AN: I wanted to write a serious story about John and Sherlock's reunion but, I guess I'm not that good with being serious.
"Sherlock, why are there dead ducks in the refrigerator?"
Sherlock did not respond. He never responds ever since he jumped off the roof at St. Bart's. Now John found himself living each day like a robot, but every once in a while he would find weird experiments in the fridge, as if Sherlock was still alive.
He couldn't take this madness.
John sighed because of the stillness in his flat. He knew he didn't place the ducks in the fridge but they had to come from somewhere. Sherlock couldn't have put them there.
John's mobile made a beeping noise. John looked at his phone to find he had a text.
"Don't touch the ducks. Be back soon. -SH"
Sherlock.
No, it couldn't be Sherlock, could it?
John heard the door open. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs. John didn't bother with moving. He couldn't move after the tall consulting detective walked through the door.
"John."
John finally found he could move again. He walked over to Sherlock and soon his fist connected with Sherlock's cheekbone.
"Me leaving was a bit not good, right?"
"Just a bit." John and Sherlock laughed. It's all they could do.
"Can I just ask something; why ducks?"
"I wanted to see if, after death, they were still buoyant."