The Best Man

The End

Sherlock wasn't kept in hospital for long, due his own complaining and John's negotiations with other doctors. He didn't want to have to deal with a moping Sherlock. No one wanted to have to deal with that. John loved him, but, by God, could Sherlock complain. John hailed them a cab, and off home they went. 

''Stop messing with your stitches, Sherlock!'' he snapped, taking his hand away from the back of his head. 

''Sorry, It's distracting me. They're really annoying.''

''At least you can walk, I have to use crutches.''

''Oh, you sprained your ankle, you'll survive.''

''Yes, and you let the world's most dangerous criminal smash your head in. Was that part of your daring escape?''

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked over at John. ''Not at all, I'm just glad that we did escape. I'm also glad you're back.''

John's expression softened up a bit, and he smiled at Sherlock. ''I'm glad to be back. I'm guessing nothing in the flat's changed? Or did you move my chair again?''

Sherlock shook his head and looked back out the window. ''Chair's there. So are a few bits of clothes you left over. I couldn't bring myself to touch it.''

''Oh...Sherlock...'' John bit his lip.

''Oh, no,no,no. Not like that. I couldn't touch it, not because I was pining or anything. No, no. Because I had my suspicions about you being forced to do all that, so I thought you'd be back.''

John smiled slightly, looking at his boyfriend with amused eyes. He had missed him. Him, and his ridiculous ways of talking, of clearing up a situation, of loving John. ''So, you didn't pine for me?''

Sherlock looked around to John, eyes widened slightly. ''You don't think I pined?''

John lightly and playfully punched Sherlock's arm, sliding closer on the seat to Sherlock. ''It's called sarcasm, Sherlock.''

''Oh,'' Sherlock started smiling again. He nodded. ''I most definitely did pine for you. Lord knows, I'm an expert at this stage.''

John's smile faltered, and his hand tightened around Sherlock's arm. ''...Don't say it like that.''

Sherlock sighed and stroked a hand through John's hair. ''Sorry, that was insensitive, wasn't it?''

John tilted his head softly from side to side, lips pursed. ''Yeah, a bit, Sherlock.''

''Sorry.'' Sherlock said, reaching forward to kiss John's forehead. ''But, none of that matters now.'' he whispered, keeping close to him. ''You're back, and I think Jim's locked up for good this time.''

John nodded buoyantly. ''Yeah, you're right. Maybe we can focus on us for a while?'' he threw a bit of a coy smile at Sherlock, making the detective chuckle and blush.

Soon, they were back home, Sherlock helping John up the stairs, into their sitting room. ''Feel good to be back?'' he asked, eyes raking over John's face. No, he wouldn't say it aloud, but it was the most relieving feeling to see John in Baker Street again. He'd nearly lost that man too many times. But, now, Sherlock was sure, it would never happen again. They were in this for life, and they had been, really since day one. Since John pulled that trigger and saved Sherlock's life. Since Sherlock texted 'Could be dangerous'.

John smiled, pointing a finger at Sherlock and chuckling a bit. ''You've got that face on you. Why are you wearing ''the face''?''

Sherlock blinked, coming out of his thoughts, then rolling his eyes. ''Oh, stop it with ''the face''. It's the only one I've got.''