"Are you sure about this John?" Mrs Hudson folds her arms across her chest, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Yes. I just- I need to get away for a bit," John tugs at the sleeve of his new work uniform, "the whole thing with Moriarty and… Sherlock, is still a bit raw. Getting away might help. It's not for long though, I'm only helping out for a few weeks. I'll be back home and at the surgery in no time."
She sighs, "okay, be careful. How do you know these people anyway?"
"It's my aunt Carolyn. She owns a plane and runs her own airline. Her son, Arthur, works there too, so I won't be alone." John smiles slightly, hoping this will please Mrs Hudson enough that he can go back to packing his bag.
"Well, family is all we have in the end, right John? Have a nice time, I'll keep the flat nice for you," Mrs Hudson smiles and leans up to kiss John's cheek before heading for the door. Waving, she starts down the stairs to her own flat. When John hears the door close, he drops onto his bed. He rolls onto his back, careful not to crumple his uniform, and breathes noisily through his nose.
He'd had a rough few weeks after Sherlock's death. Not only would the media refuse to leave the doorstep, his nightmares had returned and some days he needed to use his cane. He'd managed to hide it from most of the people he knew well, except Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, but then again, they were being especially observant. He'd taken a few shifts at the surgery, thanks to Sarah, but found it difficult to concentrate; deciding moping around the flat would be more entertaining.
But then his aunt Carolyn had called, saying she needed some help for a few trips for her self-proclaimed 'airdot', and how she wouldn't be asking him if she wasn't desperate because "we know what you're like Johnny, always looking for something new and interesting to spend your time on." He hadn't seen her in a while, and always enjoyed the company of his cousin Arthur, and decided to go on a few trips.
Two weeks later and he's packed a bag and is waiting for a cab to take him to Heathrow. When it arrives, Mrs Hudson pulls him in for another hug and waves him off. John is only going to be away for a few weeks, but he's going to miss Mrs Hudson (and her baking and tea).
When the taxi arrives, he throws a few notes at the driver and climbs out. Arthur had been determined to meet him in the car park, but he was nowhere to be seen.
He waits a few moments before he sees Arthur running towards him waving his hand, "John! John!"
John smiles as Arthur pulls him in for a tight hug, "nice to see you again Arthur. How's Carolyn?"
Arthur is beaming as he motions for them to start walking, "she's fine. As are Martin and Douglas. They're really excited to meet you. How have you been? You were working as a GP for a while, weren't you?"
John winks, "oh you know, curing running noses, soothing sore muscles, saving a few lives, just the usual at the surgery."
Arthur laughs. He'd always looked up to John. He'd become a doctor at a fairly young age and then joined the army. While in Afghanistan, John had managed to save many lives, as well as taking one or two, earning the title of a war hero. Arthur on the other hand had been determined to become a pilot so he could fly Gertie, and until that happened was content with working as a steward with his mum, which he would admit was fun, but not as exciting as some of the things John had done in his life.
When they arrive at the plane, Arthur motions for John to board first. John looks around his new workspace, for the next four weeks anyway, and spots his Aunt Carolyn.
"Ah, welcome to MJN John, thank you for helping out," she calls, waving to the two men she had been talking to, indicating they should follow her, "I assume Arthur hasn't talked your ear off yet. This is Martin, captain"
"Hi."
"and Douglas, co-pilot,"
"Hello."
John smiles and shakes their hands. Before he can speak, they hear talking from a small group of people, "that will be our guests. Martin, Douglas, go do the checks and get ready. Arthur, show John around the plane. I'll greet them today," Carolyn says before marching towards them. John is shown around and Arthur tells him to hide his bag in the kitchen.
"So what are you going to do in between flights, John? We usually all go home and…" Arthur trails off.
"I don't know, get a hotel room or something. I won't go back to the flat, I'm here because I want to get away. It'll be a nice break."
Arthur smiles sadly, but carries on, nudging John's stomach with his elbow, "I'll show you how to make surprising rice. That always makes Martin and Douglas happy! Maybe you can show some of your friends when you get home."
The four weeks pass quickly for John, and he soon finds himself on his final flight from Newcastle to London. It's just a hired domestic flight for a comedy duo, but meaningful to John all the same. They arrive safely, and see the pair through the terminal, the crew turn to John, who had brought his bag from the plane.
"Thank you for all your help John. Lovely to see you," Carolyn says.
"If you ever need any more help, I'll be happy to oblige," John smiles and lets Carolyn kiss his cheek, "It was nice to meet you two, and good to see you again." The crew smile and exchange handshakes and promises of seeing each other again soon. John spots his taxi, "I'd best be off. Mrs Hudson'll be wondering where I am if I'm late. See you again!"
He spends his taxi ride quietly, drinking in the sights of London. When they arrive at Baker Street John climbs out, handing some money over as he goes, and stands, staring up at the building he'd come to call home, surprised at his sudden longing for his arm chair, a mug of tea and the murmurs of rubbish daytime tv.
He knocks on the door, and when opens John is greeted by Mrs Hudson wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing. "John! Welcome back," Mrs Hudson gives him another tight hug, "did you have a nice time?"
"I did, thank you. It was nice to see Arthur and Carolyn again, and I feel much better," John smiles, because he does. He feels lighter and happier than he had four weeks ago, all thanks to the MJN Crew who had waved him off with lots of 'good job's and a promise of 'see you again soon' just an hour previous.
Mrs Hudson pats John's arm fondly before speaking again, "a gentleman arrived about half an hour ago, asking for you, by the way."
John's eyebrows knit together.
"I knew you would be home fairly soon so told him to wait upstairs for you, if that's alright?"
"That's, that's fine. I suppose I'd better go see what he wants." John all but sprints up the stairs, curious as to who would actually want to see him after his month-long absence. Lestrade or Stamford would have texted, and everyone else he knew had been told not to contact him until he was home. Throwing the living room door open, John stops dead in his tracks, his bag falls to the floor.
"Sherlock?" He croaks.
The man with the curly hair, blue scarf and long coat turns from examining the mantelpiece and smiles, "welcome home, John."