Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own 'Sherlock'. All rights reserved for the original Author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and for BBC bringing us their own incarnation of our characters we write about from 'Sherlock' BBC Original.

(Disclaimer applies as well to all future chapters.)

Warnings:Story takes place after Series II of 'Sherlock' BBC Original, so it will includes spoilers. It is rated M for sexual content (M/M) in later chapters, so if that's not your thing, you may want to read elsewhere.

Authors Note: This is my first ever attempt at a fanfic. I Just couldn't help myself. Un Beta'd and Un'Britpicked. Reviews are welcomed! Please bear with me and last but least least enjoy!

Sherlock walked John to the couch to explain everything. Just as Sherlock was going to sit down John beat him to the punch, sitting down on the edge motioning Sherlock with his right hand to come sit next to him. Compliantly, Sherlock walked over and laid down placing his head on top of John's lap.

"I meant sit next to me. . " John said as he hung his head while shaking his head to hide his smile. "same ol'sherlock." John thought to himself.

"Would you like me to move?" Sherlock ask genuinely, "I could sit. I ju-"

"It's fine Sherlock." John spoke so softly that Sherlock barely heard, "It's fine. ," he let out a second time patting him his head in the most reassuring way.

They sat in silence after for some time. Sherlock had told John that when he was ready to know he would speak, but only then. He didn't want to force John into doing anything, especiallyafter what he put John through. After some time passed John let him know he was ready. Sherlock simply answered with a nod.

He began talking to John, explaining everything that had happened. From the moment that John had left Bart's till the moment that he came back. Telling John about the the three men sent out to kill him, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. How Sherlock found a way to keep them alive by making sure Moriarty stayed safe. He continued explaining how Moriarty shot himself just to prove that he was going to make sure Sherlock jumped. As well as how Moriarty failed to spot Molly as a important person. Even about how he has asked Mycroft to keep an eye for John. Seeing the disgusted face that Sherlock made at just the mention of his brothers name made John chuckle.

"He still loathes him, even now. That's Sherlock for you." John thought to himself.

Every now and then as Sherlock spoke, John would let out a mmhmm's and ah just to signal to Sherlock that he was still listening.

John moved some of his curls that had fallen on Sherlock's face. He had finally gotten the courage to get over his anger. He didn't want anything blocking his view of Sherlock. Even though Sherlock has been home for a little over a week John hadn't been able to look at Sherlock without wanting to beat him to a pulp.

That was enough of a reason to make sure John avoided Sherlock in every which possible. He didn't want to make the mistake and looking at Sherlock, more so, to be looked at with the beautiful blue sad eyes.

Those eyes that held so much guilt, so much pain.

So during all that time, John made sure he avoided him and kept himself busy. Even with all the extra hours he put in at the clinic, John felt like he had too much free time. Then he would take over more cases at the clinic and he would feel overwhelmed, it would begin to seem as if he didn't have enough time to help them all.

Time. Never enough or always too much. Time was all John wanted. When Sherlock was dead, he wanted to talk to him face to face. He wanted Sherlock back. Time had stolen his best mate from him. Which in the end had stolen time from John to live. John clenched his jaw together as he sat there running his hands through Sherlocks' curls.

Then there was too much time, too much time apart. Three years; 36 months. John lived those months alone. Each day passing he felt as if more and more of him was withering away. In those days, too much time had passed and John knew his time was cutting short.

Then out of nowhere, Sherlock came back and this was too much for John. Too much too take in, too much in so little time. Sherlock wanted him to not be mad, but John had too little time to cope with his hurt and betrayal. He let out a soft chuckle, because presently he felt like he wanted all the time with Sherlock.

His feelings with time were almost bipolar, he was going mad. He was sure of it. John looked down at Sherlock and bit his lip. He fought back more tears, Sherlock was back, it seemed too good to be true. Could he trust it, time that is, could he trust that he could have all the lost time with Sherlock back? The time that was stolen from him.

"John?" Sherlock let out softly knocking John back into reality. He forgot how tranquil Sherlocks voice was. How easy it was for him to daze out.

Sherlock tilted his head giving him a quizzical look. John didn't realize that he had stopped listening to Sherlock. He had stopped caring about all that worthless trivial stuff. What mattered now was that Sherlock was here. Laying down on his lap. He felt Sherlock's heart beating under his right bandaged hand while running his left and through Sherlocks dark beautiful curls. He thought to himself, "Breathing, Real, Alive. . .Alive, right here on my lap. Alive. . ." he grinned, "Time to live again."

"Hmm. . " was all John said as he continued to stroke Sherlocks curls.

"I'm sorry, I truly am. I didn't realize how muc-"

"Sherlock shut up. I don't want to talk about this anymore." John let out in annoyance.

Sherlock looked up hurt and confused. He wanted to explain everything to John. He wanted to tell John more, not just about why he left. But what he had learned about himself while he was out of John's life, everything he learned, John needed to know. Yet how could he let him know?

"Oh don't give me that look Sherlock. I didn't mean it that way. I meant I don't care"

"Oh. . . and how is that supposed to be a better explanation John?"

"Really Sherlock, I swear it STILL surprises me that for a consulting detective you still fail to deduce what I mean," John let out a soft giggle, "I forget you fail to own human emotions." He teased Sherlock while poking him in his chest with his bandaged hand.

"That was a little cold" Sherlock said with a grin on his face, "and you say I'm the one who lacks 'human' emotions, I think you have the roles reversed Doctor Watson" Sherlock lets out teasing him and poking John's chest in return with his long index finger.

"I learned from the best." John lets out beaming, "plus three years helps y'know? I mean . . . one needs to learn to flip the switch. Y'know? With all the interviews, the people staring, rumors . . ."

He let out looking towards the lit fireplace. His face went serious, the topic went back to the past. John let out a heavy sigh as his serious face changed to a hurtful expression.

"John. . . " Sherlock let out as he reached his right hand up to John's face while reaching his other hand to grab his bandaged one, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to steal your humanity."

John let out an even heavier sigh than before, "You didn't Sherlock, 'Time' did, it stole my humanity." He realized that Sherlock's hand was still on his touching his left cheek. He suddenly felt his face getting red and heart beginning to race. John tried to brush it off and make it seem as if he wasn't nervous, which he was, but the dim room was enough to hide his flushed cheeks. A chuckle came from John, "No wonder people talk Sherlock."

"Let them." Was all the answer he gave, along with a soft smile.

How he wanted to give into his emotions. To what he was feeling. He brought his hand back down onto his stomach to think. In spite of all he was feeling, he knew it was much too soon. Just the same Sherlock wanted time to go by faster. No, he needed time to go by much faster. Those three years apart felt like an eternity to Sherlock. He let out a soft chuckle.

"What's so funny, de-tec-tive. ." John asked as he pulled a curl each time he said a syllable.

"Nothing at all." Sherlock smiled.

"Hmm. . . doesn't. . . seem. . .like. . . nothing." John said in a more playful tone, this time pulling a curl when saying each word.

"That hurts John."

"You keep evading Sherlock." John said while continuing to pull at Sherlocks curls.

Sherlock turned to look at Him, who was now staring down straight into the detective's eyes.

Sherlock let a soft smile come across his face and stated softly, "Nothing at all dear John, I just realized, I hate it too."

John tilted his head at Sherlock with a confused look he replied, "What?"

Sherlock turned away from John and back to the ceiling, but he didn't answer.

John still waited repeating himself, "What 'it' do you hate as well, Sherlock"

"Time." Was all he said as he closed his eyes and slept for the first time in almost a week.

Oh my lord of all Sugar crumpets, Sherlock sleeps? Well at least he got some cause I sure didn't. Wrote this in the wee hours of the morning. So please forgive me for typos, weird sentencing and what not. Oh I hope you enjoy :) remember reviews are welcomed :)

-Ron

Re-edited. Thanks again to Kr-Nl for helping (Check out her fic "Unravelling Sherlock")

Also even more thanks to these beautiful people who added me onto their author Alert:
Kr-NL, , Annoyedgirl, Lily and Shadow, ARTofDEDUCTION, Tabbica, LunaDragonPoet, Aquarius2282, Kleoette, thelightfantastiquen

Also thanks to these equally as beautiful person who added my story to their favorites:
Onezumi Daisuke

Then theres these beautiful people who did both: Kira Ferris, Paula Berryman - You guys deserve cookies - O O