Alone on Baker Street

Chapter Three

"Were you watching me when I fell in the graveyard?"

Sherlock looked down with an expression of guilt. "Yes, I was. It was the first day I had been back in London. I didn't plan on returning until the day after, which would have been today, but when I saw you in the graveyard I had no choice."

"So, you carried me into the emergency room and sat by my bedside. That's what the nurse told me." John had a small smile on his face.

Sherlock nodded. "It was the least I could do for all the harm I caused you."

"You "died" to save my life."

"Yet, in that process, you nearly died."

At this moment, Tara walked in with another metal tray. It contained some dry scrambled eggs, bacon, and a carton of milk. "Eat," Tara politely urged John, and left.

John tried a bite of the eggs, but nearly spat it out. "Bloody awful," he said, setting his fork down.

Sherlock had a look of mild concern on his face. "John, please, you need to eat. Look at how thin you are."

"Sherlock, I'll be fi--"

"No, you won't be fine. Not if you keep up eating like you have been. Please, John, I know hospital food is usually repulsive, but eat. For me."

John sighed and picked up his fork again. "Alright."

Sherlock smiled a genuine smile. "Thank you."

____________________

An hour later, John was permitted to go home, with the strict warning that he needs to eat three solid meals a day, and drink a lot of water. Now that Sherlock was back, this wouldn't be a problem for him.

Sherlock was first to the door of their flat, and as he turned the key in the lock, John heard a small, content sigh escape from his lips. Sherlock swung the old door open and took a large step inside.

"It's great to be back," he said to John with a grin.

It was strange. Sherlock was usually antisocial for the most part, and he didn't smile very much. He usually wasn't very gentle or caring towards the feelings of others. What had happened in those two years that changed him so much?

John snapped back into reality when he heard his name. "John, did you hear me?"

"Sorry, what was that?"

Sherlock was at John's laptop. Normally, that bugged John, but today it was wonderful. "I asked why you stopped your blog."

John paled. "Did you, um, did you read the post?"

"Yes, I did."

"What did you...think?"

"It was very heartwarming. Thank you."

John let go of his breath. He was hoping Sherlock didn't deduce John's love for him through that post, or something crazy like that.

"Yeah, um, no problem."

Sherlock stood up and walked over to John. He stood right in front of him, their faces inches apart, as he looked down at John with those beautiful blue-green eyes.

John audibly caught his breath, and cursed himself in his head for doing so. Sherlock reached down and held John's hand in his own, all the while observing his blogger with a curious look in his eyes. What was he doing?

"Elevated pulse. Dilated pupils. Irregular breathing. John Watson, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were in l--"

All of the sudden, there was a knock at the door.

John jumped about twenty feet back from Sherlock, the knock startling him. "I'll get it," Sherlock said, annoyed. "But you need to sit down and rest."

John made his way over to the couch as Sherlock swung open the door.

Mrs. Hudson dropped her tray of tea. "SHERLOCK!"

The annoyed expression disappeared from Sherlock's face instantly, and he brought Mrs. Hudson into a gentle hug. "Look what you've done to the rug!" he said, jokingly.

"I'll just go get two cups of tea instead. Sherlock Holmes, back from the dead! Look what you've done to John. He's practically glowing." she beamed at the two boys and left to go get another tray.

John reddened, and averted his gaze from Sherlock's until Mrs. Hudson came back with a new tray of tea.

"Here you go, dear. Just the way you like it."

Sherlock uncharacteristically smiled, and accepted the tea. He lifted the other teacup and saucer and brought it over to John, sitting on the couch.

John gingerly sipped the tea, and the taste surprised him. It had been a year or more since he had indulged in the pleasant warmth he can get from a nice cuppa.

Mrs. Hudson hugged Sherlock again, and then headed back to her flat, humming a sweet tune.

"You've really made her happy, Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded with a small smile. He looked as if he was about to say something, but apparently changed his mind as he saw a small black case by the windowsill. "Ah! My violin." he removed the beautiful instrument from its case and stroked the polished wood. He then delicately picked up the bow and lifted the violin to his chin.

John sighed happily as he began to hear Sherlock play. He was playing John's favorite song, a sweet but intricate melody.

John eventually closed his eyes, and nodded off, still sitting upright on the couch. It was the first peaceful sleep he'd had in two years.