Coming Home (Johnlock)

Chapter One - Returning

"Dead, dead, dead, dead..."

The middle aged man wandered around mumbling the same word over and over again,

"Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead..."

He still wouldn't come to terms with the fact his best friend was dead,

"Dead, dead, dead, dead..."

He wandered round his flat packing, it had been two weeks, he still wouldn't admit it,

"Dead" he whispered

"HOW CAN YOU BE BLOODY DEAD"

He lost his angered, throwing the box across the room, tears fell down his face as his sank to the floor.

"JOHN?" An elderly lady ran upstairs worry clear on her face "John? What's wrong?"

He sobbed and pulled himself up

"How can he be dead, Mrs Hudson? Why did he have to die?" John whispered

"Because it was his choice, a great man like that, he wouldn't do it if it wasn't the last option"

John nodded but didn't speak

"Leaving?"

He nodded again

"I'm sorry Mrs Hudson, I need it get out of here, away from him"

"I understand"

*almost 2 years later*

A middle aged man stood in a graveyard, he posture no longer straight as he leaned on a cane, his psychosomatic limp had returned, his life slowly, returning to normal, to how it was without him, tomorrow he returned to his job in St. Bart's

"My last visit today"

He patted the headstone

"I still miss you but I can't move on, not if I keep coming here"

A single tear fell

"So Sherlock Holmes, wanna know the news?"

A slight smile appeared on his face,

"I got my job back, Mycroft stopped harassing me, luckily cause I swear to god I receive another text or call off him I'll shoot him, Lestrade visited, he apparently he found someone, nobody knows who, and last but not least, Harry got back with Clara, apparently she's stopping her drinking"

He rested her hand on the headstone again

"I miss you, we all do, to many idiots out here Sherlock, Anderson keeps telling Lestrade stories about how you faked your death and you have to be alive, you finally done it Sherlock, you broke Anderson, he's still an idiot, but not as bad."

A rustling noise distracted him

"Damn kids, look at me, I'm rambling, just so I don't have to leave, I wish I didn't have to, but it's not healthy, I wish I could speak to you one last time, but this is it."

John spun on his heel and walked away, slamming the gate as he left.

*some months later*

Christmas was in a week and John had invited Molly, Greg and of course Mrs Hudson, he'd tried to invite Greg's new partner but no luck, he even tried Mycroft but he said something about the government needing his help, he spent the final week shopping for gifts, for Molly he had got a cat, it sounded stupid but she was obsessed with owning a cat, for Greg he had bought him a book, 'How To Not Be An Idiot' he thought of Sherlock when he got it but shook the thought away, and Mrs Hudson he had got her a china tea set, he continued to walk throughout the store and something caught his eye, out of stupidity he bought it.

Christmas Eve arrived and John had grabbed his cane and walked, he didn't know where he was going and he didn't care, but soon he realised where his feet was taking him and he smiled, he was glad the gift was still in his pocket, he had arrived at the graveyard in no less than thirty minutes, walking straight to the grave,

"What happened to the last vist? Hmm, I never stick to my own plans, do I? I got you a gift, I don't know why, you're dead, you always will be, but to me you are alive and will continue to live on in my heart"

John pulled out a perfectly wrapped gift, with a bow on, he placed it on the ground in front of his headstone,

"Wanna know why? It's a secret, always has been, but I think Sherlock, I think I may... l...l...love you" his own words shocking him,

"Why am I not surprised?"

John jumped, he never said that, he spun on his heels and faced a man, than man was talking than John, he had brown curly hair, sharp cheekbones, Cupid bow lips and ocean coloured eyes,

"Sherlock?" John was surprised to say the least

"What? You didn't really think I was dead, did you?"

At this moment John didn't know whether to hug him or kill him,

"You bastard, of course I thought you were dead, you jumped off a building"

Sherlock looked at John making quick deductions, mostly noticing the limp, and knowing it was his fault,

"I...I...I'm sorry, John please, forgive me?"

It shocked John momentarily, the reason because a) Sherlock said sorry b) said please and c) asked for fogiveness

John stepped forward, and again, he kept going till he stood in front of Sherlock, he raised his hand slowly, like he was going to touch his face, but he pulled back and slapped Sherlock, full force

"Sorry I had to make sure you were real"

John grasped Sherlock into a tight hug and a moment later Sherlock hugged back,

"I'm sorry I left"

"It's okay, just don't do it again, please"

"I promise"

The two men stood embraced for five minutes until John pulled away blushing,

"So Sherlock, it's Christmas tomorrow"

"I know, I've got you a gift, I was gonna come back today whatever happened"

"So wanna surprise Greg, Molly and Mrs Hudson?"

"Well umm... Molly already knows"

"Why?"

"I needed help or I would've had to die"

"Okay, that's all I need to know, so would you like to come to my flat and surprise them tomorrow?" John asked cautiously

"You're flat?"

"Yeah I moved from Baker Street"

"Wanna go back"

"I'd love to"

"C'mon then"

John grabbed Sherlock's arms and pulled him along

"No wait"

Sherlock ran back and picked up the gift John had left

"Can't forget this, can we?"

John blushed "It's stupid"

"No it's not, is it?"

John smiled and started to walk ahead, after five feet Sherlock caught up and placed his hand in John's walking side by side.

They spent three hours quietly moving everything back into the flat in Bake street without waking up Mrs Hudson and at around 11pm they sat down

"I've missed you" John whispered

"Missed you to" Sherlock replied

Sherlock began to argue about John going up to his room as it was pointless and his room was closer. After an hour of arguing the two men ended up sharing the double bed.