info;
JOHN H. WATSON, M.D.
Sherlock Holmes, 2009 Movie Verse. (Usually) taken from prior to the film.
Abilities/Weaknesses:
Watson is not only a skilled medical man but rather a force to be reckoned with if one belongs to the sinister underworld of crime within London. Watson was trained in the military, and knows how to throw punches like the best of them, with room for sword fighting and fine marksmanship to boot. However, his talent for these things is hindered slightly by wounds suffered during his time within the army, one in his shoulder and the other in his leg, the latter being the more prominent of the two. He can walk short distances without his cane, but sooner or later he’ll have to resort to utilizing the tool, however doing so with as much pride as he can muster.
His weaknesses lie in being only human, with addictions and faults like the rest of us. Watson has been known to fall into gambling, sometimes with such disastrous results as losing all of his saved off rent money to a poorly judged night of bets. Sherlock Holmes, too, can be seen as a weakness of Watson’s and that- that is an entirely different story altogether.
Watson takes it upon himself to care for Holmes’ wellbeing, be it due to his status as a doctor, Holmes’ own disregard, or simply because he cares for the man. Whichever reason his nurturing attitude stems from Holmes has thanked him with a gracious nickname of “mother hen.” It fits well, and as much as he dislikes the notion of having to mother another human being, he recognizes its validity. Both Holmes and Watson alike drop everything for the other, whether Watson wants to admit to it or not.
Following this man and his bloody cases is like an addiction, perhaps, far deeper than what he experienced for gambling.
Psychology/Personality:
To anyone not named Sherlock Holmes, John Watson is an exceptional gentleman. True to the expectations of the Victorian era, Watson is straight-laced and neat (the latter also deriving from his time in the military), treating the patients of his medical practice with easy kindness. He seems to be infinitely tolerant, not as much as a hint of annoyance ever crossing his fair features, even when presented with difficult situations or most people. To women, he is positively charming, whether or not they are formally courting - though to some, he is known to be rather too delighted to be in the presence of a woman, rumored as something of a womanizer. Even so, he is a pleasant addition to any formal dinner party… whenever he is actually available to partake in such luxuries of society.
For you see, Watson has a particularly eccentric housemate to contend with, one for whom Watson must constantly excuse and apologize for. The only cracks in Watson’s stiff, patient Victorian gentleman façade are made by the one and only Sherlock Holmes, who does so with a swelling pride. Holmes knows each and every button upon the man to push for a reaction, which ones to push first depending on the argument, or just smash them all at once, akin to a child pressing each button in an elevator. Watson reacts differently to this sabotage depending on if he and Holmes are alone or not; if not, Watson doesn’t necessarily slip, just cracks as mentioned before. His mouth will thin, he might take a few deep breaths, and maybe he’ll show it in the eyes - but only if you’re looking for it.
If the two are alone, Watson will be cross, he will chastise, he will argue, he will laugh at this insane housemate of his who he simply cannot live with daily but does, because deep down he knows he can’t really live without him, either. Holmes is one of the only people who are privy to see Watson unguarded, not always as prim and proper as he is to everyone else. That is not to say that Watson is fake around these other people, just that his subconscious lets him know that he can relax, to a point, around Holmes - because even Watson on his worst day is no where near how bad the detective himself can get, and the good doctor will, no matter what, look the part of a proper gentleman in comparison.
Within the apartment, Watson can relax and let his emotions rise and fall in plain sight, for he knows Holmes well enough to understand that if he were to feel particularly annoyed but try and cover it with smiles, the detective would know him to be the former regardless. One cannot lie to Sherlock Holmes, so Watson doesn’t bother hiding when he is alone in Holmes’ company, which is frequent. In his fascination for the science of deduction and the way in which Holmes analyzes a crime scene, Watson finds himself dragged along for the majority of the man’s cases. Often times the doctor is Holmes’ springboard, to whom he can bounce ideas back and forth to, test that he is on the right track, test that his logic is sound (which it almost always is). Loathe as he might be to admit it (though he can’t exactly deny it, either), Watson is not anything close to Holmes’ intellectual equal, but the knowledge that he is nevertheless his confidant and valuable ally is enough to keep the doctor fulfilling his role as Holmes’ closest companion, one with whom he shares all things and, in a way, takes under his tutelage.
But boy does Holmes grate on his every nerve. Not only does the man, as aforementioned, push each and every one of the doctor’s proverbial buttons, but the man has such self-destructive tendencies when not on a case - even sometimes while on a case, ranging anywhere from forgoing meals (or sleep) for days, throwing himself into a boxing match against people larger and tougher than him (and still winning, though not without sores to last the week), or, and this is Watson’s most loathed of all pastimes, taking a needle to his skin, liquid cocaine entering his bloodstream. It infuriates the man, not just because he is a doctor but because he is this man’s friend above all else, and it pains him more than he cares to admit to watch the detective try his best to destroy himself out of sheer boredom. Watson knows it will pass, it always does, but it certainly does smart knowing very well that absolutely nothing he can say will keep Holmes from doing it when the fancy strikes him.
Not that Watson is without his own vices, much to his chagrin, and his bad habits have cost the two their rent more than once in the doctor’s time staying at 221B Baker Street. He is a gambler - no, was, because he likes to think he’s put that all behind him. He’s been doing well, especially after Holmes took it upon himself to lock Watson’s savings safely away in a drawer in his room. As much of a “mother hen” Holmes believes Watson to be, the detective’s safekeeping of the man’s funds shows that, in a way, he very much returns the favor. The two watch out for each other, protecting the other from all manner of criminal or from their own selves and the vices that plague them. They are two very human young men who lead extraordinary lives (or rather, one lives it on occasion and drags the other along to experience it, too), who watch each other’s backs and know each other inside and out, powers of deduction not entirely necessary. They offer insight and new ideas, listening to each other when no one else can get through.
In short, Watson is a Victorian doctor set in realism constantly thrust into unreal situations wherein he must think and act as fast as the man who drags him along for the ride, as much as he possibly can. He is inherently kind to strangers and well-to-do patients alike, and not fake in the least, although he does readily shrug off the expectations of society while in the comfort of his own home. He is emotional, capable of being positively wound up in fascinated admiration of a person one moment and in the next wondering why he even bothers anymore. He has flaws like anyone else, but is well aware of them, as well as his limitations… unlike some. Due to his time in the military, he is also a capable fighter, which bodes well when he is constantly pitted against the criminal underworld of London. He will stand his ground and not take no for an answer, no matter what.
Well, unless your name is Sherlock Holmes, and then it just gets complicated all over again.
History:
John Watson, like any young doctor, had dreams of being responsible for miraculous recoveries and bringing people back from the brink of death, all romantic glory and none of the gore. He found nothing glorious in his medical service while in Afghanistan, enlisted in the military, finding instead death and loss, a shattered shoulder and a leg so maimed he would limp on it for the rest of his days. He contracted illness after illness in between both injuries, sometimes even before he was fully able to recover from whatever had befallen him previously. Fevers, scars, delirium and physical and emotional wounds that would never truly heal saw Watson fit to be honorably discharged from his service and sent home to London - where he knew no one.
In the busy city, he spent his days in peaceful psychological recovery and his nights in a shoddy hotel, with no other place to call his home. Sometimes - rather, far too frequently, he would against the better of his judgment spend his evenings throwing money away into unsavory bets, like boxing matches or games of chance, losing more money than he could properly gain back. To say he was “spiraling into emptiness” may be too overdramatic, but it is in fact somewhat true, with Watson’s days so filled with nothing. Quite by coincidence, however, he met up with an old acquaintance who saw that his friend was in dire need of change - and perhaps more importantly, a proper place to live. He introduced Watson to Sherlock Holmes, who out of monetary necessity, needed a roommate to share his household with.
And change Watson received. Being the one and only consulting detective, Holmes introduced him to the power of deduction, of reading the details on a person or thing or within his very own surroundings and using these particulars to unravel stories previously untold. Even though he initially doubted the nature of this science, Watson was continuously given evidence to Holmes’ particular brand of observation and how it worked, occasionally subject to the scrutiny himself. Disbelief turned to fascination and admiration, finding the doctor hinged onto each of Holmes’ accurate analysis of each and every person he’s ever laid eyes on for more than a second.
What’s more was that Holmes saw it fit to try and teach Watson the science, giving more explanation to him than perhaps was necessary and pushing him in the direction of making his own conclusions. In a sense, Watson has become capable - perhaps not nearly so well as Holmes himself (which would frankly be impossible), but he is taken along for the majority of Holmes’ cases, or at least the ones that interested the detective enough to warrant a personal approach. Watson is thrilled, at first, for the chance to be involved with Holmes’ world of facts and data and theories and excitement for shedding light on the unknown.
Thrilled for the cases, maybe, but not entirely with the man’s living habits.