This is part of a series of five different versions of how Sherlock's and John's reunion could go. Eventually, there will be something before and after, but right now it's just these five little scenes. Please also read other versions (1.1, 1.2, 2.1 and 2.2)! I'd love to know which one YOU find the most realistic. :)
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Reunion(s) Version 3.1 (- just them)
John's first reaction was an entirely involuntary one: His legs unceremoniously gave way under him, making him crumple to the floor in a heap with a whispered "Sherlock" on his lips, incredulity lacing every syllable.
His dead friend looked down at him with the same mild interest he had paid all of John's actions like the other man was some vaguely amusing puppy.
"John." A nod accompanied the word, the greeting as short and informal as if they were two people passing each other on the street.
Sherlock kept staring.
John could feel his eyes growing warm, tears beginning to well up and make their way down his pale face.
"You are dead. I thought…" he swallowed against a relieved sob.
"As usual, you saw but did not observe," Sherlock sounded disappointed, almost cold. Yet he extended a hand to help his friend up off the floor, John's fingers close over solid flesh.
"You're alive! But… how?"
Sherlock sighed as he always has done when he thought John was being particularly thick. "Isn't it obvious?"
The boredom in his voice made John blink, let go of the hand he didn't realize he was still holding and back up a step. "I thought you were dead," he repeated, spitting the words in Sherlock's face.
"Well, I'm not."
"All this time! Do you have any idea-? No, of course you don't." John's voice was drenched with bitterness. How could he have been so stupid as to mourn a man that wasn't even dead? A man for whom the pain he had caused was merely yesterday's papers?
Fury boiled up in John, hot and scalding, burning away the tears. Before Sherlock could react, the ex-soldier had drawn back his fist and punched him in the face with all the strength he could muster.
Sherlock's head snapped back and John's knuckles probably hurt just as much as the chin they had made contact with. "You bastard," John all but screamed.
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Part of a series of 5 stories. Please also read other versions (1.1, 1.2, 2.1 and 2.2)! I'd love to know which one YOU find the most realistic. :)