John Watson sat up in his bed to the sound of keys being inserted to the door. Thinking it was only Mrs. Hudson, he rolled over and went back to sleep. After all, it was only 6:30. Wait, John stopped himself. That's not right. Mrs. Hudson wouldn't be out that early. Paralyzed with fear, John stayed laying down on his bed as the intruder walked into his room and sat himself down. "John," The intruder whispered, staring at the back of John's head. "John wake up."

"What?" He mumbled, still half asleep, but alert. He sat up in the bed and screamed,"Who are you and why are you in my flat?!"

"Shh, it's me," the intruder said, then john realized it was his 'old friend' Mycroft Holmes. "Listen, we have a lead."

"Lead to what?" John asked, extremely irritated. Now was not the time for guessing games. It's been multiple years after the Fall,yes, but he was still in shock. He just woke up, hadn't had his coffee, and he needed some space. Mycroft was standing way to close.

"What do you think, you numbskull?" Mycroft announced quietly, to not wake Mrs. Hudson. "You have to be very hush-hush about this, okay? It's extremely important we find my imbecile of a brother and you-erm- companion." He said the last words as if he suspected something between the two of them.

"We're not dating!" John screamed, pushing Sherlock's brother away. "But," He sighed, giving in. "I want to know. Where is he?"

"Well,um, we think some where around here."

"We? Who's we?"

Mycroft laughed and opened the door. In came Sherlock Holmes, John Watson's best friend. "Sherlock," The army doctor whispered, his eyes full of amazement.

"John," Sherlock began, tears pooling in his eyes. "John, I-"

John's eyes suddenly changed, now full of fear and anger. He jumped up from his bed and walked up to Sherlock. "No," He whispered at first, then his voice suddenly started to rise. "No!" He threw a punch and it just barely missed Sherlock by half of a centimeter. He threw another punch with the other hand. This one hit Sherlock square in the jaw. "You know what you did to me? I have had a terrible case of depression and anxiety ever since that...thing! And you know what?" He asked, pausing to kick Sherlock in the thigh. "I'm not even going to ask you how you did it, because you are a selfish jerk, and that's just what you want, isn't it?"

Sherlock had no idea how to respond to this. So, naturally, he stalked out of the door, his long coat sweeping along.

John didn't know what to do, so he collapsed on his bed. Mycroft just stood there.

Fast forward 3 hours later, and 1 story was splattered all over the news.

THE 2ND DEATH OF SHERLOCK HOLMES, FOUND DEAD IN AN ALLEYWAY.

And variations of sorts. So that, that one 'fight' between John and Sherlock, was the last they ever saw of each other.