As the sun was rising, a young man was sitting – his jacket still on - in front of a window. A golden gloom was filling the room and smoke was flouting in the air.

John arrived outside, slamming the door of the taxi shut, not knowing what was waiting inside for him.

'Have a good day, sir!' the cabbie called.

'Yes, thank you' John responded.

He had a feeling about this day and he was not sure what this feeling in his gut was trying to tell him.

Slowly he unlocked the door of 221b Baker Street. The famous address of the 'psychopath who killed himself' – his best friend, Sherlock Holmes.

The steps, creaking under the pressure of his bodyweight, seemed not to end as the feeling started to get worse.

Opening the door, he saw the man. He could not look away.

The atmosphere, the man, the smoke - it all seemed unreal.

'Sher- no… No!' John shouted grabbing his head.

'No, don't do this to me. I buried you. I cried for you. I held weeping Mrs Hudson for you! Don't you dare be here.'

John took two steps towards the man.

'I mean, I want you here- of course I do. I wished it many times. But Sherlock…'

'John'

John gasped. 'Don't John me!' he said furiously.

'I am sorry. I truly am.'

'Why, Sherlock, just tell me why.'

'To save you'

'Don't lie –'

'I'm not! It was either me or you. All of you. I killed myself to save my friends. Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, you… I had to.'

'Don't you dare say that you sacrificed yourself to safe us! You had no right to put us in this situation. A lonely Lestrade, a weeping Mrs Hudson and… and me. You decided this, all this, for us and let me tell you this, Sherlock, that's not how you should treat your friends. And the last thing and I think it is the only thing that matters to, really, is: Why now?'

John was getting more and more upset. At first he thought about just hugging his friend and welcoming him home, but because of the lack of information he needed to process this and Sherlock's unbelievably passive behaviour, he could not help himself but get upset.

'Well, it was not planned this way, but you were being watched. But today, I just… I had to look if you were alright.'

'No I'm not alright Sherlock! It is not ok!'

'John… Moriarty was clever. He knew he convince anyone of me being a lie. He could not just tell people I was a lie, because people would not believe him. So he planted an idea in the heads of all of you to grow in your heads by itself, because an idea is all yours. You would believe it is your own even if you were just played by him in his evil game. I know you refuse to think of me in that way, but for a moment, even if it was just a glimpse of a second, you doubted what you knew of me. I did, too. John I can't show myself to public just yet.'

'Sherlock, where exactly did you stay this whole time?' John asked and sat down in the other chair.

'Molly'

'At Molly's? Since when is Molly lying to people. Oh! Oh, of course, sure she would for you…'

Both, John and Sherlock, remained silent after that not knowing what to say.