Needing You

Really There

When John woke up, Sherlock was gone. Gone where? John frantically searched the flat, only to find nothing. Nothing at all. Not a note, not a voicemail, nothing. Without noticing, John began to breathe faster.
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"Goodbye, John."
"SHERLOCK!" the coat flapping in the wind as John ran to the body. Feeling for a pulse that he knows will not be there despite his desperate, pointless hope that maybe, just maybe, Sherlock had survived. People were trying to drag him away. Away from his Sherlock.
"I'm his friend," he would later find out he whispered.
"I'm his friend." He would remember wishing that Sherlock could be alive so they could be something more.
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John jumped back from the flashback to that terrible, terrible moment. Sherlock was still not there. Where was he? Had he decided John was boring him? Had he finally given up? or worse, had Sherlock never come back at all? It had been less than a month. John could tell Sherlock had gone through all the possible reactions that he might have. Although, he does think Sherlock was surprised when John's reaction was to kiss him senseless.
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"Not... dead." Before either Sherlock or John really understood what was happening, John lips crashed into Sherlocks, right in front of Mary, John's date of the week. She grimaced and pouted, but John could not give less of a shit. Because Sherlock was here. And as long as Sherlock is here, John will continue to kiss him until their bodies merge and they are one person. John tried to convey everything he had ever wanted to tell Sherlock during those two years into that kiss, still not believing that he was really, truly back.
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That kiss was nice. So were all the following kisses that had happened in the month since. Where was Sherlock? John sank into his chair, trying, trying, trying to remember where Sherlock had gone. Had he said anything? No. Or maybe he did, and John just didn't remember. Think, John, think!
"John?" Sherlock! Where were you?
"I just left to get the shopping, figured I'd surprise you." He noticed John's pale face.
"John?" Without really thinking, John ran over to Sherlock and buried his head in Sherlocks shoulder before kissing him as senseless as he did that day when he returned, trying to reassure himself that the man in front of him is really there. Sherlock kisses him back, trying to promise John that he really is.