It was almost three years to the day since John had lost Sherlock. He still referred to it as 'lost', he never really convinced himself that he had died that day. He knew Sherlock, he knew that Sherlock wouldn't let Moriarty get the best of him, especially after he had come so far chasing him.
But John had to put these thoughts out of his mind, tonight he had a much more pressing matter. As he leapt out of the cab into the cool autumn air, he straightened up his suit and strode across to the restaurant across the road. As he glanced at his watch, he was glad to see he was making good time, knowing full well that Mary would not.
He opened the restaurant door, the warming smell of food engulfing him into the building. He looked around for a secluded table, he didn't want to draw more attention to them than was necessary. He managed to find a spot in the far corner, out of the way of the central hustle and bustle.
He sat down and took off his jacket, and removed the little navy velvet box from the inside pocket. He started to pass it between hand to hand nervously. Mary had texted him earlier saying that she was leaving work, but John knew that traffic could be notorious around this area of London at this time of night. But he was prepared to wait all night for her, the only thing that would limit his waiting time was the closing time of the restaurant.
Mary had helped him so much during the worse times of his life. Not many people truly understood what he had gone through. Yes, people can lose a good friend, but how many lose someone that they had gone through so much with. Right from the day they met, through to those dreaded last days of his biggest case, it was a roller coaster. John knew that Sherlock had cared for him during that time and John hoped that Sherlock knew that he grew to feel the same back. Mary understood this more than any other person he had encountered, and he was incredibly thankful for her. Today he would be able to give her something back, something that they both wanted to happen.
John's mind started to wander as he waited. As he regularly did, he thought of what Sherlock would do if he was still around. Would he had been happy for John? Maybe not, Sherlock tended to get jealous if anyone detracted John's attention from him, Sarah and Jeanette found that out. John knew that if Sherlock was still alive that he would have been his best man at the wedding, now he was left with the options of Stanford or Lestrade, neither of which he was particularly close to now. The thought of Sherlock not being around to share in his big day was the worse bit of it for John. There would be none of Sherlock's deductions and witticism to lighten up the day.
The restaurant was relatively busy but it wasn't packed, John was aware of people passing him, but he ignored them, instead he concentrated on staying calm and collected. He decided to glance down the menu to look at the options. Suddenly he was aware of a person sat in the seat opposite the table, normally Mary gave him advanced warning of when she would arrive so it couldn't be her, and she normally wore bright coats.
"Hello, John."
John froze. It was a very recognisable and homely voice, but it wasn't Mary's voice, and he knew it couldn't be his voice. Maybe it was an illusion, sometimes John had them, he would see the dark curls swish past him, just like the old days. Then he would blink and the illusion would vanish. He hoped that this would happen now. He was dead. It couldn't be him, it just couldn't
"How are you keeping, John?"
John's heart rate immediately began to race, he put down his menu list and looked up at the blue eyes that belonged to the person opposite. At that moment his tongue froze and his head went into a spin. 'How is he here. He was dead, I saw him fall. I even took his pulse. Completely dead.' Then the anger overwhelmed the confusion, 'why did he leave in the first place. Was I not good enough, did he want a new companion? Of course he had to do it tonight of all nights, why now, he could probably tell what was planned for tonight by a single glance.'
"Sherlock, why are you here..."
"Look I realise this could take some explaining but..."
"No, I don't want your explanations, I have an important night tonight, I don't need you barging in and interrupting everything."
"I know John, I didn't intend for it to happen this way bu-"
"I never intended this to happen, yet alone this way. So how did you propose for it to happen? Did you just expect me to be walking down the street and then you would just appear and everything would be ok? Because that will not happen Sherlock, I am sorry, I have a life now, I have Mary-"
"Ahh Mary, I expect she is the lucky person that you're planning to propose to tonight?"
"Yes she is, and it is not a plan. I will propose tonight."
"Just let me explain what happened three years ago, by my reckoning, we have around 5 minutes before she gets here."
John was getting more and more impatient, it was all going so well, and then he had to turn up. How was he meant to explain it all to him in 5 minutes, 'I'm sorry John, I fell off a building but then I survived, but guess what, I didn't come back for you, I decided to wait 3 years for the pain to have almost gone and then I will make a miraculous return.' John was also angered at the fact that Sherlock hadn't cared enough about him to return to him, surely Sherlock knew what it would do to him, yet he just left him on his own. They had been working so closely in those last few months, John had felt that he knew Sherlock better than anyone else, even Mycroft, but obviously that was a wrong assumption. But then a wave of anguish swept over John, he hadn't seen him in so long, and he had never though he would see him again, he just wanted to embrace him to confirm that it was him, alive and well. "Sherlock, can you really explain it all-"
"Oh John, I'm surprised."
"Surprised at what?"
"You didn't ask how I knew it would be 5 minutes, now around 3 minutes, you used to be the first person to ask."
"Well that was then, this is now." John had to get out of there, he needed air. He stood up and tried to make his way past all the chairs and tables that now seemed to be barricading his way to the exit.
"..But John, aren't you pleased to see me?"
"I don't know, I honestly, don't know. We used to see each other every day, we worked and lived together. I loved it, I used to be so proud to be known as Sherlock's blogger, but after The Fall, I was so broken and defeated. But then I found Mary, and tonight meant so much to me, so much to both of us, but now you had to show up. No Sherlock, in fact I am not that happy to see you."
He stood up and finally managed to break the wall of chairs. Once outside he took deep breaths of fresh air and tried to calm himself down, Mary would be here soon. He would have to try and convince Sherlock to give him a few hours with Mary, John wasn't prepared prepared to put off tonight.
"I was hoping, that we could try going back to how we used to be, back to normal..."
"NORMAL, WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT NORMAL, YOU'RE A SOCIOPATH, YOU SAID SO YOURSELF, SO DON'T COME COME TO ME SAYING THAT EVERYTHING CAN BE NORMAL AGAIN." He grabbed Sherlock's lapels with his left hand, and with his right he punched Sherlock square in the nose, which in turn knocked Sherlock to the ground. He needed to release the feelings that had built up for the last 3 years, and he did not regret his chosen way to do it. He knew that it did not hurt Sherlock as much as the last few years had hurt him.
Suddenly John felt arms around him, pulling him back telling him to stop and calm down. He turned around and there was Mary with her gorgeous hair and eyes, his one rock in life at the minute. He embraced her, the tears falling down into her coat. He had ruined the evening completely, the one thing he didn't want to do. John looked down at Sherlock on the ground, and saw his eyes looking at him, he saw that he meant every word that he had said, he really was sorry, and he wanted John's forgiveness, that was the main reason he had returned today, not to explain what had happened up on that roof, he wanted to see John again, to see him alive and healthy. Not like Sherlock had felt in the last few years.
John released himself from Mary, and went to helped Sherlock up. They looked at each other, almost as in recognition, the explanation from Sherlock could wait. John enveloped himself around Sherlock, wrapping his arms around the sturdy torso that Sherlock had, inhaling the familiar scent that Sherlock had, that they had once shared when they were living in 221B.
"Sherlock, oh Sherlock, how could I-"
"John, John it's ok, I'm here now."