Written post Reichenbach Fall. I don't think there's any spoilers as such, but watching the episode might help XD

Still, the plot:
Sherlock has returned to show John he is not in fact dead. John doesn't take it so well at first but realises it is actually Sherlock.

There will be more chapters after and I know there's nothing dirty (so far) but there will be, so that is why I have rated it an M at the moment!

There may already be some kind of storyline similar, BUT, i've read so many or i just haven't read one yet. So, if there is anything similar already, I apologise profusely. I really do NOT mean to steal anyone's ideas. But again and as always, please do read and enjoy. Please leave reviews and any positive and constructive criticism is welcomed!

Anneh xoxo

It's been long. Too long. John has grown accustom to Sherlock not being around the flat or around at all. Yes, in the beginning he missed the scents, sounds, sights and the odd experiments here and there but, he's gotten used to all of that not being around. As used to it as he can be anyway. John really was not prepared for what was about to unfold in the day to come. He had just accepted things the way it was, then he comes along and messes everything up. Like he always used to do.

Sherlock didn't know how he could stay away from John and 221b for as long as he did. He couldn't stand it anymore and he needed to return. He needed to return to see John most of all. He still wasn't sure just how John would react when he walks through that door, human emotions was still as alien to him as it was when he first met John. He tried, he really did but still, they confused him. All he knew he needed to do was return. He couldn't wait to hug John, smell him, kiss him and… well. He just hoped that in the bottom of his heart, John wouldn't be angry with him, would let him explain everything and why he did what he had done. He needed to do it now. He has been standing outside for at least half an hour now staring at the front door, it's better to do it now and put of the inevitable.

Slowly, Sherlock started to make his way up the stairs, pulling out the key he had to the door. Hopefully, Mrs Hudson hadn't changed the locks. Looks like the bell has been fixed though. The key turned in the door and opened slightly. He wanted to be as quiet as possible as so not to arouse suspicion and let Mrs Hudson know first before John. He tiptoed through the hallway making his way up to the stairs. He was so close now, he swears he can smell John's scent already. It's either he can actually smell something or he needs John so much his brain is making him think he can smell John. He inches closer and closer, his heart beating faster and faster. Eventually, he reaches the top of the stairs. Nothing. There doesn't seem to be a sound coming from the flat. Oh God, John better be in. There was only one way to find out. Again, as slowly as possible, Sherlock pushed the door open as slowly as he possibly could. John doesn't seem to be anywhere in the living room.

Click.

Sherlock's frozen to the spot. He should have known John. He can't do anything however, not even lift his hands. He just closed his eyes, his hearing honing into what John was currently doing. The gun. It was shaking. Realisation has finally kicked in. The gun was lowered slowly and Sherlock opened his eyes again. There's still not a single word from either of the men. He could hear John very slightly breathing, hitching as he took each breath. He finally turned his head to look at John. He saw it plastered over John's face. Hurt, pain, anger, sadness, confusion. He pretty much saw it all. Next, whack!

John. John had. He had PUNCHED him. He should have seen it coming really. He shouldn't have expected John to just welcome him with open arms. Sherlock slumped agains't the wall eventually sliding down before hitting the ground. He didn't even rub the area John had just punched him. He had to try so hard and not cry at this very moment. He could have just broken down quite easily right now. His eyes were stinging and he just wanted to say something, anything. Or John. He wanted John to say something.

"Sh-… Sherlock, how?" John stuttered in between hitched breaths.

He still couldn't say anything. There was so much hurt in John's voice and he couldn't take it anymore. Yet, he still couldn't say anything. Not even a meek, 'Hi'. He continued to just stay on the floor with his back against the wall. He did however look back up to John, back to his face. That's what made him crack. He couldn't hold back anymore and Sherlock just started crying. He bought his knees up to his face and he just buried his face into his knees. He had also wrapped his arms around his legs keeping them in position. He could feel his whole body shaking but not one sense told him that John had moved from where he was standing. Not one tiny bit. He wanted him to do something to soothe him, comfort him, let him know everything was going to be okay. Nothing. This was ripping Sherlock apart. Destroying him from the inside out. He was probably better off not even coming back. He should have just stayed away. How stupid must he actually be to think John was just going to be the same?

He was finally able to stop crying. That's when he felt John move. Move away from him. Sherlock uncurled himself, his eyes puffy and red, his legs shaking slightly as he lowered them. He looked over to John who was now sitting on the sofa, staring at the floor blankly.

"John. I couldn't stay away any longer. I needed to be with you again. Please. You have to believe me."

He didn't move. The only part that was moving was his torso from where he was breathing. Sherlock could feel his heart pounding in his chest again. He couldn't understand why John was doing this to him, letting him fall apart right in front of him. Sherlock started to move to get up from the floor but stopped abruptly as he heard from John, "Don't. Just stay there."

Sherlock blinked and moved back to the position he was sitting in before. He could feel and almost see the anger that seemed to be radiating from John right now. He touched his face from where John had punched him now. It didn't seem to be as sore as the pain he was feeling from being in this current situation.

"I had to do it John. I had to. I beg you to believe me. You have to know I did it for your protection, John. Please, just say something. This is ripping me apart, destroying me."

"THIS IS DESTROYING YOU, SHERLOCK? HOW DARE YOU! I THOUGHT YOU WAS DEAD. GONE FOREVER. SO DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT YOU'RE HURTING RIGHT NOW, SHERLOCK. DON'T. YOU. DARE."

He was right. He didn't know how much he had hurt John, he will probably never know how much John had been hurt by everything. Maybe the pain he was feeling was just minuscule compared to what John had been feeling. Sherlock could do nothing but stare at the floor and mutter, "Sorry."

He saw John flinch out the corner of his eye. Wrong thing to say it seemed. He will never get this right. He was stupid to think he should have come back. He's done nothing but cause more pain, more heartache. Stupid.

"I can go. If that's what you want."

"Running away? Is that your answer?"

Sherlock just shook his head. Of course it wasn't the answer. It was better to have asked than to have just stayed around or just got up and left.

"I don't know what to say John. Other than I'm sorry."

"To be honest Sherlock, I don't know what I want to hear from you either. Anything but sorry."

Looking into John's eyes he saw nothing but pure anger.

"I want everything to go back to the way it was. I love you, need you and I couldn't live my life without you. This is why I came back now. I couldn't live without you around and in my life anymore. Please. Don't be angry with me. Please."

Sherlock started sobbing as he continued looking at John's face. He wanted to see John's face change. He wanted him to see how sorry Sherlock was, just how much he needed him back in his life, how much he loved John. Nothing was happening though. The anger continued. The tears forming in his eyes again were stinging more than before. The puffiness of his eyes from the previous crying session did not make things any better. Sherlock couldn't think of a time he had been this broken and upset. Not one single time. He heard John take a deep breath and exhale. Sherlock saw John close his eyes, laying back so his head was resting against the wall.

John took one more deep breath in before calmly saying, "Explain everything. Even the tiniest little detail."

Sherlock wiped his face before calming himself. He stared at the floor before starting his explanation into what had happened. Every little thought and detail included.

John listened tentatively, his eyes closed throughout the the whole of Sherlock's explanation. He couldn't look at Sherlock. He was already broken and hurt enough as it was. If he took one more look at Sherlock, he was pretty sure he would have just flipped. He held onto every word that Sherlock spoke. He heard one thing over and over again however. Moriarty. Over and over, the same name clutched onto him and spread through his body like a disease. He knew he had to be the one responsible for this. He couldn't quite believe that he would have taken it to something to this magnitude. Then he heard Sherlock say something he never thought he would hear.

"He killed himself. Shot himself in the head right there in front of me. I couldn't quite believe it. I didn't want to believe it. He was the only one who could have stopped the guys from shooting you, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade. He just… shot himself."

John opened his eyes and lifted his head off the wall, turning his gaze to Sherlock. He just stared at him blankly looking into Sherlock's eyes. He tried to process the information in his brain but it didn't register, no matter how many times he said it to himself.

"I was out of options, I had to-"

"He… Moriarty is… Dead? He's actually dead?"

"Yes. Even I can't find a way that he could have survived shooting himself in the head."

"You came back from jumping off a roof."

Both of them just sat in silence. They knew that John had a point, but he needed to let Sherlock continue. He went back to resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes. Sherlock continued explaining again shortly after. There were parts that John listened to and parts he didn't. He seemed to get the most of what Sherlock had said though. He couldn't believe that Molly knew and he didn't. It made him feel like his insides were twisting. It had gone silent again as Sherlock had finished his explanation. John couldn't help but open his eyes, stare at the ceiling and take a deep breath in. He held it for a second before exhaling again, still staring at the ceiling. He didn't want to look at Sherlock again, not yet. He still didn't want to believe that he was sitting there in the first place. He had just grown accustom to how everything was. He didn't want him to unravel everything again, just as he built everything back up.

"John?"

He lifted his head from the wall again to look at Sherlock. He couldn't let himself believe that Sherlock was actually sitting there. On the other hand, he wants to just walk over to Sherlock and just touch him. For now however, the best solution for now would be to deny everything to save the heartache if it isn't true.

"Molly knew? She helped you with all this?"

Sherlock did nothing but just nod. He wasn't even looking at John. He didn't know what to do anymore. The more he looked at Sherlock, the more he was telling himself it was him. Although he was trying to tell himself that it wasn't, the more he was losing the fight with himself. He looked at Sherlock, he seemed to look thinner before the incident. John seemed to be doing well with trying to get Sherlock to eat. If this is real, John is going to have to start from the beginning again. There is no way Sherlock was just going to go back to eating like he was before. He could hear the arguments in his head already. Sherlock lifted his head to look at John again. He could see Sherlock was thinking about something again. Maybe even going to say something else. Instead he watched as Sherlock started to get up from the floor. He just stared into Sherlock's eyes as he stood there for a moment. He must be thinking over in his head what would be best to do next. John himself wanted to do something but found himself unable to do so.

Sherlock started walking in John's direction, taking each step delicately and as slowly as possible. Again, John could do nothing but stare into his eyes as Sherlock took each step. Slowly, Sherlock made his way towards John eventually standing near the sofa. He stopped again before Sherlock assessed the situation before sitting beside John. Again, each movement slow and delicate. He noticed even though Sherlock was sitting next to him on the sofa, saying and doing nothing, he was on the edge of the seat. John looked to Sherlock's cheek from where he had hit him. It looked quite red, swollen and sore. Without thinking, John raised his hand to brushing Sherlock's cheek, over the area. Sherlock winced only a little and John had almost missed it. There was no denying it now. There was no way his body could be imagining this with this amount of feeling. He didn't even imagine anything like this when Sherlock was first gone. There has been nothing as strong as this. John moved his hand away from Sherlock's face slightly and shuffled a little closer to him. He could feel how close his knees were. John put his hand to his face again, applying a little more pressure this time and moved his hand down Sherlock's face. He watched Sherlock close his eyes and his own hand trailing down Sherlock's face, taking in every little detail as he was doing so. His hand rested on Sherlock's neck with his fingers at the back of his neck. He could feel the small amount of hair. That's when realisation kicked in. He was here. He really was.

John let out a small, choked sob before saying, "Oh God… Sherlock. You're… You're really here."

His hand was still on Sherlock's neck and felt the muscles in his neck as he nodded. John couldn't help but hug Sherlock as tightly as he possibly could. He was the one who was shaking and crying now. He couldn't hold it back anymore. His Sherlock was really here. He didn't care how or why. He was back. Here, in John's arms. Sherlock had his head nuzzled in John's neck while he was also clamped onto John. He felt Sherlock's warm breath and soft curls agains't his neck. He could really feel just how thin Sherlock had become, especially with his arms around Sherlock.

"You seem a lot thinner than you look."

Both John and Sherlock pulled back from the hug but without letting go of each other. John couldn't help but let out a little laugh and smile at Sherlock. Sherlock returned a small smile in return.

"I don't get why you were so bitter and angry to start with, John."

"Sherlock, please. Don't ruin this now."

"I just want to know, John. Why were you-"

"I saw you. Jump off a building and hit the ground. You really think that i'm just going to be happy when you turn up again like, 'Surprise!'? You left me alone for so long. I had just come to terms with everything and you turned it all upside down again. It was never going to be a happy reunion."

Sherlock looked away and down to the ground again before saying meekly, "I guess not."

John cupped Sherlock's face in his hands and looked into his eyes.

"Sherlock. I didn't want to believe you were back. If it had turned out that all of this was just a dream it would have just made everything go back to the way it was before. But now I know the truth… we can start again."

He was pretty sure he saw Sherlock's eyes lighten a little. It may have been very faint, but he was sure he saw it. He couldn't quite bring himself to kiss Sherlock quite yet. God knows he wanted to but he couldn't, not yet.

Sherlock was just glad John had finally come to terms that he was here, actually here and alive. He had dreamed every night of being able to go back to John. Now he could he had to restrain himself from just touching and feeling John all over. Yes, it wasn't what he was quite expecting when he first returned, but he has now however got his John back. Words could not describe how Sherlock is feeling. He had to adjust to life again without John. Even down to the part where he wasn't eating again. It almost hurt to eat though. Sherlock also knew that John would have picked up on the fact he lost weight. He could hear John's voice every time he didn't eat anything. Sherlock was so exhausted by everything. Although he wanted to spend as much time as he could with John, he really wanted to just get some sleep. After thinking about how tired his whole body was started making him feel achey and his eyelids heavy. He couldn't do anything but fidget in his seat from where he was aching so much.

John knotted his eyebrows together and asked, "Sherlock, are you okay? You seem to be so fidgety suddenly."

Sherlock looked into John's eyes and saw just how worried he looked. God he missed that so much, but of course he didn't want to make John worry. He's made the man do that so much.

"I'm so exhausted and i'm just feeling so achey. It's kind of hard just sitting still now."

"Well, you could go to bed and get some sleep. I… I left your room how it was."

Sherlock nodded and started moving to get himself off the sofa. John moved so he wasn't in Sherlock's way and watched as he stood. Sherlock started walking to his room and stopped. He realised John wasn't moving from the sofa. He turned and looked at John who was still in the same position as he was before. He looked at John while saying, "Are you not going to come with me?"

John looked up at Sherlock and looked into his eyes. His mouth was slightly open.

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't-"

"No! I-I do. I'll just… I'll be right behind you. You go on ahead."

Sherlock looked to the ground and turned to walk to his bedroom again. He reached his bedroom door and pushed it open slowly. He peered inside and saw John wasn't joking when he said he kept it exactly how it was. Sherlock walked over to his cupboard to find something more comfortable to sleep in. As he was undressing, John had walked into the room. He looked at John, seeing that he was already in something more comfortable. Sherlock looked away again as he pulled on the clothes he just took from his cupboard. Walking over to his bed, he quickly climbed under the duvet. By this time, all he needed to do was sleep. It wasn't long after Sherlock had become comfortable that John had joined him under the duvet. He knew John always sleeps on his back. Sherlock turned over and rested his head under John's chin and on his chest. He felt John's hand rest on his head, his fingers in his curls. As Sherlock was listening to John's breathing and heartbeat, he draped his hand over John's stomach and quickly drifted off to sleep