The next day:
John couldn't have been more nervous as he woke up that following morning. Was this all a dream? Is Sherlock really here with him again? As he sat up and rubbed the sleep from eyes the answer was clear. All that rang on his ears was violin music. That same violin music he hasn't heard in forever. All of the sudden he is mad. Raging, even. He doesn't understand. Any normal person would be ecstatic and would run in hugging the tall man with dark brown hair. But he doesn't feel that way. He's never felt angrier.
He ran, no bolted from his bed, down the stairs and into the study. He just stood there with his fist clenched at his sides, waiting for Sherlock to speak.
Sherlock stopped playing. He sensed johns presence in the room, without turning around he smiled " Good morning John, sleep well?"
John stood there with a puzzled look on his face not really sure how to answer. He has never been asked a question like that from Sherlock.
John remained quiet and Sherlock decided that it was his turn to talk. Turning around he set his violin down on the table between the two large windows and focused all his attention on John. He could tell by the way John was standing and the way his foot tapped that he was beyond ferrous. "John, I'm... I'm sorry, but I had to."
"No."
"It was either me or you, John. He was going to kill you and Lestrade and Miss Hudson if I didn't. I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason you died". He said that last line softer than the rest of his words and John noticed it too. He didn't know why but it made him feel a little better. He still needed to get to the bottom of why he would do something like that to him. Why didn't he let him in on his plan to come back to life? He needed to know why he felt it was even a good choice to come back.
