Next chapter will be up soon! In the mean time...I hope you guys like this chapter. Let me know what you think, every review absolutely makes my day and I really enjoy hearing about bits you like and even the bits you don't! Thanks!

Note: I've really tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible and Sherlock will reveal himself soon!

John spins around in his office chair balancing a pencil between his scrunched up nose and upper lip. He doesn't have any more patients this afternoon and although he has some paper work left over he is seriously debating leaving early. He has been working here for more than half a year now. It is a small clinic with grey walls, tired staff and obscure art hanging randomly about the building. He had been quite fortunate to get a job here; not that he had to worry about rent. Mrs Hudson had been overly kind to him and charged him a ridiculously low amount. She had told him that having him come home was more than enough payment for her. She had also naturally refused him when he had offered her more. Putting his feet on the desk he watches the sky dimming as the sun begins to slowly set; dappling the clouds in vibrant ambers and reds. John is restless. He looks down at his hands which are trembling slightly; clenching them into fists and stretching them back out again.

A loud rap on his door startles him, he takes his feet off the desk and sits up properly flinging the pencil on the desk.

"Come in" he says straightening his coat in an attempt to appear more professional. Beverly, one of the older nurses, pokes her head through the door. Her watery blue eyes and furrowed silver eyebrows are looking at him at in scrutiny. John feels himself squirm slightly under her surprisingly powerful gaze trying to appear as normal as possible and not like he had been lounging around with his feet on the desk.

"Doctor Watson" she says her voice is clipped and has a slight Scottish lilt to it. "If you aren't too busy. Dr Marshall was wondering if you would see to his last patient? He's been called away, family emergency".

John decides to pointedly ignore the way she had said 'busy' hoping that whatever emergency Dr Marshall had been called away for wasn't too serious. He nods. "Of course. Send them in".

She holds the door open and lets the patient in. John rearranges his desk and looks up to see a beautiful woman with pale green eyes and long blonde hair enter the room. He feels a smile spread across his face as he greets her and feels an excited tingle up his spine when she returns his with a dazzling one of her own.

"Please sit down Mrs…?" he gestures to the chair.

"Miss…Morstan, but please call me Mary." she replies while he tries not to appear too happy when he discovers she isn't married.

"It's nice to meet you, Mary. So, what can I do for you today?" he asks feeling a slight bubble of pride from the way she blushes slightly when he uses her first name.

"Well I…" she begins but is stopped by a long stream of coughing and hacking that looks very painful. Chest infection John thinks; his mind focusing on the task at hand.

"I think that answers my question… " he says placing the cool end of the stereoscope against her chest. "Take a deep breath in…and now out. In… and out for me again". He listens carefully before he nods and meets her eyes for a moment.

"Well Mary. It seems that you've got a rather nasty chest infection." He says writing out a prescription and handing it to her. "Take this to reception and they'll give you some antibiotics that should hopefully clear that up."

More coughing. "Thank you Dr. Watson" she says her voice a little hoarse and a grateful look on her face.

"John, please" he answers smiling. Even ill she still manages to look amazing, he thinks. She's petite, has a kind face and a nice smile to boot; just his type.

"Thank you… John. " she replies, they both sit there looking at each other and smiling, until she starts to get up.

"Erm… Mary I know this might be a bit sudden but would you like to, maybe, get coffee sometime?"

She grins at him and her voice is almost teasing "I thought that doctors weren't allowed to date their patients?"

"Well, lucky for me, that technically you are Doctor Marshall's patient then." he answers cheekily.

She ducks her head down; trying to hide the pink tinge to her cheeks and smiles. She takes a card from her bag and hands it to him. Then with one last smile she leaves, with him grinning stupidly at the card in his hand feeling pretty pleased that he hadn't left early after all. Perhaps things are finally looking up after all…he thinks. He hadn't thought about Sherlock once. Although it was hardly surprising; there couldn't be two people more different. She was petite and slender. While Sherlock had been tall and broad. Bright blue eyes for pale green and jet black curls for straight blonde hair. Although why he was comparing them in the first place he hadn't a clue. He frowns slightly for an entire…he checks his wrist watch…20 minutes. For a whole 20 minutes he had forgotten Sherlock. For some reason that unsettles something in him and makes his stomach tighten unpleasantly. He collects his things and leaves work, making his way to the cemetery, as if looking at Sherlock's grave will somehow appease his uneasy feelings.

Standing there in the cold looking at Sherlock's grave he realises that he feels guilty. He never wants to forget Sherlock; he was his best friend. He doesn't think he will ever share a friendship with anyone else like the one he had shared with Sherlock. And to have forgotten him even for such a brief time meant he was moving on and that honestly scared him. Moving on meant leaving Sherlock Holmes behind and he wasn't so sure he could do that. He left feeling even more unsettled and Mary's card feeling heavy in his pocket.

Soon a couple of months had passed and John and Mary had been on quite a few dates since then. He found out that she is a teacher, no family in England and that she had been engaged once before but her fiancée had died. Over these past few months he had come to greatly enjoy her company. Not just because she was a wonderful person but because she understood what it was like to lose someone close to you. When John had told her she had simply listened and comforted him. John had begun to think that his relationship Mary could turn serious very soon. But as always life seemed determined to ruin everything.

He lies in bed panting, red rimmed eyes and Sherlock's name on his lips. It had been a particularly horrible nightmare. It had been him who had pushed Sherlock from the roof and stood over his bloody corpse watching Sherlock's lips bubbling with blood and tears fall from dead glassy eyes. He runs a hand through his damp hair, ever since he had started seeing Mary his nightmares had been getting worse. His therapist had said that he was experiencing guilt over being happy and moving on…something about survivors' guilt. She had told him to try and confront his emotions and talk about them with Mary. But it wasn't something he was willing to do. He had never been very good at trusting people although with Sherlock it had been something that had happened almost instantly. He and Mary had been growing closer, he felt happy and comfortable around her but he wasn't sure he could tell her everything that had happened. Part of him still clung onto the hope that maybe Sherlock would come bounding in stating that it was all just an experiment or just an extremely long nap. And that part, no matter how small he argued it to be, seemed reluctant to let John be happy with what he had; always longing for a life of danger and excitement. A life where Sherlock and he would solve crimes, he would blog about it and Sherlock would forget his pants.

Mary had offered to come with the cemetery with him tomorrow or glancing at his clock...today. She had told him it had been a while since she had visited her fiancee, Daniel, and thought that it would be good to go together. He had looked at the hopeful look on her face and found he could do nothing but agree. He had smiled at her and said that was a lovely idea but somewhere deep inside him had wanted to tell her no. For a year he had visited Sherlock's grave alone sharing quiet conversations and silent tears. For a year he had never gone with anyone else and never broken his routine of visiting. He knew Mary meant well but part of him had still felt something distinctly wrong about it. But maybe it would be good for him to go with her, maybe it would finally help him open up about Sherlock and help his nightmares.

Sherlock glares murderously over at his grave where now two people stood. One familiar and wanted; the other most definitely not. He had watched John enter the cemetery at his usual time and stand over his grave; a scene that in some bizarre way often soothed him. A reminder of everything he strived to protect. But today John stands there with his arm around some woman, her arm rubbing soothing circles against his lower back as he mutters quietly to her. No doubt regaling her with a tale from their numerous adventures. Sherlock begins to relentlessly scour every inch of her for information like a starving man searching for scraps. Ink on her sleeve, a textbook poking out of her bag and her general appearance suggested that she most likely was a teacher. She was small, around 5'3 and was what social convention would call "pretty". Doubtless she had attracted John with little trouble at all considering his previous girlfriends; she was what other people would call "his type". Sherlock observes a little longer. There is nothing else worth noting. She is unremarkable. Nothing mysterious or suspicious to her; she is predictably dull. However Sherlock finds that he is still… disturbed...by her presence.

Of course he expected John to dating someone. John had proven to be surprisingly popular man. But the world of dating was irrelevant data. Whatever reason women found John appealing; he had deleted it. However the fact that they are here together indicates the level of their relationship greatly surpasses all of John's previous relationships. He leans forward, fingers pressed together and eyes surveying carefully. The close manner in which they held each other indicated that they were most likely physically as well as emotionally intimate. Sherlock, in any other situation, would have been bemused that John was seriously considering her as a long term partner. But that he was meant so many more things than just the obvious. It meant that eventually John would move out of 221B. Eventually he would stop visiting his grave; maybe coming once every so often. Eventually Sherlock would become nothing more but a memory in John's mind. He scoffs at the idea that John would willingly forget Sherlock, it's unthinkable and preposterous. He looks up to see John smiling fondly at the woman and they walk off together hand in hand. Sherlock's stomach drops slightly at John's smile and his mouth feels oddly dry; perhaps he was slightly dehydrated. After a few moments of careful deliberation he decides the bizarre feeling in his stomach was due to boredom. He pulls out his mobile and sends a text.

SH: I need this wrapping up soon. I'm getting BORED.

MH: BORED. Of course… And this would have nothing to do with the appearance of the very lovely Mary Morstan?

Mycroft had been diligently helping Sherlock whenever he could. Sherlock suspects it was his way of trying to repair the part he ultimately played in causing his downfall. In addition to the informants Sherlock had keeping a watch on John and everyone else. Mycroft had kept his people protecting everyone he had left behind in case any of Moriarty's associates felt like taking revenge. He had also been very generously been providing the holes in which Sherlock had been throwing Moriarty's connections. Although Sherlock suspects that his older brother took excessive pleasure in tearing down the last of Moriarty's web. In that at least they were similar.

Sherlock resists the urge to sigh and roll his eyes at the text and whatever game his brother was playing.

SH: I couldn't care less what her name is. It's the waiting around all day for your minions to actually complete the jobs they have been given… it's BORING!

MH: Ahhh. How silly of me. I had thought you had texted me because you had seen John with Mary at your grave…from where you're sitting...

SH: Mycroft, if you have a point please do get to it quickly.

MH: Manners? Sherlock, you must be bored. Fine. You're jealous. John is moving on and this disturbs you.

The muscle in his jaw began to twitch.

SH: Fascinating hypothesis Mycroft. I am curious as to what evidence you draw this conclusion from? I was never jealous of his previous girlfriends, why should this Maddie be any different?

MH: Mary is different. You know it, Sherlock. During all of John's other rather short-lived relationships. You always came first. It is different because you are not here and Mary has, in essence, begun to take your place. And. You. Don't. Like. It.

Sherlock glares at his phone, he can practically hear the smugness radiating from Mycroft's voice. Mycroft is naturally completely incorrect in his assumption. Sherlock is not jealous. It is not something that he has ever felt and certainly was not experiencing now.

SH: Please do not make idiotic assumptions. It doesn't suit you. Now do you anything of importance to tell me?

MH: Very well. I have good news for you then. We have caught the last one. We've gathered enough evidence to clear you. You can come home, baby brother. We're all waiting.

I know! I know! They still haven't been reunited yet! *flings self behind barricade*

But in case it wasn't clear they will be in the next chapter! Please let me know what you think! Muses food are reviews! Thank you! :)