The night was a cold and unfriendly one. The fog lay low in the streets and the street lamps seemed dim compared to the shining silver moon. Even the urchins with no homes to go to had found small acloves to hide in. Over all it didn't not seem like a night to travel in. Danger seemed to lurk around every corner. But this was a trip I had to make. 3 long years I had spent away from my London home but the city itself had not changed much. Saint Paul's was still as magestic, the Houses of Parliment still as daunting. Scotland Yard stood tall and strong, a reminder to criminals everywhere that the law was watching them. I saw them all from my carrige window. I had only been back in London since yesterday but Stamford had filled me in on what I had missed over the years. Lestrade was same as ever. Barton had become a fine officer, as I said. But monumental changes had happened to my flatmate. After I left, he settled down into the doctoring buisness and got married again. His first wife, Mary Morstan, had very sadly passed away and Watson was still very sore about it. Nontheless, he was happy with his life. He had everything he ever wanted. Stamford had given me his new address and as my carridge neared his home, my heart thumped slightly with nerves.
I stepped out, paid the cabby and slipped down into his porch. As I reached for the bell pull, a flurry of thoughts struck me. What if Watson didn't remember me? What if Watson didn't want to see me? What if he never wanted to see me again? Three years had been a long time and though they had treated me well, things were not the same for my Boswell. He had lost his best friend, his wife and his reputation in that space of time. A memory flashed into my mind.
I was lying on the sofa, summer light streaming in from the curtains. Watson was sat in his chair scanning the newspaper headlines. The table was decorated with tea cups and my chemistry set. Everything was in the right place. Even that damn picture of Reinchen Bach Falls. Damn the irony. But nontheless it was peaceful, happy even.
I shook my head and the image disappeared, leaving me standing cold and alone in the porch. I had not always been the kindest of friends and maybe his new life was better than the one I left behind. There were some areas of life that I could not fill. Maybe Watson didn't want to be in the spotlight anymore. We were both older now. He was infinatley more mature than I was. Than I'll ever be. I turned away from the door. I didn't want to marr my memories of John with an evening of shouting and despair. Maybe I would find someone like John somewhere else. He had been the only person to truly understand me and my ways but maybe he hadn't stood the test of time, like so many before him. I just wanted to see him one more time. I wanted it so badly. I had turned up uninvited on his doorstep. What would he do? Would he embrace me like a brother or stare at me like an animal in a zoo? I didn't want to hurt John in anyway and maybe intruding would. I took a step away from the door when a hand touched my shoulder. I turned around. A small man stood there, eyes kind and smile wide. John.
"Hello Sherlock."
This is a re-upload so tell me what you think! I divided it up and changed the names but kept the last two informal just for the effect.
AOR