It's quite a short chapter so I'm going to post two. :) It's like Christmas when it comes to very lazy writers. (I'm the lazy writer.. not you. Just to be clear ;) ) And thanks to my fantastic followers on this story.
John went to visit Sherlock often. How could he keep away? He always made sure that Sherlock was asleep, he couldn't face him. Not yet. This was easier than it would have been as Sherlock seemed to be sleeping a lot. John guessed his body needed the extra rest to heal. John wasn't sure why he was so scared: he had wanted this didn't he. He longed for Sherlock to not be dead. Truth be told, he probably knew why he was so scared. In believing that Sherlock was dead, John was scared that he had glorified the other man. John didn't want to find out that Sherlock wasn't as good as he thought.
Mycroft said that John had been to visit Sherlock and Sherlock didn't even need Mycroft to tell him that. He could tell by the way there was sometimes a slight track into the room with a small circular one which was always scuffed by the movement of the cane. He could tell by the way there was always a print in the chair next to Sherlock's head. He could tell from that one time when he had heard voices in the corridor checking he was asleep, so sometimes Sherlock pretended to be asleep so that he could be closer to John.
Mycroft sighed at John's all too persistent habit so he did the natural thing. He lied and he manipulated. He told John that Sherlock was asleep and in all fairness, Sherlock was when he told him that. He just didn't tell Sherlock John was coming and he didn't tell John that Sherlock would probably wake up.
"Hello John," Sherlock said quietly, not being able to meet his friend's eyes either.
John jumped. "H- hello Sherlock," he said, telling himself that he wasn't so glad to see Sherlock's eyes again and to hear his voice, to have him look at him again, despite the way these things automatically pulled his lips into a smile. "It's good to see you again," he added after a moment, not meeting his eyes. He couldn't deal with that yet.
"And you," Sherlock said warily, not sure how he stood with the other man.
"When are you coming home?" John said, surprised at how easily it came from his lips. He hadn't expected it to but it did. He had come to accept that Sherlock had lied to him... for three years.
"As soon as they discharge me: So, tomorrow. John... It is okay if I come back to Baker Street?" he asked, a little unsure.
John just nodded, barely trusting himself to speak. "Of course it is," he said after a while. Sherlock gave John a hesitant smile that John couldn't quite return at the moment.