Sherlock climbed into the back seat of Mycroft's car. Mycroft slid in next to him.

"Brother dear, I do not see why you are so shocked. You didn't expect John to mourn by your graveside for the rest of his life?"

"Of course not! I did this so you all could live."

Sherlock leaned forward and sighed. Mycroft let him continue at his own pace. Sherlock had created his own emotional mine field. It was up to him to navigate it. Mycroft would be there to pick up the pieces of his brother. Whatever condition he was in.

"But...engaged?"

"Sherlock, Ms. Mary Morstan is a wonderful lady and will make John very happy."

"How do you know? Have you..."

"Oh do shut up brother."

Sherlock was just glaring at him.

"Why don't you just ask him yourself?"

Sherlock suddenly stilled and looked out Mycroft's window. Halfway down the road there was John and Mary. They had obviously just eaten lunch. They were laughing about something.

"Well go on."

Sherlock hesitated. There were three things that Sherlock feared. Doubt, fear and himself. Specifically his own emotions which seemed to have recently awakened in an unsettling way.

"He isn't going to bite you." Mycroft laughed.

"No he is going to hit me. With a 60% chance of breaking my nose."

Why is John using the cane again? He has lost weight. Gone more gray.

"Then he is going to scream at me about betraying him. Then probably hit me again."

Maybe Mycroft is right. That is a real smile on his face. Face. What? John you don't look good in a mustache.

"Sherlock. The worst you will get is a hug. You really have no idea how much John cares for you. Still."

"Given the choice between getting hit by John or him hugging me and crying on my shoulder I would rather get hit."

Sherlock quietly exited the car. Sherlock nodded Thanks to his brother.

"Could that be because when he starts you will soon follow." Mycroft whispered as Sherlock crept towards John and Mary.

Sherlock's feet carried him to three meters behind the couple. John was playing with his phone. Then his brain froze. Mary turned around and acknowledged the stranger with a smile. Sherlock bowed his head in return.

Perfect

Sherlock and Mary closed the gap between them. Sherlock extended his hand in greeting.

"Sherlock Homes pleasure to meet you."

"Mary Morstan. Likewise. Wait... Sherlock? John's Sherlock? I thought you died?"

Mary's expression looked confused.

"Yes. Long explanation. That I will give gladly."

Mary could see Sherlock's ridged body stance. Also his eyes were in a losing battle with his emotions. They were glazed over with fear, regret she couldn't say.

"What was that now, Mary?" John said finishing with his phone.

"Umm. John you should turn around."

"What is the matter Mary?"

John turned around and stared blankly at his dead friend. His mouth moved but no sound came out.

"Hi John." Sherlock squeaked the words out.

Mary recalled a phrase; " high functioning sociopath". She may have just met Sherlock but Sociopaths never let this much emotion be shown. Mary watched as John and Sherlock stared at each other. Both sets of eyes boiling and clouded.

John drew in a deep breath and launched his right fist at Sherlock's chest. Hitting between his diaphragm and stomach. Sherlock's knees buckled and he sat down unable to breathe.

"Feel nauseous? Can't breathe?"

Sherlock looked at John with glazed eyes and a terrified look. He was gasping for air.

"Don't like it? Do you!" John was now screaming.

Sherlock shook his head no.

"This is the way I felt when I watched you jump from that building! Then for the next years! You coward!"

John saw Sherlock's eyes turn to fluid. John stopped and watched Sherlock's head drop and his body start shaking. Mary wanted to intervene but kept her distance.

Oh God. I've really hurt him.

John's concern for Sherlock was quickly drowned in pure rage. John continued to scream at Sherlock.

"You couldn't contact me! Three sodding years! Not once!"

"He couldn't John."

Mycroft was turning John around to talk.

"Oh like you really care! You gave him to Moriarty on a silver platter! Does he even know you did that?"

Sherlock looked up at Mary and mouthed "Sorry". Mary saw Sherlock bolt out of the street and disappear down the nearest alley.

"Sherlock do you know what this bastard did to you?! Have you gone deaf Sherlock! Answer me!"

John discovered he was yelling at thin air. John saw Mary's expression and knew he had gone too far. John took Mary's hand and placed it in Mycroft's.

"Yes, John. Please be gentle. The knife you hold could make him wish death had taken him."

The softness of Mycoft's delivery cut through John's rage. John calmed himself before turning and running around the corner. Mycoft ushered Mary into the car.

"I do apologize Mary. I truly thought that they were just going to dampen each others shoulders. "

"I'm fine Mycroft. You couldn't tell us anything?"

"No I really couldn't. I need your help."

"For what?"

"Can you help me with Ms. Hudson? She does not need a big shock."

Mary nodded yes. The black car hurried to 221 Bakers street.