Look at Me

Look at Me-Johnlock

They can't really look each other in the eye. Or at least John couldn't look at Sherlock. It's been a week since he's been back -miraculously- from the dead. John had been spitting mad when Sherlock popped round in that restaurant like he'd never been gone. But, he had also been so intensely and blindingly relieved; Sherlock Holmes had raised himself from the dead and maybe everything was going to be alright.

Except it wasn't. Something was broken between them and John didn't even begin to know how to mend it. Actually, maybe, he did and he had a feeling Sherlock did too, but he'd be damned if he was going to bring that up of his own free will.

Now, he was looking -not for the first time- at Sherlock's chin, unable to meet his eyes. "I asked you to stop being dead," he spoke softly. He was vaguely surprised at the amount of effort it took to keep the tremble out of his voice. He shifted the grip on the cane, the one he hadn't had to carry not long after meeting Sherlock and he supposes that's where Sherlock's gaze was now. Analyzing John's dependence on the once obsolete object.

"I heard you." His voice, at least on the surface, seemed to be devoid of any emotion. But John senses an underlying tremble. John sees his Adam's apple bob as a pregnant pause stretches before them.

"...I have to go now. Mary. She's waiting for me," John's transferred his gaze to the wall behind Sherlock and manages to catch Sherlock's fist forming a tight ball before he utters a quiet 'of course'.

*************

Sherlock texts him about a case and he almost doesn't go. He doesn't want the help the man who had faked his death for two years. Who put John through hell and a series of 3 therapists. But Mary, bless her, somehow convinces him to go and John can't shake the feeling that she's going to regret thrusting him back into Sherlock Holmes' orbit.

It's a whole disappearing train debacle and John is angry with Sherlock more times than he's not. Sherlock does his thing and saves the day. With his turned up collar and his mouth twitched up in that smirk of his, John can't help the feeling of warmth that spreads throughout him. In this moment, as he's telling Lestrade how incompetent he is and how it really wasn't all that difficult, was the most relaxed and unguarded that he's seen him. Sherlock was always somewhat tense around John in the rare instances they've met since he's been back. And John does suppose that has to do with guilt of leaving him behind. But, right now they're Sherlock and John, so John doesn't stop the smile from creeping to his face.

**************

John goes back home with Sherlock, not bothering to tell Mary about the change in plans. He and Sherlock walk into 221B with rings of 'hello!' and 'oh John your back!" from Mrs. Hudson. They answer back and Sherlock waves away her offering of tea as they trudge up the stairs.

Sherlock beelines for the couch and for a second John's just stood there, unsure of what to do. So, he does was he always does and heads straight for the kitchen.

"You want a cuppa?" he calls from the kitchen. He was sure Sherlock rejected Mrs. Hudson because he didn't want to be bothered with her prattle, not because he didn't want any tea. His suspicions proved true when Sherlock leaped from the couch in one fluid motion with a resounding "Yes! If you would!"

As John watches for a moment Sherlock wander over to the fireplace with his fingers taping restless against his thighs, he noticed something was missing.

"Hey, what happened to my chair?" he asked, facing Sherlock directly now. Still his eyes were kept carefully trained at Sherlocks chin. He still couldn't look, not yet, not after everything.

Sherlock was wringing his hands together and he hadn't turned to face John. He was continuing to stare intently at something on the fire place. "It was blocking my view to the kitchen."