MaxMurderer99

Warning- contains post- Reichenbach angst/spoilers A John Watson's War fic John was sick. Not sniffles sick. Not even hacking cough or runny nose or 'I lost my voice' sick. He was sick. The kind of sick that wracks your body hot then cold, that leaves you shivering in a corner and simultaneously fearing but longing for sleep. And to make it worse, he was alone. In a shady motel. On the floor, too weak to move to the bed or the ripped chair in the corner. His hand twitched towards his phone on the table, and after what was surely way too much effort, he managed to slide it off. It hit the carpeted floor with a thud and he let it sit th