It's now been three years since Sherlock died, and Watson was still going to therapy after seeing his friend commit suicide. On the anniversary of Sherlock's death, Watson went to visit Sherlock; he does this every year on Sherlock's birthday and other holidays, like Christmas. When Watson got to Sherlock's grave, he restrained himself from crying and began to talk to Sherlock.

"Hi, Sherlock. I miss you. I miss you a lot. It's boring here without you." Watson couldn't hold it any longer-he began to cry so hard that he fell to his knees at Sherlock's grave. "I have only two regrets-that I wasn't able to stop you, and that I couldn't tell you my true feelings for you...Sherlock, I-"

*Ring ring ring*

Before Watson could finish his sentence, his phone began to ring, so he paused for a moment and took his phone out of his coat pocket to answer. Before he answered it, he wiped his tears and made sure he didn't sound like he had been crying. "Hello."

"Hello, Watson. It's me, Mycroft."

Watson was stunned; he hadn't talked to Mycroft since Sherlock had died. "Oh, hi, Mycroft. We haven't talked in ages. How are you?"

"Fine, fine. I need you to come see me as soon as possible."

Watson paused for a a second, then asked, "Why? Where are you?"

"I'm at your flat right now, waiting for you. Hurry; you'll want to see this." Mycroft hung up the phone without saying another word. As Watson was putting his phone back into his coat pocket, he couldn't help but wonder...why does he want to talk to me all of a sudden? Watson slowly stood up and wiped his face with his hands. Before he left, he said goodbye to Sherlock.

"I'll see you on your birthday, Sherlock. Bye for now."

Then Watson slowly walked to his car and drove to his flat to see Mycroft. When Watson got back, Mycroft was there, just like he said he was. Mycroft and Watson stared at each other for about six seconds until Watson broke the silence.

"Hello, Mycroft. What did you need to talk to me about?"

Mycroft looked at Watson with a blank expression on his face for a few seconds, then finally spoke. "There's someone here who wants to speak to you."

Watson was puzzled. "You wanted to talk to me though, right? Is there someone else here?" Then into the living room, from the kitchen Watson heard a familiar voice.

"Hello, John."

Watson turned to see Sherlock standing just a few feet to his left. Watson was shocked into silence. He then walked over to Sherlock and punched him in the face, then wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist. John buried his face into Sherlock's chest and began to cry. Sherlock hugged John back tightly. "I'm sorry, John, I'm so sorry."

Watson pulled his face away from Sherlock's chest and asked, "Why? Why would you do this to me, Sherlock? Why?"

Sherlock looked deep into Watson's eyes. "It's a long story. I'll explain, but as of now I have only one thing to say to you, John."

Sherlock put his hand underneath Watson's chin to raise his head up. Then Sherlock slowly and passionately began to kiss John, and John kissed him back. After their lips separated, Sherlock moved his lips to Watson's ear and whispered, "I love you, John Watson."

Watson began to lightly cry. "I love you too, Sherlock Holmes." Then they began to passionately kiss each other, holding on to the other, while Mycroft left them alone to catch up on the last three years of their lives.