John lay in bed in Sarah's flat. The place was quiet - she was out at work. He hadn't really felt like doing much over the last couple of days. There was no work available for him, and he wasn't doing his usual daily routine of flying round the streets of London with Sherlock so there wasn't much else to do. John wanted to tell himself that he liked the peace and quiet for a change, but he wouldn't believe himself when he said it. His phone beeped next to the bed. He sighed. Sherlock hadn't sent him any messages for a day or so but every time it beeped he thought it was probably him. That made trying to ignore him even more difficult.

He "misses" you, you know. - MH

John blinked at his phone. Now Sherlock was getting his brother to do his dirty work for him. Marvellous. He'd have the whole Holmes family onto him eventually and all he wanted was for them to leave him alone. He replaced the phone on his bedside table and ignored the message. three minutes later, the phone beeped again.

Sherlock Holmes does not "miss" people. But he "misses" you. You're turning my brother soft, Doctor Watson. - MH

"What the hell?" John sat up in bed. If this was supposed to inspire guilt in him it was doing a very bad job. If anything it was making him feel uncomfortable. He got out of bed and went into the kitchen to make coffee for himself. Mycroft talking about feelings was very odd. Mycroft talking about Sherlock's feelings was downright weird.

John wandered slowly past the lake in the park. A small group of children stood huddled together on the bank throwing bread to the ducks and giggling. The sun was slowly disappearing over the horizon and although it was definitely chilly, the evening air was crisp and bright. After being stuck in the flat all day, John had needed to clear his head and get some fresh air.

He was so preoccupied looking at the lake that he didn't notice anyone else until a voice made him jump.

"You're not currently working so you have no reason to get up early. I know you're not a morning person so you're unlikely to leave the flat before midday. It's a nice evening, people like to go on walks on beautiful evenings like this. This is the nearest park to Sarah's flat which is the only place available to you where you could stay for a significant period of time on such short notice. You like to eat dinner late so if you came for a walk it would be before you got hungry." John stopped walking and turned to where the voice was coming from. A tall figure wearing a black coat sat on one of the benches on the other side of the path. "Thus putting Doctor John Watson in this park at this time."

"Sherlock."

"Yes. I am."

John was surprised that he didn't feel angry with Sherlock. He thought he'd want to walk off and leave him but actually, he didn't want to do that at all. He walked over to the bench at sat down. Both men watched the ducks for a minute or two.

"Mycroft said you missed me"

"I don't miss people."

"I know."

"But he wasn't wrong."

John turned to look at Sherlock in surprise. "Excuse me."

"I said," Sherlock replied looking back at John "that he wasn't factually incorrect. I believe a preoccupying thought of a person who leaves one's life is indeed the act of missing someone."

"Well when you put it so nicely..."

"But I am also correct in saying I don't miss people so please believe me that my surprise is just as great as your own."

"Wow Sherlock, with lines like that no wonder you're a hit with all the ladies..."

"John, I do believe that we're missing the point of the conversation. You left the flat two days ago and haven't returned." John said nothing in reply. "I understand what you said to me before you left and I realize the sentiment you expressed but I cannot confess to understanding it."

John stood up. "Now I remember why. Sherlock you're completely insufferable..."

"But, please answer me this. If you confess to miss me so much if I died then why leave? That doesn't strike me a particularly logical."

John sat back on the bench and sighed. He was really bad at putting thoughts like this into words. He was really bad at this whole "feelings" thing but compared to Sherlock he was an expert. He took another deep breath, trying to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling he always got when he was trying to express himself.

"I...felt that, if I just stopped seeing you put yourself in danger, it would mean I didn't have to worry. I'd be able to ignore it, and get on with my life, and not have to see you nearly get killed."

"How would you not being there stop me dying?"

John sighed in exasperation. Sherlock was not getting it. "It wouldn't..."

"So I'd die anyway how do your actions resolve anything?"

"Because I wouldn't have to stand there and watch my best friend die. I'd get a phone call or something and it would happen away from me and I wouldn't have to watch it happen or know that I could have done something about it." John's outburst startled them both.

"I don't have friends..."

"Sherlock, I swear to god..." John's frustrations were growing and he was about to walk off.

"...but, I did miss you. And I need you on this case. And you're good company."

"Oh good, I'm a laugh to have around. That's a perfectly good reason for me to spend my time worrying that I'm going to see someone else I care about shot in the head." He stood up and walked away.