A/N: So I originally posted this on my Tumblr underneath a GIFset, but now I want it here as well.
Sherlock opened the balcony door with quiet ease. It had been months since he'd seen John, months since he'd asked for a miracle that Sherlock wasn't sure he could give. He hoped this would be enough. He slipped the curtain aside with one gloved hand, and stepped inside, careful not to disturb anything. He glanced around, then removed his gloves, closed the balcony door, and walked further into the flat.
He noticed with a pang that hardly any of the furnishings from Baker Street had made it here. That had obviously been too much for John to manage. At the same time, he noticed that this place was barely lived in and not homey at all. John didn't like it here, then, either. It just happened to have a bed- it wasn't home. He located the bedroom, wherein purportedly John slept within, and stood for a long time with his head pressed to the wooden lintel. Then he dropped his hand to the knob and turned, slowly swinging the door open.
He stepped into the room and looked down at John, asleep on the bed. His face was drawn and pained, and he looked tired even though he was asleep. Sherlock swallowed. He cleared his throat and lowered his hand to John's shoulder. "John. This miracle is for you."
Inspired by this post on Tumblr.
A/N: Reviews are love.
