A/N: just low-key getting my angey out because I wanna punch Sherlock in the face for playing me like he did. Which is why I'm internally rooting for John to punch him each time he does. Cause like, I knew he wasn't dead but slowly they got me and then it's like bAM OKAY THIS IS STILL A THING and now I'm all SHERLOCK I WANT A FRIGGIN DIVORCE aLSO reeeeEEEE
His eyes scanned the sidewalk, piercing blue eyes wandering to and fro between both sides of the street. His collar remained flipped up, as he usually had it when he was doing work. But this wasn't a case, no, he was searching for someone specific.
His gaze fixes itself on a particular girl, her hair was now [hair color] and was worn in a hairstyle that appeared to be it's natural state. The slight dead look of it was most likely from years of dying it multiple colors. Her shirt was baggy, a bit too big to be labeled as feminine clothing, which meant that it belonged to the man, most likely the one she was walking with. She wore a belt around a pair of jeans that bunched up the top edges, indicating that she'd lost a lot of weight and had not yet bought new clothing. The smile she wore and the laugh she laughed as she watched and listen to the man beside her talk showed she was interested, comfortable with him, indicating that they had been together for quite some time or had been good friends, but judging by the small ring on her finger, being together was much more likely.
Sherlock flips his coat collar down as the two sit at a bench at a bus station, which also demonstrated that he didn't have a car, which proved a couple theories Sherlock had come up with in the few minutes he'd been watching.
He struts toward the edge of the sidewalk, accidentally bumping into some blind gentleman and taking his protective sunglasses.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." He apologizes profously "I didn't mean to."
"It's quite alright." The man says
He waves a hand across his face to prove to Sherlock that he was in fact, blind, just as he'd thought judging by the way he walked and the dog he had with him.
Sherlock makes it to the end of the street, and slips on the glasses. After looking both ways before crossing the street swiftly, doing quite good at not drawing attention to himself, he makes a sharp turn, slows his pace, and begins to let his eyes wander. He examines the buildings, the passing cars and buses, the people, appearing very satisfied with life.
This, goes exactly as he planned it. He managed to catch your attention when he manages to bump into a young bloke, who cusses at him, but nevertheless continues walking after Sherlock profously apologizes.
"Hey! Watch how ya talk to people, you're gonna be like him some day!" You shout
Bingo.
You began approaching him, a gentle smile on your face.
"I'm sorry about that. London can be like that sometimes, but I assure you not all of us are like that." You explain calmly
You extend your [right/left] hand out, as if you needed to give him any more confirmation that it was indeed you.
"It's quite alright, love. I'm very much used to it." He explains "After all, it's something I've grown very familiar with."
Your facial expression drops as he lowers his sunglasses. Your hands fly up to your mouth as tears prick your vision, immediately escaping.
"No." You say "No, no. This is all wrong, you're dead."
Sherlock removes the sunglasses fully and pockets them. The man he already knew from the looks of it, your fiancé begins walking over. He throws an arm around you protectively.
"Excuse me, is there something we need to discuss?" He questions
"I'm afraid not. I've only come to see your lady friend here." Sherlock merely states
"My fiancé?" He asks, clearly trying to correct Sherlock and therefore assert his dominance
"It's been two years." You whisper
"Come again?" Sherlock asks
Of course he already knew your answer, but decided to test the waters a bit. You hold up two fingers, practically shoving them in his face.
"You abandoned Watson, Mrs Hudson, and myself for two years." You scold "We thought you were dead!"
"No way.." Your fiancé whispers "You're that fake detective!"
"I suppose so." He barely shrugs "Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to with-"
He reaches out to grab your hand and drag you off to who knows where, but you jerk away from him. Sherlock stares at you, appearing to be almost surprised at your reaction.
Your fiancé steps between the two of you you step closer to Sherlock in a warning manor. It appears the time that you both had spent was spent well together, because it appeared that you knew each other inside and out, especially when one was about to go ballistic.
Sherlock adjusts the collar of his jacket, his eyes scanning your face.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said no, Sherlock!" You repeat, much more aggressively "You can't just.. just.. fake your death and abandon everyone! You can't disappear for two years without a trace, save for the fleeting thought that you committed suicide because everything you ever said and did was an absolute lie!"
Sherlock continues to scan your face, beginning to circle round your fiancé so he could get closer to you.
"But, I managed to do it." He tells you, clapping his hands "Go on, ask me how."
No time to think. Only time to react.
You leap forward abruptly, throwing yourself at the curly haired man in a fit of pure rage. Sherlock doesn't flinch, but remains in place, his stare showing you that he was already caculating the probable outcome. And by his next expression, he proved to be correct with his ideal end result.
You're caught by your fiancé, who tries to restrain you and yank you back. You claw at the air, letting a string of profanities escape you as you thrust and jerk around in his arms. Sherlock scans the two of you.
"You bloody fucking abandoned us all for two fucking years! You-You just- Don't touch me!" You screech
People are beginning to stare, which is not very good. Sherlock scans the area, caculating an escape route to get off the street. In a flash, he plucks you from Mark's grasp and leads the two of you into an alleyway.
"Hey man, I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing but-"
"It's not a game. Just needed to get off the street. Not everyone can know that I'm alive, you know."
He sets you down onto your feet, watching you pouting like a little child, just as you used to do as a teenager. Perhaps old habits do die hard after all and it seems that he was not the only living proof of it.
Sherlock sharply inhales whilst clasps his hands together and points towards you.
"Now, we don't have much time, but I've come to say that I've come back, and that I have a case we need to solve."
He grabs your wrist and leads you off, away from Mark, who may try to follow you but fails as he disappears into a large crowd.
"Sherlock!" You shout "Sherlock!"
"What? You should be thanking me from how that absolute beast handled you."
"What do you mean by beast?"
Sherlock stops and turns around.
"Don't act like I didn't realize it because you and I both know that I realized it." He snaps "The way he talked to you, held onto you, how protective he became. It's not that hard to spot a controlling man."
You stand there, staring into those piercing blue eyes. You open your mouth, about to ask how he knew but he already figured out your move.
"He wasn't wearing a ring like you were, that ring was most likely stolen from his mother. But that's obvious due to his shabby outfit and scruffy appearance. Which tells that he's financially struggling most likely because he'd lost him job. But, the way he carries himself means he most likely resorted to crime." He explains
"Sherlock-" You try to interrupt
"Something that you most likely didn't realize until after you'd moved in with him, which is based off of how you wear his clothing. He gave you that ring after a fight that involved him doing something in particular because that's usually how domestic issues play out."
"Sherlock-" You interrupt
"The weight you've lost which is told by your jeans is most likely because of how he's begun to control how you eat, only giving you small portions so you'd begin to lose weight. But that's only because I know how much you love eating food, and no that's not me calling you fat it's simply explaining my observances of you."
"Sher-" You try again
"Also, the way that you on reflex screamed at him not to touch you once he grabbed you and yanked you away shows that he does such things often. Proving that he is controlling and not afraid to take over situations. Though, to most, you appear to be a happy giggly lucky couple, though there is a dark underbelly that most don't see."
"Sherlock!" You interrupt
With tears once again pricking your eyes, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug. Even going far enough as to peck his cheek.
"Welcome back, you bastard." You tell him
Sherlock freezes for a moment. Hesitating before wrapping his arms around your smaller frame.
"It's good to be back." He tells you
Sherlock abruptly stands up and pushes you off, grunting quietly as he adjusts his coat.
"Now then, off to find Watson!" He proclaims
"I guess." You shrug
"That's elementary, when I met you 3 years ago you were roughly barely 18 years of age. And your birthday is [birth date], which proves to me that you're now 21."
"Did you wait or something?" You joke
"Of course not." He waves you off "I have things to do."
"Still the same old asshole Sherlock, huh?" You joke
"You really should change up that language of yours." He insists
"It keeps you interested, doesn't it?"
"Only a little." He replies, prompting a laugh from you