A/N: It has been far too long since I posted anything…This is my latest offering…don't be too harsh.
Three years later John had moved on…well that's what people had begun to believe. He had returned to work at the clinic and had moved out of Baker St; much to the disappointment of Mrs Hudson. He was happy and had finally seemed to put the past behind him.
John had not put the past behind him and had most certainly not moved on. He simply had gotten fed up with the sad looks and comforting words of people he barely knew. He worked with a smile and the world left him alone. He liked it better that way. Even Mycroft had ended his weekly abduction ritual after two years.
He was on his way back from his now monthly trip to Sherlock's grave when he received a call from work. Apparently he was needed in some posh bloke's house immediately and he was asked for especially. He had supposedly formerly worked in Bart's.
Half an hour later John arrived at the biggest mansion he had ever seen. It was bigger than the Holmes estate which he had visited once back when his friend was still alive. He walked to the front door and rang the bell. Two minutes later he was greeted by a rather ashen faced woman who looked somehow familiar.
"This way Doctor…but I think it's already too late for my friend. He has been getting weaker by the hour and I'm really worried" she said as they walked to the sick man's room. John put on a brave face and comforted the woman as best he could. He entered alone to examine the extent of the illness. It was clear that the man was at death's door but for some reason something didn't feel right to John. There was something about this man's eyes that bugged him. They were familiar but John did not recollect ever having treated this man before.
After an hour with the man and his close friend John had to leave. The woman was clearly upset but understood and informed John that she would keep him posted on the man's health. John thanked her and took his leave.
The next morning when he got to work there was a message on his voicemail. The young man had died and the woman wanted him to come to the funeral as he had been so kind the previous day. John felt slightly uncomfortable about this, although something in the back of his mind nagged him to attend. It was because of this that two days later he found himself in a rather unpopulated chapel. It would seem this man did not have many friends.
"Sorry for your loss" he muttered after the rather brief ceremony. The woman looked at him and gave a pained smile. She was grieving and nothing John could say would stop her tears. He knew that gut wrenching feeling and had been experiencing it now for far too long. At that moment he realised that he needed to move on for his own sanity. Many other people had been devastated by death and he needed to be able to be there for them instead of feeling sorry from himself. The woman seemed to sense the change in the doctor and gave him a pat on the arm.
"It's about time John Watson" she said as she half guided, half pushed him towards the coffin. John was confused as he glanced at the man who lay there. Those eyes…suddenly those eyes opened and John fell backwards in shock. Not moments before this man had been dead and now here he was breathing and groaning in relief.
"John Watson! Get off that floor immediately I need you to send a text to my dear brother informing him of my return. Do not just stare at my lives are at stake!" came the familiar voice of a certain consulting detective. John felt a sudden burst of all the anger which had been building up over the last three years and within ten seconds Sherlock Holmes was lying on the ground in a lot of pain. John ranted for another fifteen minutes before he hugged his friend in gladness.
"Now what's this about a text to Mycroft…surely he knew you were alive?" Sherlock shook his head looking rather mischievously at the ground.
"Not exactly…look I'll explain everything once you move back into Baker St…and perhaps we could have a little fun with Mycroft along the way…"was Sherlock's reply.
John couldn't believe what was happening but he was happy…happier than he had been in three years and his request to Sherlock on that fateful day returned to his mind:
Just stop this Sherlock…don't be dead…
His miracle had finally happened….
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this…If you would like to find out what happened with Mycroft let me know via comments and I'll post another chapter or two