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 3.1)! I'd love to know which one YOU find the most realistic. :)
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Reunion(s) Version 2.2 (- also has Mrs. Hudson)
John came thundering down the steps because he had heard her scream to find Mrs. Hudson being shaken by the shoulders by a man looming over her.
"Mrs. Hudson, would you please calm down?" the figure was saying in a deep, sonorous voice that sounded oh so familiar to John.
Mrs. Hudson whimpered.
"Let her go," John said in a tightly controlled voice, pointing his gun at the man's back. "I am warning you. I am armed."
Mrs. Hudson's eyes flickered towards him over the shoulder of her attacker. "John," she said, in unison with the person holding her – and the way they both said it, Mrs. Hudson breathless, but not at all frightened, the man calm in simple acknowledgement, finally threw a switch in his brain. The hand holding his gun began to shake.
"Please put the gun down before you hurt anyone," the other man said, back still turned, but John couldn't be sure, aught not to stack his and Mrs. Hudson's welfare on an impossible hunch, until he saw the stranger's face.
"Turn around," he commanded, making an effort to keep his voice stable and authoritative.
The other man sighed. John could see him giving Mrs. Hudson's shoulder a light squeeze, not at all threatening, but tender and reassuring, before slowly turning to face him.
John felt like he had received a physical blow, jerking back, gun arm falling to his side. "Oh my god," he whispered. "Sherlock."
"Hallo, John," the detective nodded at him. The grip around John's gun tightened as it came up again. His face hardened. "Who are you?"
Sherlock blinked at him.
"Who are you?"
"Oh, do come on, John! Don't be dense."
"Who are you?"
Sherlock sighed his condescending sigh that meant the entire world was crowded with idiots, but he did as he was asked. "Sherlock Holmes. Who else would I be?"
"Sherlock Holmes is dead! Who the hell are you?"
"I-"
"Step away from her." John flicked his gun to the side, indicating a direction. The other man who looked so like Sherlock with his calculating, stony face, did as he was instructed. They stared at each other, John's mind suddenly unhelpfully blank. His treacherous eyes must be deceiving him.
"John, dear. Why don't you put the gun down?" Mrs. Hudson asked in a tentative tone, cutting through the surging silence.
Suddenly there was too little air in the room. He started gulping in huge lung-fulls of it, chest heaving, while the man who looked so like his late friend stood there, watching him calmly, no, observing him and that's when the fact that Sherlock Holmes was standing here, in his hallway, alive and well, hit home.
Suddenly, John felt like he might faint, blinking and reaching out for the banister to steady himself. Sherlock, always three steps ahead of events, made it across the room and caught him by the shoulders just as his legs finally gave out beneath him.
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Part of a series of 5 stories. Please also read other versions (1.1, 1.2, 2.1 and 3.1)! I'd love to know which one YOU find the most realistic. :)