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come up to meet you, tell you i'm sorry.
Aug. 16th, 2019 04:03 am[ He's armed himself with a full bottle of Scotch. A full bottle of Scotch and the autopsy report that sweet, loyal Bridget has secured him a copy of, although via round-about channels, because doctors don't show these things to relatives, do they? They've got ethics. Well, John's got a crying need, so surely that takes precedence, he thinks.
The bed creaks underneath him as he shifts, turning another page of the file. At this point he's given up on tumblers, is drinking straight out of the bottle. Sherlock died of extensive mutilation to several limbs (not one, not two, not three), blunt-force trauma to his lower abdomen, incipient blood poisoning and necrosis in his amputated hand (the original cut definitely administered by someone with medical training, after that they got lax). Judging by his injuries, he's been tortured for a month, give or take, probably more give than take -- and John remembers, it's about the same amount of time he's known Khan, he can do the math -- that while Sherlock barely survived, John -- fucked someone else, kissed someone else, came for someone else.
Taking another swing of the bottle, he turns to the next page. It's obvious that they could have saved him, at the hospital. It's even more obvious that someone didn't want them to. John pauses, reads over the words again and again and again.
Another swing.
Another page. ]
The bed creaks underneath him as he shifts, turning another page of the file. At this point he's given up on tumblers, is drinking straight out of the bottle. Sherlock died of extensive mutilation to several limbs (not one, not two, not three), blunt-force trauma to his lower abdomen, incipient blood poisoning and necrosis in his amputated hand (the original cut definitely administered by someone with medical training, after that they got lax). Judging by his injuries, he's been tortured for a month, give or take, probably more give than take -- and John remembers, it's about the same amount of time he's known Khan, he can do the math -- that while Sherlock barely survived, John -- fucked someone else, kissed someone else, came for someone else.
Taking another swing of the bottle, he turns to the next page. It's obvious that they could have saved him, at the hospital. It's even more obvious that someone didn't want them to. John pauses, reads over the words again and again and again.
Another swing.
Another page. ]
