Chapter Fifteen

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2012

I miss fighting in your old apartment
Breaking dishes when you're disappointed
I still love you, I promise
Everything I know brings me back to us
I don't wanna go, we've been here before
Everywhere I go leads me back to you

The sound of the lock to her front door turning has her sitting bolt upright. She listens as someone shuffles in, then the woosh of the door closing quietly, the click of the handle being lifted to ensure it's closed, and the clank of the chain being hooked over.

The hall light flicks on.

"Oh my God," she sobs. "Oh my God."

"Hello."

Her mobile falls to the floor with a clatter and she's over to him in a second, her arms surrounding him. He winces and she pulls back carefully. "Oh, Christ, sorry. What have you done?"

"Bruised ribs from the airbag. I'm fine."

She looks up at him, her palms cradling his face, taking in the sight. Alice suspects it may just be the most beautiful sight she's ever seen. He's okay, he's here, he's– "You're alive."

Sherlock nods. "Just about."

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock, when I heard what happened, when the hours ticked by and you didn't show up I thought... I thought you..."

He sighs, shrugging off his coat. "I got stuck with Mycroft longer than expected. I apologise for my tardiness."

"Tardiness? I thought you were dead. I thought this reckless plan failed."

"As you can see, it didn't," he collapses on the sofa, looking up at her. He must realise the mistake he's made, the tone of his voice, because he sighs again, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I could hardly send a text informing you I was running late. I'm supposed to be dead."

Alice took a deep calming breath, moving to sit next to him. "No, obviously."

He reaches out to grasp her hand, slotting his fingers into the gaps between her own. "I am sorry. It's not going to get any easier, I'm afraid."

"What happens now?"

"I'll lay low here until dark tomorrow, then I'm off. Fighting crime, etcetera."

She laughs quietly, shaking her head. "Like bloody Batman."

"Who?"

"Never mind. I spoke to John."

Sherlock's whole body tenses. "How was he?"

"Not great," she says sadly. "He's confused, and obviously upset, but... he was still with it, he helped me when– I mean, I was... I was a wreck anyway, so I wasn't exactly helping him, and you told me to stay put, so..." she can feel the tears threatening once again. "When he told me what happened I thought something had gone wrong. I– I might've panicked a bit, the thought of you laying on the– the concrete–"

"Alice," his thumb brushes over her knuckles. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't of told you–"

"And let me believe you were actually gone? No. Don't you dare," she says sharply, tears brimming over and leaking out of her eyes. "Don't you dare."

"Alright," he says softly, sitting himself upright. He moves his hand to hold her face. Alice closes her eyes, turning into his touch. "Alright. I'm alive, Alice. I'm right here."

She opens her eyes to find him so close she can feel the exhales from his nose on her skin. "Sherlock," her voice is quiet, frightened. "Sherlock."

"What is it?"

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