A/N: Reichenbach feels. Enjoy! (:

Sherlock is not allowed to:

1. conduct experiments involving body parts on the kitchen table

2. conduct experiments involving explosives in the flat

3. neglect his health by eating enough to sustain the life of a gnat

4. neglect his health by sleeping as much as the average vampire

5. leave John

6. die

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He isn't dead. He can't be. Believe in him.

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To-Do List:

1. check fridge for contaminated food substances or parts of the human anatomy

2. check microwave for eyeballs or decapitated parts of the human anatomy

3. check all kitchenware for severed parts of the human anatomy

4. throw out any and all questionable substances found in kitchenware

5. buy milk and other edibles

6. force-feed Sherlock

7. write his eulogy

8. attend his funeral

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He can't be dead. He just can't be. Believe in him.

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Blog last updated yesterday at 10:23pm

He was my best friend and I'll always believe in him.

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He's not coming back. Stop deluding yourself.

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John should:

1. get on with his life

2. quit moping like a widower

3. go back to work at the surgery

4. socialize with someone other than the skull and Mrs Hudson

5. forget Sher –

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No. Anything but that. Anything but forget. I'll never forget him.

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Messages (unsent):

6 months ago: Stop pretending. –JW

4 months ago: This isn't funny. –JW

3 months ago: Come back, dammit. –JW

2 months ago: Just please don't be dead. –JW

2 weeks ago: You insufferable twat. –JW

4 days ago: Don't do this anymore. –JW

Messages (sent):

1 minute ago: Come home, Sherlock. Please –JW

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Messages (received):

30 seconds ago: Yes. –SH

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John stumbled up the stairs to his – their – flat dazedly, and wasn't exactly surprised to see a familiar figure draped carelessly over the sofa.

Sherlock actually sat up to acknowledge his presence, something he never would have done before he died. "Go on, then," he sighed, rolling his eyes slightly, "You know you want to do it."

John did. Very much so.

The punch knocked Sherlock back against the cushions, a huff escaping him as he sprawled backwards. John had a mean right hook.

He sat up, wincing slightly.

"Sorry," John said unapologetically, "it's –"

"I know, I know," Sherlock waved him off impatiently, "it's usually subtext."

And then he smirked.