AN: So..yes, I realize that I don't need to do this. But guys. My feels are killing me and I don't have a proper shock blanket. I have to have something to focus on. So I'm doing this.

I got to listening to a song that I've not heard in ages and it kind of reminded me of Johnlock..and well, yeah. This is what happens. Pardon it if it's OOC..I'm new to the fandom and suck at characterization.

Hope you enjoy.

The flat was still so quiet. Three years had passed since the Fall, but John still couldn't get passed how quiet it was. He hadn't left like he'd figured he would because of Mrs. Hudson. He wouldn't just walk out like that when she was just as big of a wreck as him. She had lost someone who was like a son to her.

Still, as John sat staring at the blank screen of the television, he found himself looking back on the past. He knew there was no use, that it was gone, never coming back. Just like Sherlock.

He'd tried moving on. Tried dating more. But nothing held his interest anymore. He'd slipped back into his post-war haze. It was weird, how different things had been, only to fall back to the same routine he'd been through after he came back from the war. Nightmares, hardly eating. He wasn't doing his blogging anymore. He'd sometimes run into Lestrade in town when he ventured out for milk or food when supplies got low. But it was the same old 'how are you doing' stuff every time.

He always answered the same. 'Yeah, fine. And you?' It was just routine for him. He wasn't used to a routine like that anymore.

As such, when he woke one morning after an actual full night's sleep - a very rare occurance in the past three years - he knew that something was going to happen. He was up and ready for the day within five minutes - something he'd learned to do when dealing with Sherlock during a case. As soon as he headed into the sitting room, dressing robe around him to fight off the chill of the morning as he had his cuppa, he froze completely when he saw a group in the living area. Right in the midst was the one person he thought was gone forever.

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

Lestrade, who was looking just as confused, looked up at John, who looked bewildered and beyond pissed. "I don't think that's something can answer you, John."he responded. "We'll just leave you two to talk.."

The few people there then left. John watched them disappear before he looked at the man still standing in the middle of the room, looking around.

"You never changed anything. Everything's exactly how it was last time I was here."he commented.

John stared at him for a long while before he moved towards him. He never touched him, just walking around and making sure it was actually him. His eyes narrowed when he figured out that it was. "Where the hell have you been?"he demanded, crossing his arms.

"John, I-"

But he was cut off by the punch that hit him the next second.

Sherlock cupped his jaw and stared at John for a while. "I suppose I deserved that.."

John glared at him. "I thought you were dead."he snipped. "What were you thinking?!"
Sherlock let his hand fall and met his gaze. "I was thinking of keeping you safe,"he responded. "I thought that was made clear by the call."

John just gave him a long look before he turned his back and headed into the kitchen. He was not having this argument before he had his cuppa. It was not happening. He'd never make it through it otherwise.

His phone beeped and he glanced at it to see a message from Lestrade. Everything okay? -GL

John responded quickly with a negative answer before he finished making his tea. He was not going to deal with this today. He couldn't. This was too much.

So it was a surprise when he was jerked around carefully within the next minute by Sherlock, who gave him this look that made John feel like he was being x-rayed. "I know that you weren't expecting this. That's why I did it. Because I had to. To keep you safe. Because if I hadn't, you would've been killed."

John shook his head in bemusement and spoke. "Did you at least tell Mrs. Hudson?"he asked. "She's a wreck thanks to you,"

It was harsh and he knew it, but it seemed to snap Sherlock into action. The taller male nodded and spoke. "First thing this morning, I called and told her what I had done."he answered. "I..."

John raised an eyebrow, turning back to his tea. "Don't bother. I'm over it. Just let me be. It's been three years, I moved passed it."

Sherlock frowned. "No you haven't."he countered.

John gave a shaky laugh and looked back at Sherlock. "Please, Sherlock. Just please, stop playing games with me. I buried enough friends in the war...please stop making me do that over again."he said. "Just stop."

It was only then that Sherlock realized just how much his actions had hurt John. He hadn't expected it to affect the doctor like that. He thought John would just move on like nothing happened.

John took a single sip of his tea before he decided he needed out. Just out of the flat, away from this situation.

Once he was gone, Sherlock stared at the door in surprise. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected that John would get hurt either way.

John came back a few hours later, sure it was just some joke or illusion. But when he saw Sherlock sitting in his chair, playing with the violin, he knew it wasn't.

Lestrade had caught him and explained a lot of information that he had gotten from Mycroft himself.

John couldn't help but curse both of the Holmes brothers in his mind. They made things so difficult.

Sherlock looked up at John and stopped. "John."

John moved and sat down across from Sherlock like they used to do. "Where do we go from here?"he asked before the detective could say anything more. "Are we just supposed to forget everything that happened the past three years and move on like everything's okay? Because it's not. It's not okay, Sherlock. It's so far from okay."

"I never meant for you to get hurt."Sherlock said. "I thought I was keeping you safe."

John ran a hand down his face before he spoke again. "Sherlock, you are my best friend. It hurt. I had to freaking bury you, or so I thought. Of course it hurt. Did you honestly think I cared so little for you?"

Sherlock frowned. "I'd hoped. I had hoped that it hadn't bothered you."

John shook his head. "Unbelieveable."he spat.

Naturally, Sherlock flinched. He knew John was upset with him. He had every right to be after what he had done to the ex army doctor.

It didn't even take them until that night to settle things and slip back into their old routine. Well, almost their old routine. John was still bothered by the stunt.

Sherlock didn't question it when John went to bed early that night.

No, his questioning began after he headed to check in when he heard the doctor shout out sometime near three in the morning. It was odd, hearing such a thing. When he realized it was due to a nightmare, he sat down beside John on the bed and said nothing.

John leaned against him, taking comfort in the closeness. It had been a while since he'd been close to anyone.

"Everything's always okay in the end, you know."Sherlock said after a while, letting a bit of sympathy echo into his voice.

John smiled softly. "Then it must be close to it. Because it's getting to being okay again."

This got a laugh from the detective and a soft kiss to the forehead, a soothing gesture that Sherlock had picked up their last few months together before Reichenbach happened.

John was alright after that. The nightmares faded until they were gone again. Things settled down back to normal. The world found out that Sherlock was still alive, and the two went back to solving crimes. There were still fights, and at times, John would crash at Lestrade's, just for an escapse since the man understood that when Sherlock and John had a bad row, they needed time apart, and they couldn't get that in the flat.

But it never got too bad.

So yes. I'm a bit better now.

Any thoughts would be lovely? This might be continued, if I have the proper inspiration for it..