug look on his face, like he’s so proud. It was the first night I’d slept through majority of the night. I’m sure he could tell, from the way I walked or how long I yawned or something else absolutely ridiculous.

I mean he didn’t say anything, so I suppose he could have just been practicing at three in the morning, but there was something in his look that told me otherwise. That and the fact that I’m upstairs now writing this blog entry, but I told him I was going to bed. He started playing again a few minutes ago. I think I’ll open my door so I can hear it better.

I don’t think I’m going to post this entry, definitely too much fuel for Harry. I’ll just email it on to Ella instead. I’m sure she’ll have a great time analyzing it.

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5th April

So things have been a bit different since The Great Game case. To be honest I didn’t see this coming at all, I mean Sherlock tries to convince everyone that he’s this unfeeling thing, but that’s obviously not true at all. In reality I think he is actually more sensitive than most and it’s because of that he works so hard to protect himself. Does that make any sense? I think it does, though I’m sure he’d argue against it until the end of time

Anyways, if you read the last blog entry then you know how I got kidnapped by Moriarty and all of that madness. Well, since then things seemed to have changed here at Baker Street. Needless to say, Sherlock never picked up the milk or the beans he’d promised before all this happened. So the day after the whole pool thing I come downstairs to let him know I’m heading to Tesco and he jumps to his feet, saying he’s coming with me. I actually froze for a moment, just staring at him.

He, of course, is acting like it’s totally normal. Saying he’s not doing anything odd at all, but that’s a complete lie.

Sherlock Holmes has only ever done the shopping when he’s thought it would make me forgive him for whatever ridiculous experiment he’d done most recently(To be fair, it does normally work), or to get on my good side before doing something utterly insane. In short, if he does something helpful you can almost always bet there is some sort of ulterior motive behind it. He’s incredibly self serving and it would be naive to think otherwise.

So why did I find myself escorted to work this morning by a rather surly detective?

Honestly, I think he’s scared. Like I said last week, when he showed up at the pool it seemed like I was able to see under that mask of his for just a moment. As much of a game as this is to him, he does realize that lives are at stake, at least when they are the lives of people he considers important, and he does care.

Hopefully he stops following me around so closely though. I mean he can’t possibly hope to follow me forever to ward off Moriarty’s next attack, right?

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**Posted at 1943 15th April 2011**

**Removed by remote desktop at 1952 15th April 2011**

I have removed your latest blog post, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from sharing such intimate details of our life John. SH

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I guess this will just be another unpublished post. I haven’t been seeing my therapist, so I feel a bit like a teenage girl keeping these. Oh well, nothing else for it I suppose.

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April 7th

Alright. So I know I can’t really post this, considering Sherlock deleted my last post, but since I saved that last post I might as well finish it off and save this as well. I haven’t seen Ella since the end of February, so I don’t think I’ll be sharing these with her either.

My god I’m keeping a bloody journal.

Sherlock’s not following me around any more. He’s also no longer speaking to me. He wasn’t particularly pleased with what I had to say about him following me around, especially the bit about him actually caring about people. That being said, that wasn’t what made him stop following me around. Last night he decided to follow me and Sarah out on yet another date. That was definitely the last straw.

I think the worst part that was once we saw him he tried to act like it had just happened by coincidence, which of course it hadn’t. I mean for God’s sake, I’d just written the blog post about him following me everywhere the day before that. It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed.

Of course Sarah, bless her, she just invited him to come sit and have dinner with us. Two guesses as to who I went home with.

Give you a hint, it wasn’t Sarah.

Anyways, so we had quite a row last night. Lots of yelling and attempting to explain to Sherlock exactly why he isn’t allowed to manipulate all of my time. For once I wasn’t the one that stomped off to avoid the argument. I was in the middle of a sentence and he just turned around and walked straight back into his room. He still hasn’t come back out.

I don’t know… I’m having some difficulties with what I’m doing with Sherlock. I mean I definitely enjoy our life together. It works, if that makes sense. We’re both a little off compared to regular blokes. I need the rush and danger that is running with Sherlock Holmes, and he needs someone to run with him to save his arse every time he get’s himself into trouble.

The thing that’s bothering me is, what happens in the future? I mean I always imagined I’d settle down eventually. Have a family, a dog, the whole show, but I don’t know any more. I honestly don’t see how romance fits into this new life I’ve etched out of 221b Baker Street. The only thing more frightening to me then that fact is that I think I’m rather alright with that. I’m okay spending the rest of my life chasing Sherlock Holmes to God only knows where.

I sound ridiculous don't I? I've only known the man a few months. No matter. I'm sure he'll grow bored of me eventually. He loses interest in everything given enough time.

That being said, he’s still pissed with me and I with him. Perhaps I’ll take Sarah and I on a holiday. I’ve got a friend back in New Zealand I’ve been promising to visit for ages. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.

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April 30th

So I’m back from holiday. I was gone a total of two weeks and I received no less than two dozen texts from Sherlock. I’m not exactly sure how, but he didn’t even notice that I was gone. I mean hell, I told him. It was on the blog. I was gone for two weeks! How can someone be so wrapped up in their own bloody mind that they don’t notice their flatmate is gone?

And the texts. It wasn’t like he was asking where I was or anything. No, they were all him being his normal pompous self. Three were him asking for me to bring him a pen. About half were requests for me to pick up stuff from the shop whenever I came home. One was about a witness he wanted me to go talk to.

I just don’t understand him sometimes. I mean yeah, he’s mad and I’ve known that since the day we met(did I mention he was cropping a corpse that day?), but some days I just can’t stand him.

This would probably be a good point to mention Sarah left me. We sort of acted like it was a mutual decision, but we both know what it was. I can’t have a serious relationship, not with Sherlock in my life. And I get that it’s my choice, to let Sherlock’s insanity rule my life, but it doesn’t mean it’s an easy one. Doesn’t exactly help that everyone seems to have this insane idea that we’re together. And I mean I suppose it isn’t too far of a leap, two blokes living together at our age, but when you go through what him and I have together there’s just this sort of camaraderie that can’t be beat.

Does that mean we’re something other than flatmates? Friends? I don’t know. I don’t know what it means, and there’s no shame in that as far as I’m concerned. But for God sakes. If I was shagging my bloody flatmate, which I wouldn’t because I’m not gay, there is no way in fucking hell I’d tell you lot.

And yet again I have another entry that I can’t post. This is getting ridiculous. I swear my life just keeps getting madder and madder. I sort of thought things would calm down when I came back, what with all that nasty business with Moriarty being over for now, but it doesn’t seem like anything has changed at all.

I’ll try and rewrite this tomorrow into something more presentable for the blog.

Chapter Text

You can’t post about the laptop case on your blog. SH

Why not? It’s interesting.

My work is not meant to be a source of entertainment for the masses of London. SH

You just don’t want anyone to know you melted an entire laptop to stop the connection before you even considered wiping the drive or TURNING IT OFF.

I will not hesitate to delete the post. SH

Before anyone sees it? You can’t melt the internet Sherlock.

No, but I can melt your laptop while you’re at the surgery if you keep insisting on broadcasting every thought that goes through your mind. SH

Why Sherlock Holmes is never allowed to touch my laptop again

So, as promised, the case of the melting laptop. This was actually before the whole Tilly Briggs nonsense, and I think you’ll all enjoy it.

The case itself wasn’t all that exciting, we were supposed to be helping someone who thought they were being stalked. They were, and the stalkee now has a restraining order against their ex who was stalking them. See Sherlock thought it was much more sinister than that.

He had himself convinced that this was somehow tied into something a lot bigger than a normal old stalker(that’s normal? What has my life come to), but it really wasn’t. So he figured out that the stalker had somehow managed to get a tracker on her computer through some sort of virus. Basically he could remotely access her computer. Emails, twitter, everything. He could even turn on her webcam without turning on the little light on there, so she’d have no idea.

None of this is particularly out of the norm for a stalker, but Sherlock had already decided that it was something more sinister and was apparently taking no chances. So, instead of doing the easy thing and turning off the computer, or using the data to trace back to the stalker, he threw the computer into her fireplace. Just tossed the entire thing right into the flames.

To be fair to him, the client had a very high profile job, and it was totally reasonable to think that if they’d managed to bug her computer that they could be collecting info at any time, for God knows what reason, but still.

You should have seen the look on her face as her laptop crackled and popped in the flames.

Moral of the story, if Sherlock Holmes is on the case hide your laptops.

Hopefully I’ll have the Tilly Briggs case written up before Sherlock manages to take this one down.

**Posted at 1518 30th May 2011**

**Removed by remote desktop at 1521 30th May 2011**

Three whole minutes. I’m sure some of our more avid readers still managed to read it.

Is it your goal in life to disparage my methods? SH

You’re just mad I’m showing people that you’re human.

Don’t be an idiot John, it’s off putting. SH

Right.

Dinner? SH

Oh no, I wouldn’t want to be off putting.

Mrs. Hudson’s made pot roast. She reminded me again she’s not our housekeeper, but insists we need a home cooked meal. SH

Home cooked meal, I’d nearly forgotten what that was.

Yes. Apparently take away, tea, and biscuits isn’t a proper diet. I tried telling her you’re a doctor and know how to keep the both of us healthy, but she didn’t seem to believe me. SH

Can’t imagine why. I’ll be down when I’m finished with the Tilly Briggs write up.

Don’t bother, they’re going to appeal. SH

So?

And how would you know that anyways?

Because I do. And when they appeal you’ll receive a cease and desist from their lawyers to protect them from being sued. SH

Fine. I’ll be down in a few, but I’m still writing up the case. That was actually a good one.

Of course John. Hurry up, your food’s getting cold. SH