Hey!

This is my first story...so. Reviews are lovely, as are favorites and follows. I will try to update as often as I can, but I go to a charter school( i.e. lots of studying) so if my science teacher decides to pop a surprise test on us and i have to study all night...it can't really be helped. I'm also not really sure how long this fic will be. However, I like really long ones, so this'll be one too, probably.

Well, anyway, read!

-Alex

CHAPTER ONE- ALONE
In which John is alone.

It was fall. It was the first week of November and leaves were crunching under his feet and giving magnificent showcases of their flying talent. It was somewhat warm today-for London, that is- anyone in his place would say that it was a beautiful day, but it was completely lost on John Waston.
It had been three years. When he had gone to his therapist- that first time- she told him it would be hard to get over HIM. But three years? Why- when Mrs. Hudson had started to clean out HIS room- why had he told her to keep the skull? Why had he convinced the morque to give him that scarf- that scarf that smelled of dust and cigarette smoke and running through the streets of London- when now he couldnt even stand to look at it?
And why, for the love of God, WHY, did he take daily trips to THAT restraunt- the one they went to the exilerating first night- and sit in THAT booth- when it hurt so much?
That was where he was headed now. He wanted not to go- but then again, he also wanted to get rid of the skull and the scarf- but that wasnt going to happen.
He sat down at the booth and mindlessly ordered the same meal he ordered every single day, and ignored the concerned look the waiter gave him every single day. Usually when he came here he would just eat and leave, because that was all he could handle- but today something compelled him to turn his back- look out the window- and he saw something that made his breath hitch.
That familiar coat- those dark curls brushing an ivory neck- no scarf, he noticed absentmindedly- but somehow just those ebony swirls against alabaster made John lurch out of his seat- leaving his cane behind, because of course his limp had come back- and run out of the shop, run in the direction he saw the tall figure go- but it was gone, and John realized it probably wasnt even there in the first place.

Sherlock caught his breath in the alley next to the restraunt, and hoped despretley that John wouldnt look in this alley, because he honestley didnt know what he would do if that happened.
He heard John walk into the opening of the alley, and he held his breath when he saw Johns profile. John looked away from the alley then turned his face Sherlocks direction, and Sherlock pressed himself flat against the bricks until he heard the click of Johns heels turn away and dissapear.
He had meant to keep his distance, just watch to make sure John was safe, but it had been three years, and he couldnt help wanting to get closer. He was just about to walk away when he heard the restraunts door open and he knew John had seen him, and he ran.
Tomorrow was three years to the day since the Fall, and Sherlock was having trouble controlling himself. Yesterday he had climbed into 221B just to see it, and he just barely got out when Mrs. Hudson opened the door.
He had been putting it off for far too long, but he couldnt imagine what Johns reaction would be, and that scared him- the not knowing.

John limped slowly back to the restraunt. He had been sure that was HIM, but he had to let it go. Go through the motions, John, he told himself. Ask for the check. Get your cane, thats a good man. Now call a cab. Go home.
Walking inside 221B, he couldnt help himself. He limped inside his room and pulled the scarf out from underneath his bed. Pressing it to his face, he inhaled the scent that he had been craving for three years. He wasnt sure how long he sat there- it mightve been minutes, hours, days, for all he cared, but he didnt move until Mrs. Hudson came in and put a hand on his shoulder and a cup of tea on the sidetable. He didnt open his eyes until she- and the scarf- were gone.