Warnings (entire story): Strong Language, male/male relationships, and relationships between teens. Please note that in Australia the age of sexual consent is 16 and that is maintained throughout this story.
A/N: So this continues on five years down the line from where Gradual Twists finished. The whole story is dedicated to BEST GUEST EVER and charlotte . eliot . 3 who answered my call at the end of Gradual Twists and gave me over 180 possible B word endings together.
You guys rock!
As always you can get updates on all my fanfiction dealings at laurenagarret DOT tumblr DOT com
The sand got in every crevice and nine times out of ten John would wash it out of places that were completely covered; but he was in Afghanistan and it was generally one big giant sand bowl. Sherlock like to remind him of that fact during their few and far between Skype chats during John's brief moments of down time between checking on patients.
Things were coming to a point where the nation's population would greet them with smile and waves instead of guns and grenades and it was a change that John was more than happy to welcome as it gave him that small amount of hope that he would return home in the same amount of pieces that he had arrived in.
It was this sense of false hope that caused the patrol that he was in to become too at ease and forgetful.
It was this sense of false hope that had them ducking and running for cover with the rest of the small village.
It was this sense of false hope that had him bent over a comrade trying to protect his body from sand and dirt as the Taliban fought against them with mortar attacks.
It was this sense of false hope that had caused the side of John's face to be caked with dry blood.