[It doesn't matter if it's true or not. It's galling and John can't help snapping as he throws the empty casing at the wall, regretting the harsh movement as it pulls at his ribs and sears across his shoulders.
He raises the scalpel in his hand at the television, tone going icy cold.]
If you hurt her or touch Sherlock, it's not the police you're gonna need to worry about, you fucking bastard.
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He raises the scalpel in his hand at the television, tone going icy cold.]
If you hurt her or touch Sherlock, it's not the police you're gonna need to worry about, you fucking bastard.