John Watson

He'd heard talks when he was little. Bloodlines are important, purity more so. He remembers his father telling him this. Remembers his mother crying a little and his sister yawning. She's the first born. She's the special one. The contract is written and John, barely old enough to hold a pen much less write his name, is told to make his mark on the line labeled 'collateral.' He doesn't understand it but he draws a little Mickey Mouse head, one ear lopsided. He remembers a man with a long nose and a weasel-like face smiling with a pinched expression at him and saying something along the lines of: "well" and "that will do, I'd imagine."

After that, childhood memories resumed like normal. He remembers a few unhappy moments, centred mostly around puberty when all he wanted to do was fight anything that moved and join the Army when he was just a bit older. And he remembers times when his mother would be gone for a week here or there. Always on 'business' though she was a housewife by trade and cultivated flowers for fun.

When he'd gotten old enough to ask properly, his parents sat him down and told him of their alliance, ancient and sacred, of how their family stood in as surrogates for what could well be the entirety of the human race. He'd not believed it at first and even scoffed at the explanation. Vampires don't exist and if they did, he reasoned, it'd be easier to feed off of many people and not just one. People need months to regenerate heavy blood loss. And buying that older vampires need less blood is--

Well, far fetched.

John'd been away on his first tour of duty abroad when his sister's name was drawn and her service started. He wasn't there to meet her protector nor to watch her fall into madness over it.

Madness. Drugs. Alcohol abuse. All of these can cause impurities. All of these can ruin a candidate. It's no wonder that Clara rejected his sister in the end. Or that John was taken from the active duty roster almost immediately because of it.

The collateral was needed. Not to replace Harry exactly, for what protector would be able to stand the blood of the sibling they'd rejected? No, to serve a sentence for the failure of the Watsons to uphold their end of the bargain.

John finds himself unhooded and terrified in an old warehouse, eyes barely adjusting to the light as the weasel-like man with his squinty smile stands before him. It's been decades and the man doesn't look as if he's aged a day. John swallows and despite his terror, realization hits him hard about what this is. And why. "John. Pleasure to see you again. You've aged...well. Oh Sherlock, really. Come out here and meet your human. You really are incorrigible. Dining on rats is for children. I'll not have you sulking."

Player's Name: Jen
Contact info: plurk: substituteskull
DW: NA

Character: Doctor John Watson
Canon: Sherlock (BBC)
Version: BBC's
Canon Point: Post Series 2
Age: 40
Gender: Male



History: Many, many, links.

Personality: John is an adrenaline junky, having pursued two very high stress, high risk professions. As a man addicted to thrills, after being shot and sent home to England, John suffered through depression, keeping his Browning revolver in his desk drawer to potentially use on himself. Telling his therapist that 'nothing ever happens' to him proves just how deeply this depression and boredom took root in the months during his recovery. Having once been a skilled army surgeon, adept at battlefield triage, John is barely able to cope in civilian life. His need for dangerous situations makes him the ideal companion for Sherlock Holmes as he is not only capable of assisting him, but he also thoroughly enjoys and craves their mad adventures. John is so addicted to the danger that Sherlock's cases provide that after he lands a job at a surgery in London, he had constantly fallen asleep at his desk because of late nights running around the city solving mysteries.

John is incredibly smart, both academically and worldly, and has a heroic streak. He knows how to handle himself in dangerous and stressful situations. Though he has nerves of steel, he also is exceptionally easy going and somewhat long suffering, patient on matters that concern other people but very rarely when they concern himself. He has a high moral standard, but he is not afraid to kill if he has to in order to protect people he cares about.

He manages to be extremely open minded despite his generation. His sister is gay and an alcoholic, but their falling out had everything to do with the drinking and nothing at all to do with her sexuality. Though he is very defensive about his own, he is easy going around Sherlock, even when he figures that his new flatmate might be bringing gentlemen around. Sex is something that fills John Watson's mind as much as any other man's. As a newspaper once stated, John is a confirmed bachelor. His relationship with Sherlock, and propensity to choose him over girlfriends, tends to drive his lady friends away but that doesn't mean that he's not a natural flirt and not only eager, but sure of himself enough to openly ask attractive women out. Even if he's only just met them.

John his extremely expressive, finding it very hard to hide his emotions even if what shows on his face often conflicts with what he is feeling. Disappointment, for instance, often causes him to smile or laugh. His fascination with Sherlock can come across as worry or exasperation or outright annoyance. Though he is the sort of man to keep his opinions to himself in most situations, when he is exceptionally irritated or angry, he does speak up, often to apologize for shouted comments and his own frustration in the next breath.

John is an 'everyman' sort of person. He is bland and completely typical in his outward appearance and the way he acts. He likes sports, nights out to the pub with the lads, romance, and his career, though will put all aside to feed his need for excitement. Along with being addicted to dangerous situations, John may well be the only person alive that finds his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, to be absolutely astounding and fascinating. He has an uncanny patience for the other man, putting up with his antics when others usually flee (for instance, he barely reacts when he finds Sherlock shooting the walls, comes home on the tube covered in blood or keeps a head in the fridge). John finds Sherlock marvelous and fantastic and is very much attached to him even if they have not known each other long. He also forgives him regularly for things that no normal person would put up with, such as when Sherlock drug him for an experiment.

John has been keeping an online blog about his adventures with Sherlock, and though he professes to have little skill in storytelling, it is obvious that he enjoys reliving each case as he documents them.

Fears: John fears stagnation most of all. Being stuck out of action is probably the worst case scenario and after his return to England from active duty, the brief insinuation that he might be contemplating suicide rather than carry on with civilian life makes that chilling point. At Sherlock's graveside, John's tearful admission to being lost before Sherlock gave him reason again to live has once more made John face his greatest fear. While he is never without friends or love interests or alone, the loss of adventure and purpose has left him more crippled than all of the times he's been shot at or threatened with death.

Weaknesses: John is a normal human being in most ways (except for his ability to stand Sherlock's presence) and so his weaknesses are rather mundane. In previous works, Watson has been shown to have a gambling addiction but that does not seem present in this version. Still, it's likely in his blood. His sister is also an alcoholic and that might be in his blood too. Given the way he reacts to trauma, John might also suffer from some PTSD since Sherlock's loss and his hand shaking or limp may make an appearance now and again.

Mundane Strengths/Abilities: John is a fantastic shot with a steady hand. He managed to rise to the rank of Captain as well, making him not only a commissioned surgeon, but also an officer. He is therefore disciplined and resilient (unless Sherlock's slipped drugs in his drinks again).

Sensitivity/Magical Ability: None.

Supply List: John comes equipped with his Browning L9A1, fully loaded, a wrist watch, a horrible gran-like jumper, a wallet with various IDs, his medical license, a tenners, a clipping from a newspaper, and Sherlock pink covered iPhone.

Game Transfers: NA

Sample RP post:
This was why John did the shopping. Sherlock was like a child, distracted by shiny objects or the occasionally badly timed murder. It had been three hours since the man went out and if he did make it to Tesco in that time, the eggs and butter John requested he "try to remember to bring back" were likely going spoiled by the side of the road somewhere.

He was attempting not to nag. Mrs. Hudson told him the day before that he and Sherlock always seemed to be having a bit of a domestic, but she could tell that John really did care for him. That alone had put a stopper on John's otherwise good mood. Sherlock was married to his work. John had a girlfriend. I should bring her around more...well. No, no, likely a bad idea, she'll never understand why there's eyes in the microwave again... John let his thoughts sweep him up.

He pulled out his hand-me-down mobile and sent a text to Sherlock, telling him not to worry about the shopping, that John would pick it up himself. There. No nagging, just a bit of a control issue. Smug, he was about to slip the mobile away again when the message was bounced back, unable to be sent. He tried twice more and finally gave up and tried to ring the man instead. "We're sorry, this line is no longer active, please--"

John frowned. He wasn't worried.

Sherlock is just fine, he told himself.

As he rushed out of 221B Baker Street to hail a cab, John flinched, nose banging right into a black coat covered chest. "Watch where you're--"

John never knew what Sherlock was thinking, not even when the man gazed at him full on with eyes that anyone else would have called 'creepy.' Sometimes John thought so as well. He spotted the new mobile in Sherlock's hand and sighed. Really. Worried for nothing. Of course, the new mobile was the only thing in Sherlock's hand. John sighed and moved passed him.

"I'll be back," he muttered, brushing the worry into annoyance. "Someone needs to do the shopping."

John goes out with the tactical team, rides a wolf, meets a shoggoth and gets teleported back home by Castiel.

Sherlock wakes up!

OH GOD THERE'S ANOTHER SHERLOCK TYPE:  Greg House.

John's been puttering around doing doctor stuff and Sherlock and nothing interesting.

Until now.  Guess whose morning stroll uncovered tentacles storming the castle?

Sherlock doesn't make it out of the encounter alive.  John spends two days with his corpse before asking for help to drag him somewhere safe.  Thor, Martha and Kenzi respond to the shellshocked doctor.

Sherlock is back.  And John thinks he is hallucinating his voice.

John's still kinda of overly grinning about what happened on his birthday.  He gets a double dose of Sherlock-face for his grinning-like-a-fool trouble!  Martin and Peter are both very different from Sherlock, however, so John is not too disturbed.  Even if he does like the ginger.  Later that day, Kenzi joins in the fun since Sherlock told her all about The Kiss!  And then Veronica bugs him for information that makes him feeling fairly uncomfortable and Molly checks in about their progress on the bodies they found strewn around campus and takes the time to tell him about all of his future girlfriends...  Finally Sherlock saves him from the crazyand they go to play mad scientists

In comes the Master!  John goes to help since the poor man seems to be out of his element and recently dead.  This is not new for John.

After a bit, Elena mentions a party.  John gets Sherlock to go with him and learns the true meaning of 'friend' to the youngest Holmes.  Before the zombie attacks the party, John and Sherlock go off to have a spar at the gym and when that's finished, John returns to the scene of the party just in time to examine a still moving severed arm.

Freaked out, more at the fact that he's freaked out than at the ghouls and monsters, Sherlock comforts him. 

Finally, Peter and Mohinder come in for a visit and John tests out Mohinder's supposed photosensitivity.  Not long after they leave, he falls comatose.

John Watson is finally coming down from his addiction to that bloody book.  He has a little chat with the Dean about taking on a medical position and then with Mycroft.  Sorry, Sherlock, he sort of gave away where you're living.

He asks for a hair cut and Elle delivers, Kenzi, Gabriel and Molly also offer.  He then 'registers' he and Sherlock for Veronica's list.

John's in the house doing physicals and medical exams.  Gabriel's a great first patient.

It seems Sylar's fallen into a coma.  John responds to Cordelia about the situation but Angel won't let him in. 

He has his hands full with Kenzi and Sherlock blowing up a lab anyhow.  He takes care of Sherlock after in their suite.

Jack Harkness has also gone into coma.  Luckily, Ianto is much better at getting help.

And then a wild Shoggoth appears!  John mistakes Martin Crieff for Sherlock.

Glancing at my watch, I count the seconds in my head.  Thirty-seven to go.  The ground is a little wet and the air is a little cold.  Honestly, it's June and London can't give me a break in the weather just this once, can it?  I'm tired of the cold.  I'm tired of standing here with the sun hidden.  It ought to be bright outside.  Brilliant.  It had been on that day, after all.  Balmy, just cool enough for a light jacket.

It's not as if this is the only time I've visited, no, but it's been to see him less and less in the last year.  I don't blame myself.  Memories fade and pain, I've realized, doesn't.  Getting out of bed this morning was difficult.  The drizzling rain brought with it the pain in my shoulder, an old ache that, finally, eclipsed the one in my chest.  The calendar had mocked me but I got up just the same.  The morning schedule for today, the second anniversary of such events, started ordinarily enough with a piss and some coffee.  Then it was on to lunch with Mrs. Hudson, who was running late because her new boarders were constantly in need of her.  I hadn't minded it.  I never do.  I rang up Lestrade, but he didn't answer.  He hasn't returned my calls in two years.  That doesn't mean I stop trying.  Finally, Mycroft texted in the cab on the ride over.  'Give him my love,' was all it said and I actually laughed at it before my fingers pressed against my lips.

And now.  Ten seconds to go.

I shuffle through the new grass, trampling it, and touch the black stone with fingers that don't feel as if they can quite reach.  "One thousand, ninety-five days, Sherlock," I whisper into the quiet wind.  "You're taking your bloody time for that mi--"

Three years and I've not cried.  Oh, I've teared up plenty, my lips have trembled, but I've never just broken down.  I won't do it today either, but that's because today is different.  Today is special.  Today I lose my mind.

"I fucking hate you!" I scream as it all snaps.  "I hate you!  I hate that you were on the news this morning, anniversary of your bloody suicide!  Even now, all they do is drag you through the mud, even now and you--"  I'm wild.  I might have just fractured my hands punching all that's left of him.  "You were wrong.  You bloody, stupid idiot!  Look at that.  Look at it!  Finally, you're wrong and you proved it to yourself!  So fuck you, Sherlock Holmes!"

"It's just for the week." Sherlock has been following John around for the last few hours. "Telford's hardly that far away." He pauses, refolding a jumper. "Not that it means you're entitled to ring when you misplace something either." He moves down the stairs, bag in hand and beckons Sherlock to follow him into the kitchen. With a grunt, John tugs open the refrigerator. "Milk and eggs are fresh. Mrs. Hudson's casserole from last night is in the blue container and there's some left over Chinese in that orange one."

John slams the door shut and tilts his head up to Sherlock. It's like he's giving last minute instructions to a sitter or an older child, home alone for the first time.

John's been away for much longer before, but generally that's due to his work schedule or the few weekends Sarah's gotten him to go out to a few bed and breakfasts in the countryside. Sherlock's trips can last a week or more. And yet, there's something rather finite about this parting. John's going to meet Sarah's parents. About time, really, the wedding's in six months.

He sighs after a moment and then grins up at Sherlock.

"Don't text me. I'll be too jealous of your cases."