Author Note: This was the first thing I ever wrote for Sherlock so it's not as brilliant as I would have liked but I hope you enjoy it.
Reunion
"It's you."
John Watson looked up, in nothing less then surprise, at the man that had just stepped out of the shadows in front of him. He couldn't quite believe it and his head had begun to spin spiraling out of control. Was he dreaming again? It wouldn't surprise him if he was, he'd had this dream many a time after the consulting detective had fallen to his death over Reichenbach Falls. A delusion of the heart he'd taken to calling it but he couldn't deny the fact , a slightly disheveled yet still perfectly alive, Sherlock Holmes was stood in front of him three years on from his death. It was impossible but then again impossibility had always been a specialism of Sherlock's.
"How?" He muttered more to himself then anyone else, as he moved to place his hand on the thin arm in front of him. His other hand clenched into a fist, like he was debating punching Sherlock straight in the face for the suffering he'd put him through the previous years. All the memories of long nights wandering through 221b Baker Street like a ghost, lost without the man that had brought such excitement and meaning to his life. His consulting detective. "I watched you fall to your death, how are you alive? You bastard! It's been three bloody years, Sherlock. Three years I've thought you were dead. Three years I've been on my own. How do you think I felt about that?" Under all the anger and frustration, his voice was beginning to crack and he could feel his shoulders start to tremble as tears began to form in his eyes. Sherlock Holmes observed this and noted how, much alike him, John was fighting an internal battle with himself. Sherlock looked on questions running through his head. Had these emotions always been there? Had John always had this affect on him? What was he going to do now? He certainly hadn't thought he would become so conflicted; the moment he saw the former army doctor so moved by his return. He felt like he wanted to tell him a million things, a million reasons how he was still alive and how he managed it but he stayed silent. Instead he simply, if not awkwardly, reached out to hug his old flatmate and best friend.
It was the best he could do at that moment and when he felt John relax into it and shaking arms wrap themselves around him in return, he knew it was the right thing to do. He rested his head on top of the slightly ruffled blonde hair and stared at the wall behind him. Mumbled apologies of 'I'm sorry my dear Watson' and 'I didn't think it would effect you this much but it was necessary' fell from his lips and somewhere between them came his emotions, spilling out his mouth like a symphony played so beautifully on a violin. He stayed there for some time. Simply holding John in his arms until he had calmed down before clearing his throat to speak.
"Let's go home John." It was a simple request that held the promise John would get a full explanation of everything, the moment they returned to their old apartment. Somewhere along the walk home, their hands found each other and curled tightly together, refusing to let go and causing warmth to creep into the hearts of both parties. Emotions hung in the air between the pair of them but neither pushed the boundaries to speak about them, for fear of ruining the moment of content they were feeling. All that mattered was that they were together again- Doctor John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. The perfect partnership.