Ch. 2
Reconciliation

All John could do was stare as he sat next to the headstone. The headstone meant for the man who sat at the bottom of the tree. Sherlock Holmes sat up a bit more and looked him with a slightly bit of concern. "John?" he asked again.

"Y-you're…here…you are…really here and alive?" were the first words out of John Watson's mouth as he started to stand up; his leg almost wanting to give out on him because of the shock. Sherlock got up, the concern almost wiped from his face again as he offered John his cane. "Come now John, you must observe. If I was dead would I be-"

His words were cut off when an impressively powerful punch hit his high cheekbone. Sherlock stumbled back, holding his cheek, and leaned against the tree for support. John grabbed the collar of his shirt and held up another fist. Tears were streaming from John's eyes as he looked up at Sherlock in anger mixed with relief. "THREE BLOODY YEARS, SHERLOCK HOLMES! Three bloody years! Do you have any idea what the hell I went through? DO YOU?"

Sherlock kept a hand to his cheek, which was split opened and bleeding. "John…I had to keep you and everyone safe! It was reasonab-" Again, he was cut off as John punched him enough to result in a black eye later.

"NO IT WAS NOT! I saw you fall but I just knew in the back of my head you were alive! But no one believed in me! They thought I was mad! I nearly beat a man with my bloody cane at the pub because he called you a nutter! You are one but not in the way he was thinking!" Sherlock stayed quiet and let John talk, knowing his face was already swelling.

"Why do you think I need my cane again? My limp came back! 'Cause you'd gone and everyone kept saying you were a fraud! Because of you this happened to me again!" He pounded a fist on Sherlock's chest and looked down, quietly crying. "Why didn't you contact me? I could have helped you, Sherlock. You could at least tell me you were alive instead of making me drink myself stupid and think you were still at the flat! I even started to talk to your skull for Christ sakes."

Sherlock looked at his old friend, starting to feel some guilt for putting him through so much. "John, I'm sorry." John looked up. Did the infamous Sherlock Holmes just say sorry to him?

"You are sorry?" Sherlock nodded, straightening up and fixing his blazer and shirt.

"Yes. I was only thinking of yours and of our friend's safety. I had not calculated in your mentality during my absence and it seems I have put you through a lot. For that I am sorry. I do hope you will forgive me." John could not believe his ears, Sherlock was apologizing to him. Getting a sorry out of Sherlock used to be like pulling teeth.

"Will you be coming back with me to the flat...or will you be away longer now?"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, I shall return to the flat. Most of the danger has passed for now."

John returned Sherlock's nod with one of his own. "Right, then I forgive you." He looked at Sherlock and punched him once more –not a rough one, but strong enough to split his lip. Sherlock frowned. "What was the meaning of that John? I told you I was sorry!"

John laughed. "That, Sherlock, was for letting me sleep on the ground! I could catch a cold now thanks to you."

Sherlock grumbled as he picked up his long coat as he spat a bit of blood out on the ground. "Well I gave you my coat so you would be warm, I was thinking of your health."

As Sherlock started to put his scarf on John suddenly stopped and hugged Sherlock for a moment. "I have missed you, Sherlock. As a friend, of course. But I am truly glad you are back."

Sherlock was stunned; he was not used to this sort of affection from John, though it was friendly. "I have missed you as well John. It's hard to find someone who can tolerate my…personality, I would suppose is the right word. But why are hugging me? You were punching me a moment ago. I'm afraid I do not understand."

John grumbled, "Just accept the damn hug you tosser! And good, 'cause if you forgot about me I'd be really cross." He let go of Sherlock and coughed, fixing his coat with a deft tug. "Sorry…And now people will definitely talk," he joked.

Sherlock laughed and smiled a bit. "Well, people can talk but they will never learn."

John hummed his agreement as he walked past Sherlock, towards the cab waiting on the road just outside the graveyard. "Absolutely right Sherlock. Now let's go, Mrs. Hudson said she would have food ready when I get back. I have to tell her we need one more place setting tonight. And I've got to fix your damn face as well."