Chapter Text
It was already 12pm and as the grandfather clock chimed it's tune in the clustered hallway of Johns flat, he sat motionless on his bed.
Two months. Two months positioned back in London and already his mind was racing back to the battlefront. The screams and cries of fellow soldiers and enemies ringing through his ears. The single metal bullet standing erect on his end table. He could taste it now; the metallic revolver caressing the roof of his mouth as he gently pulled the trigger and....BAM. He could end it. Right here and right now, Dr. John Hamish Watson; Captain in the 5th Northumberland fusiliers, dead by his own hand.
Three sturdy knocks on the front door jolted him from his thoughts. Running a hand through his slightly greying hair he grabbed his robe and wooden cane and dragged himself onward. Being only several steps from the door, a yellow leaflet lay faced down. Johns face scrunched up in both slight pain from his wounded arm and a light dusting of curiosity as he grabbed the paper and turned it around.
The front of the page was intricately decorated with a vine border holding several musical notes within its foliage. On the top of the page read the local pubs name and an event so posh that caused John to roll his eyes. However, a quite bold and underlined price caught his eyes with great interest and as he stared at the darkened ink of the pen he knew right away what this was. This was yet another job opportunity.