part one

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John Watson was golden, or at least that's how his mother had always described him. His mother, who had held him at night when he had nightmares and when his father was particularly abusive, was his safe haven. When Harry came home one night and introduced a girl, and his father screamed, John Watson turned blue, and even his mother couldn't fix him.

Then later, after the stain of crimson blood and the blackness of death had plagued John Watson, the first man he loved told him that "he seemed to be touched by King Midas." John told him that Midas had been cursed so that wasn't the most flattering compliment, but he got a laugh out of that man anyways and then kissed that laugh away.

Then much later, John was described as "a conductor of light" by the most fantastic man he had ever known. He called that man a machine, and the machine twisted and broke apart. John Watson tried to forget about the machine, and perhaps he had only been a figment of his imagination, but then John met a woman. He cared for her. He admired her. She never seemed to think he was the golden John Watson the others knew because John Watson lived his life in a blur of grey.

The machine returned. John Watson was bright red with anger and fury, and the golden man he once knew didn't really see a future in his sight. Their adventures continued, yet John never felt the same. He was violently violet on his wedding day because he spent it with the two men he loved, yet he married the woman who turned out to be a liar and a murderer who almost killed the machine.

Maybe John Watson wasn't ever supposed to be golden again.

The machine thought otherwise.

a/n: welp. here i am. back from the dead. i absolutely cannot wait to write this lil story and i absolutely cannot wait for you guys to read it. vote and comment pls. pretty pls. luv u.

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