Chapter 3
John's mouth was slightly opened, his shoulders slacked. He was motionless. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. The only thing that popped into his mind was that, that wasn't – no, can't – be Sherlock Holmes. This was one of his old nightmares that had come back to haunt him. His eyes were deceiving him, making him see what he wanted to see. No, this… just wasn't fair.
"No… You're – you're not him. Sherlock – Sherlock's…dead," John sputtered, clenching his fists.
Sherlock just gazed at John, not showing any kind of emotion. He slowly walked towards him. "How can someone be dead if they were never dead to begin with?" Sherlock asked, stopping right in front of John.
John's mind kept on conflicting itself. Why wasn't he accepting that this man could be Sherlock Holmes? He had been hurt before by people claiming to be him. John continued to look at Sherlock to see if he was an illusion. Did he drink some medicine that had gone wrong? No, he hadn't. He knew that as a fact. Then… John's eyes widened again, finally realizing and accepting it.
Sherlock had been examining John, observing his movements and trying to figure out what he was thinking. Sherlock noticed John's eyes widened and smiled deeply. The next thing Sherlock knew was that he was on the ground. What happened? He felt excruciating pain from his cheek. He touched his cheek and noticed he was bleeding. John towering over him, his face mad with anger. He saw that John's left hand was balled, his knuckles red. John had punched him!
"Why did you do that for?" Sherlock exclaimed, starting to get up and wincing as he touched his cheek.
"You asked me what I'd do if you were alive and in this room!" John exclaimed, punching Sherlock again.
"Stop! I thought you'd be happy –"
"Happy? Three bloody years, Sherlock! For three years, do you have any idea just what I went through?" John hollered, poking his finger onto Sherlock's chest.
John picked up his hand to punch Sherlock again but Sherlock quickly gripped his arms. "John! Stop trying to punch me!" Sherlock yelled, not letting go of John's wrists.
"No!" John shrieked, slamming Sherlock against a wall. "Do you – do you honestly have any idea what I went through?" John panted, his voice slightly cracking.
Sherlock's eyes softened. He exhaled deeply as he looked at John.
"No, I don't. It must've been…awful –"
"Awful? It was hell, Sherlock! Hell! Are you laughing at the pain I had to endure? Did you ever consider how I'd feel about you faking your death?" John demanded, rage seething through him.
"No! I would never do that, John –"
"Bull shit, Sherlock," John said, walking away from Sherlock.
Sherlock looked at John in disbelief. He quickly followed John and gripped his shoulder, turning him so that he could face him.
"And do you think the past three years were easy on me, do you?" Sherlock replied, looking into John's eyes. "Because they weren't."
John was silent for a few moments, his head low. He was too busy of thinking about himself that he didn't consider Sherlock's feelings. He had no idea what Sherlock went through during those three years. John shook his head and finally stared at Sherlock. They were both silent for a few moments. Both were just gazing at each other.
John finally worked up the courage and said, "Are you back…for good?"
"I don't know for sure," Sherlock sighed, hesitating on answering the question.
"Why did you come back if you aren't sure?" John asked.
Before Sherlock could answer, there was a knock on the door.
"Who –?" John began, before Sherlock covered his mouth with his hand.
Sherlock stared at the door in dislike. Had someone discovered his secret and knew he was here?
"John? Are you in there?" a woman answered.
John walked towards the door before Sherlock grabbed him again and pulled him back.
"Sherlock, relax, it's just my – my girlfriend," John whispered so that only Sherlock could hear.
"John, I don't think you understand the situation here. No one can know I'm here. My life is in grave danger," Sherlock snapped back.
John sighed deeply and grabbed Sherlock's wrist, leading him to a hazelnut door with a gilded knob.
"This is my study. Heather never comes in here," John said, opening the door for Sherlock.
"Oh, don't I feel safe," Sherlock replied sarcastically, making his way inside.
"Just stay in there and don't come out until I say so!" John whispered angrily, shutting the door in Sherlock's face.
John made his way back to the living room and opened the black door. "Heather?" he asked.
"I was knocking. Why didn't you open the door sooner?" Heather asked.
"I barely heard you, love. I was asleep," John said, rubbing his eyes to prove himself. "I read your note. Change of plans?"
"Oh, the girls are to blame," she replied, sitting on a blue armchair.
"What happened now?" John asked, not really paying attention to her anymore. John gazed down the hall where his study was.
"Karen and Sharon got into a fight so the plans had to end early," Heather answered, noticing John wasn't looking at her. "John? John!" she exclaimed.
John snapped back into reality and looked at Heather. "Hmm?" John asked, smiling at her.
"Are you paying attention to me?" she demanded.
"Of course, why would you say –?"
"Then, what did I just say?" she questioned, crossing her arms.
"You were just complaining about your friends –"
"Complaining?" she exclaimed. "Oh, so it's my fault?"
"What?" John said, furrowing his brows. "I didn't even say that –"
"But you implied it!" she yelled.
"No, I didn't!" John replied.
Suddenly, there was a loud creak. John's eyes went wide. Sherlock! That git! Heather saw John's face and made a face.
"Are you cheating on me?" she asked, sternly.
"What? No!" John exclaimed.
Heather rose to her feet and marched down the hall. John followed her, panic seething through him. Heather opened a white door and inspected the room. It was their bedroom. Heather looked in the closet, the bathroom, and under the bed.
"Heather, you're being silly!" John answered, as she left the room and headed for the bathroom.
Heather opened the bathroom door and looked through the shower curtains and in the cupboard. She looked in the medical cabinet as well. She stalked away from the room and made her way to John's study. John grabbed Heather's arm and spun her around.
"Heather, stop! There's no one here. Why would I cheat on you?" John pleaded.
"If you've got nothing to hide, then you won't mind me checking your study," she replied coldly.
"Heather, my study is my personal privacy. Please don't invade it. What about trust?" John answered hastily.
Heather rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from John. She opened the hazel door and made her way inside. John followed behind her and noticed Sherlock wasn't there. Heather inspected the room until she was satisfied.
"No one's here," she whispered.
"I told you!" John exclaimed. "Heather, this has got to stop. We need to trust each other on these things. Why would I cheat on you? I'm marrying you, doesn't that mean something?"
"I know, I know," she sighed. "I'm sorry, John. I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" she asked, looking at him.
John looked at Heather and smiled slightly. "I can't stay mad at you forever. Of course, I forgive you," John said.
Heather smiled and hugged John tightly. John frowned a little. Was he just imagining this whole thing? Was Sherlock never really there? John clenched his fists. But he shook it off and focused on Heather. Heather went to make some tea for them in the kitchen. John was going to follow her when he noticed something was off in his study. His laptop was on his desk. He had placed it on the fireplace. John's body suddenly felt warm. He grinned as he made his way towards the laptop. He sat on his chair and opened his laptop. There was a word document opened. It was a message from him. It was a message from Sherlock!
It read:
Sorry, I left because something told me not to intrude on your….conversation. Meet me at the entrance of Hyde Park as soon as you're ready. And by ready, I mean now. – SH
John chuckled softly and erased the message, along with the document itself. John rose from his seat and made his way out of the room.
"Heather, I've got to go," he said, taking his coat.
"What? Why?" she asked.
"My break's over. I've got to be heading back to work," John replied, not lying but not being completely honest either.
Heather nodded in understanding and kissed John goodbye.
John parked his car and walked towards the entrance of Hyde Park. Immediately, he felt a hand on him and was spun around.
"Sher –"
"Honestly, John. It's as if you actually want me to be killed," Sherlock said, in the same disguise as before.
John smiled and replied, "Sorry."
"No, you're not," Sherlock answered, marching towards a secluded area.
John stumbled to catch up but managed. Sherlock had stopped abruptly so he smacked into him. John apologized again and waited for Sherlock to say something. Sherlock said nothing but he got rid of the wig and beard. He shook his head quickly.
"You have no idea how much that itches," Sherlock said.
John couldn't help but grin like a schoolgirl. Sherlock noticed and tilted his head but managed to smirk at him.
"What? Why are you smiling like that? Is there something on me?" Sherlock replied.
"No, no, no, it's that. It's been a long time since I've seen you. You haven't changed at all," John answered.
"John, if I knew you were going to be like this, I would've come sooner," Sherlock said.
"It's been confirmed, you haven't changed at all," John said.
Sherlock smiled and ignored the matter. "So… Heather," Sherlock replied.
"What about her?" John asked.
"Are you really going to marry her?" Sherlock questioned.
"Yeah, why, is there a problem?" John demanded.
"John, don't take this personally but I don't think she's for you," Sherlock said.
"What? Are you serious? How do you expect me not to take this personally? Sherlock, I love her –"
"You do? Well you should receive a medal because she's a pain in the arse," he replied.
"Sherlock, I'm the one marrying her not you!" John snapped back.
"John, you're making a mistake –"
"Sherlock, is that why you came back, to ruin my engagement with Heather?" John questioned angrily.
"What! No, I barely met her today and she's already a pain. She doesn't trust you and do you really want to marry someone like that? I didn't come back for that reason at all!" Sherlock answered, lying only slightly.
"Then why did you come back?" John exclaimed, ignoring Sherlock's first couple of statements.
"Because – because – err. Do you really want to hear me say it?" Sherlock asked desperately.
"It is if you ever want to see me again," John demanded, crossing his arms.
"John, it's for that very same reason why I came back!" Sherlock said.
"What?" John sputtered, confused.
"John… I – I – I missed you all right!" Sherlock exclaimed.
John's heart leapt. He looked at Sherlock and smiled slightly. "You missed me?" John asked.
"Don't make me repeat myself," Sherlock said.
John chuckled lightly. "Sherlock, I've missed you too. You were my best friend, you still are, and it was difficult not seeing you," John whispered.
Sherlock slowly smiled. "John, are you busy today?" Sherlock asked.
"I've got to go to work, why?" John replied.
"Call sick or anything, we've got to go," Sherlock answered.
"Go? Go where?" John questioned.
"We're going on a case, of course. What else?" Sherlock replied, turning his coat collar up. "Are you coming or not?"
"Oh, god yes," John exclaimed, happily.