"I'm home..."
The harsh clinking of metal keys against a crystal bowl.
Rustling, then silence.
Muffled footsteps followed by the squeaking of bedsprings.
The snap of a light switch.
Darkness.
John Watson lay in the empty bed, struggling to sleep. His eyes wandered over to the phone lying next to him, untouched since Sherlock had left it there, the night before everything ended. The night before The Fall. John called him occasionally, even though he knew he wouldn't answer, just to hear the familiar cadences of his voice, the abrupt phrasing that he knew so well: "Sherlock Holmes, evidently I'm busy, so unless your matter is of the utmost importance, which I can assure you it is not, I'd advise you to hang up."
He lay on the bed, memories flooding his mind, crippled by the aching feeling of loss that always accompanied thoughts of Sherlock, when his reminiscence was shattered by a series of sharp beeps. Startled, he snapped his eyes open. They darted around the darkened bedroom, searching for the source of the noise, before eventually coming to rest on the phone, now glowing with an iridescent blue light as another series of beeps rang out.
A very confused, still partly paralysed John fumbled for the phone. "Um, hello? It's John Watson"
"Lestrade. Open the door."
"What?"
"Just do it, It'll make sense afterwards."
The phone clicked off, leaving John alone in the dark room. Slowly he shuffled towards the desk in the corner of the room and took out the gun that still lay there. "Just in case." he muttered to no one in particular. Lightly, he walked over to the staircase in the corner of the house, and descended towards the front door.
The stairs creaked under him as he arrived at the front door, and, unsure or what to say or do, reached a wavering hand towards the door handle, flicking the safety catch of his gun with the other hand.
"I can hear you" came a familiar drawl from the other side of the door. The gun fell to the carpet and was swept aside by the door as John flung it open and launched himself into the open arms of the man on the other side, who, albeit reluctantly, returned the gesture.
"I missed you"