John Watson was many things. A soldier and a Doctor by profession. A little brother. A friend. He was a survivor; some might even say a hero.

There were those who knew him to be a man of honour and quiet unflinching courage. Those who knew of his passion and his honesty. Even those who knew John Watson was not to be messed with.

There were those very few that knew somewhere inside there was a bewildered little boy who was still trying to figure out how the world and everything in it worked.

Even fewer than that, a minority of one in fact knew the truth of John Watson. John Watson was the man that you could rely on every time. John Watson was the man that would face down every bullet, every bomb, every fist, everything anyone threw at him. John Watson would always be the last man standing at your side.

John Watson was Kipling's thousandth man. And the only one that knew it was Sherlock Holmes.

ONE man in a thousand, Solomon says.
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it's worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend
On what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth Man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin you.

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for 'ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go
By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.

But if he finds you and you find him,
The rest of the world don't matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.

You can use his purse with no more talk
Than he uses yours for his spendings,
And laugh and meet in your daily walk
As though there had been no lendings.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man he's worth 'em all
Because you can show him your feelings.

His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men's sight
With that for your only reason!

Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot - and after!

A/N: The Thousandth Man belongs to Rudyard Kipling.