A/N: I just got this random idea after seeing a video of a soldier's homecoming, so I decided to write a story about it and used John. This is before he meets Sherlock, when he's just been injured and is flying back from Afghanistan. Support the troops.

John Watson limped onto the plane, wondering exactly how in the hell he was going to get his bag into the overhead. His good arm was needed to prop up his bad leg, and even if it wasn't, the pack was far too heavy to lift one handed. He didn't want to ask for help; ever since he'd been shot, it seemed like all he'd been doing was asking for help with something or other he couldn't do on his own. He was determined to do something himself, even if it was just storing his pack in the airplane's overhead compartment. After some creative use of physics, speed, and good aim, he succeeded in depositing the bag in the compartment. A flicker of a smile crossed his face. He dropped into his seat, not looking forward to the two hour flight from Germany back to England. It wasn't that it was long, it was just that quite frankly he was sick and tired of flying of any description.

A teenage girl wandered up the aisle, counting seat numbers until she came to the row John was in. She smiled at him and pushed her bag into the compartment next to his. "I think I'm sitting next to you," she told him, smiling nervously. She hopped over him awkwardly, putting her foot on the empty seat and using it as a springboard, almost knocking her head on the compartment. She dropped into her seat and smiled at him again, more confidently. "Hello, Mr. Watson, my name is Samantha." John was momentarily confused.

"How did you know my name?" She smiled brightly.

"It's on your uniform." Of course. John had gotten so used to wearing his fatigues, he hadn't even noticed he still had them on. He wasn't even slightly in a conversational mood, but he decided to do his best. He smiled back, but it wasn't much of a smile, and Samantha seemed to notice.

"I'd forgotten I had these on." He gave a slight laugh. "My name's John."

"It's nice to meet you, John. Are you just getting back?" From war was the unspoken part of that question, and John decided to answer it.

"Yeah. Afghanistan." If she was surprised by his forthrightness, Samantha did a good job of covering it up.

"I bet you're glad to be going back; get to see your family again." John winced internally at her words, thinking of Harry. Not so much… But maybe he was just being pessimistic; maybe all it took for him and Harry to speak again was a bullet wound and a serious infection. Wouldn't that be nice? John realized he hadn't responded for quite some time. He gave a flicker of a smile, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Yeah. Just glad to be out of the desert." This time, Samantha definitely noticed his false enthusiasm. She blinked at him a couple of times, looking confused.

"Do you and your family not get on?" It was an honest question, if a slightly impertinent one, and John could tell that she didn't mean anything by it. If anything, she seemed confused by the concept that someone would be on bad terms with their relations. John felt himself smiling at her optimism, just a shadow of a smile.

"Not really. It's a long story." She seemed to get even more confused.

"But surely they'll be there to welcome you back? You've just come from a war zone, how could they not?" John could swear that Samantha almost sounded offended, and he felt himself smiling again.

"Well, my parents live far out of London, and it's just my sister. She didn't want me to go, and then I got shot and I think it kind of confirmed her beliefs." He shrugged his good shoulder. "Even before that we never really got along."

"So, she's mad at you because you were shot by a terrorist?" Samantha couldn't quite get her head around that notion. She came to a decision. No, no, that just wouldn't do; how awful would it be to get back, injured, from war and not have anyone there to welcome you home? "Well, I'm glad you're back." John smiled, amused.

"But you barely even know me."

"So?" Samantha retorted. "That doesn't mean I can't be happy for you. I'm glad that you survived, and I'm happy that you finally get to go home." She sounded absolutely resolute, as if she had known John for years rather than minutes. "So what do you do in the Army?" she asked him, genuinely interested.

"I'm a doctor," he responded, then laughed shortly. "Got to enjoy the irony of the doctor getting injured. Not very good at my job, am I?" Samantha smiled slightly.

"Well, bullets aren't picky." John decided to change the subject, attempting to avoid unpleasant and rather too fresh memories.

"So, why are you in Germany? You certainly don't live here." Samantha gave a full smile.

"I'm here with my friend on a vacation. It's summer break, and she's always wanted to come here, and so my parents said I could go along. I was going to sit next to her, but the tickets got mixed up and now she's like on the other end of the plane." For the next hour and a half, Samantha rambled on about anything that occurred to her while John sat and rested. As he closed his eyes and stretched his back, Samantha stared at him. He looked… lonely. Not the way anyone should look, least of all a returning serviceman. While his eyes were still closed, she nodded once to herself decisively. Maybe he didn't get on with his real family, but that didn't mean hers couldn't adopt him for a day. No one should be alone, and she knew her family would agree to it. She just hoped John would.

When the plane arrived at the airport, John faced the slightly larger obstacle of getting his bag down. It was one thing getting it up there, but it was quite another retrieving it one handed. After several failed attempts, Samantha asked,

"Do you need a hand? I could get it down for you." Reluctantly, John said yes. He was getting right sick of having to ask for help, but in this case he had no choice. Samantha stood on her tiptoes to reach it, barely catching the heavy pack and nearly falling face first into the airplane seat. "Wow, you're strong! I can't imagine carrying that thing around all day," she gasped. John laughed and swung the bag over his good shoulder, limping his way off the plane after her. In the terminal, he stood for a while, not sure what to do with himself. Then suddenly, Samantha reappeared, looking beyond excited. She said something about 'you' 'family' and 'come on', but she was talking so fast she was incoherent.

"Sorry, what? I didn't catch that." John was confused. Samantha smiled brightly at him, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"Where are you going from here?" John laughed briefly.

"Good question." It really was a good question. He had to report to the base tomorrow at three, but until then, he… Well, he didn't really know. He'd find something. Samantha's excitement level seemed to go up a notch.

"So you're not doing anything for the rest of today?" John shook his head. "I have an idea, then! Come over here." She all but pulled on his sleeve to get him to follow her. They went over to the outside of the arrivals area, where a group of two adults and two children stood. "This is my family. This is my dad, and mum, and my two little brothers." John was now thoroughly confused, but shook hands with Samantha's parents all the same.

"It's nice to meet you," he told them. Samantha's father seemed to catch wind of his perplexity.

"Samantha, I think he is a little confused about your plan." John arched his eyebrows.

"Plan?" he asked her. Samantha gasped.

"Oh, right! Yes, I have a plan. You're in it. I was thinking, since your family isn't here and you just got back and all, if you weren't doing anything, maybe you'd like to come out to dinner with us? We can be your family for today." Samantha obviously hoped he'd say yes. John thought about it for a minute. He had literally just met these people, after all. But at the same time, it wasn't as if he had anything else to do, and Samantha was quite possibly the most guileless person he'd ever met.

"What about your friend?" he asked.

"Oh, she's already gone home; besides, I spent the last two weeks with her. We're ready to be apart from each other for a while. So will you come? I mean, I can understand if you don't want to, but…" She trailed off. John thought for a few more seconds before he reached his decision. He smiled broadly.

"I'll be glad to come, if you're sure it's not an inconvenience to have me." Samantha jumped up and down, and her little brothers cheered. Their father smiled at his kids, then turned to John, laughing.

"Sorry if Samantha kind of imposed herself on you; she has a tendency to consider anyone she's said three words to a friend." John smiled back.

"No really, it's fine. I certainly don't have anything to do." Samantha turned back to him.

"Are you ready to go?" He nodded. "Great. Let's head off then, shall we?" And with that, John followed a group of perfect strangers out the door and back into England. True, those five and he may not have been biologically related, but that day, they were a family.