Sherlock:

It was too dark without the street lamps illuminating the way to the pub. Sherlock Holmes had made sure of that. He was tempted to just shoot them, but nevertheless, the circuits were easily rewired. He'd been planning this for days now.

Hair dyed, new clothes, except for his trusty scarf, Sherlock was actually stalking someone. Not just anyone though, no, this was John Watson.

John:
John was just set free from a hard working day in the clinic. He sighed as he reached his regular pub. It had become his regular ever since Sherlock's death. Every night the doctor would make his way here and drink, in honour of his old friend's memory. Today was the anniversary of Sherlock's death, so not even the fact of hard work would keep him from this drink.

John sighed making his way into the dimly lit pub. It was not full of people, but just enough to make the place feel occupied. John smiled, he preferred it when not many people were around, it's what Sherlock would have liked. John sat on his regular bar stole and ordered his regular beer, before sighing and taking out a photo of Sherlock.
"Hope you are not too bored where you are now"

Sherlock:
Following John in, Sherlock heard John mumbling away to his photo - a photo of Sherlock, in fact. It made Sherlock smile. He knew that John hadn't forgotten, but it was nice to be reminded so. There was an empty seat a couple of stools down from John, and the lighting was very little, a great opportunity that Sherlock took.

John:

John got his beers in, six to be exact. He paid the bar man giving him a friendly smile and a nod. It had been long since he was in the paper, many people had even forgotten about Sherlock. Some people started to think it never really happened. John sighed raising his first pint to the sky.
"I m still waiting for that miracle Sherlock"

Sherlock:
Six, six beers? He really was cut up about this. Sherlock wanted to stop John, to help him, but maybe with a drunk John, his mind could be easily be manipulated, maybe even erased if something unexpected and bad happened.

John:
John swigged them down quickly. Deep down it was showing how hurt he was about the whole situation. John wanted this all to be a dream, every day in that year tracking from Sherlock's death he wanted to wake up and Sherlock to be there. Drink had pulled him out of that hole and put him in a totally new one. John would drink till he forgot his name and it would help with the pain. Mycroft had spoke to him about getting help but John turned it down. He was a strong doctor, he can move on...just not now. John swigged down his fourth beer.

Sherlock:
Alright, Sherlock didn't think that John would throw them back like that. He was a machine. A beast. Surely to pass out. Sherlock needed a distraction, to stop John without making his own presence known. He stood up, spotting two laughing men near John, slightly drunk, one rather butch and the other obviously gay - even if he didn't know it.

Without thinking, Sherlock reached over to the butch one, pinching his arse as he walked by. Humans are so /stupid/, he thought, trying hard not to laugh as the two argued. There was barely any time to leave as a small brawl broke out. Maybe that would coax John out of the pub - he was never the one to stay around the trouble; he only went looking for it after it had happened.

John:
John was holding his last and final drink as the fight broke out. He jumped as their voices become high rate. This cause the man to drop his last pint as he cursed at his hands. John sighed at the sight of the fight. All this was way too much for one doctor, he did not want to be the first doctor here. If the clinic knew how much he was drinking, they would surely have his head on a plate.

John got off the stool, as he steadied his self. The doctor started to stagger his way out of the pub, passing the fight. He growled at the men as he went past. 'Idiots' John thought as he finally made his way into the street. He hissed at the cold before going to the long dark alleyway.

Sherlock:
Excellent, Sherlock grinned, it worked. Seeing John like this really was a pity - such a waste. That could be changed. He closely followed behind John. If he was correct, this particular alleyway split off. Sherlock could easily lead John down the dead end alleyway. He began running, making sure his footsteps were heard.

John:
John turned around, being drunk did not help. He looked over at Sherlock with an odd look. He swore he had seen the man somewhere, John thought for a bit and then it clicked. He had seen the man in the pub, that must be it. But the burning question was, why was he following him. John stopped to see what he would do next.

Sherlock:
He stopped too, waiting, just waiting. John had a look that said 'I'm drunk and I'm frightened.' and that he recognised Sherlock from somewhere. Now was the time. "Doctor John Watson."

John:
John jumped before he pointed to his self. He looked around before looking back at the man. John licked his dry lips before answering.
"Err yes that is me...what would...yoo like?"
The words slurred out of the doctors mouth. 'Maybe I did have three too many' he thought to his self before licking his lips again

Sherlock:
Sherlock walked closer to John as far as he dared. "Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective." He mumbled, hoping that John was too beyond the point of his words making any sense.

John:
To John it sounded like a blur of nothing, all muffled by the power of drink. John started to get scared as he slightly backed away a little. He looked over the man before starting to talk again.
"...why you following me?"
John whimpered out, clearly not being able to understand anything anyway.

Sherlock:
He took another step closer, close enough to feel John's breath mix with Sherlock's. "John, you're very drunk right now, but you know who I am. Think."

John:
John squinted looking at the figure, he swayed from the alcohol in his blood. It took him awhile but then something clicked in his brain. John gasped taking a few small steps back.
"NO, You are dead! I must be hallucinating again! I MUST! "
John screamed as he tried to keep his footing. The drunk doctor's throat was dry, as if he was flooded with emotion.

Sherlock:
Hallucination. This made Sherlock wonder, but he ignored it. "I'm alive, very much so." He pulled John forwards by grabbing his wrist, shoving them both under a street lamp. "Look at me. Tell me I'm dead."

John:
John felt like time had stopped. He had waited so long for a moment like this. He had sat by the door for months just waiting for them exact words. 'I'm alive' it's all John wanted to hear since day one, and now they were said, John was overcome with emotions. He dropped to the floor crying.
"y-you fucking...know it all bar..bastard...you...you...how could you..."

Sherlock:

Sherlock crouched down to meet John's face again. "Let it all out, John. In fact, feel free to punch me." Muttering these just added to making Sherlock feel guilty. But no, what he did had to be done. If he had returned any sooner...

John:
John sniffed trying to stop crying. He rubbed his eyes before looking at the floor. He sniffed again trying to stop any more tears from falling.
"This better not be...another dream..."
John muttered before lightly grabbing onto Sherlock.

Sherlock:
He looked more than sad. John looked devastated. "Tell me how I can show you that I'm here." Sherlock pulled John into an awkward but tight hug, with his arms enfolding John.

John:
John must have spelt god awful, he had been in a clinic then to a pub. His busy day meant he had no time to change either. John gulped as he thought as much as he could.
"Kiss me..." John blurted out before he could think.
Him and Sherlock had been close and maybe lovers in the minds of others. But John had yet to confess to Sherlock.

Sherlock:
Slowly, Sherlock took John's face in his hands, gulping slightly. "I must confess, I've never kissed anybody before - I might be a bit rusty." Then very slowly, he moved his face to John, pressing their lips gently together. John's breath reeked of beer, but Sherlock ignored it. If this was what it took to get John to listen, he'd do it.

John:
John closed his eyes as soon as they touched. He was taken away from the emotions he once felt, it was replaced by an odd feeling. John blushed a tomato shade of red before moving slightly. He moved so he could deepen the kiss, which he did. John allowed his self to purr against Sherlock as the kiss went on.

Sherlock:
He was a good kisser, John, especially compared to Sherlock. Having no experience put him at a downfall, but Sherlock moved closer, propping John up by the lamp post. Kissing him deeper just made Sherlock want more of John.

John:
John purred again and again. Oh he had wanted this since day one, but he had been unable to admit it. But John also wanted to be sober, he pushed Sherlock a little apart.
"Sherlock...I m drunk..."

Sherlock:
Sherlock sighed. He sat back though, doing as he was told. "I know John, I did see you chuck those beers down your throat."

John:
"I want...I want to do this when I m sober..."
John huffed out leaning on Sherlock. For a doctor that used to be in the army, John looked weak now. It was the weakest he had ever been, if Sherlock wanted he could have done anything.

Sherlock:
"Of course, I can wait. Come on..." Sherlock gently picked John up, carrying him in his arms. For once, John looked safe, and fit comfortably into the space provided by Sherlock's open arms.

John:
"Sherlock...don't let me wake up...to no you..." John let out as he snuggled into Sherlock's hold. He wanted this moment to never end, but some part of him still thought it was the drink playing him. But right now John did not care, he took in the moment as he started to drift to sleep in Sherlock's arms

Sherlock:
Sherlock kissed John's forehead, and muttered "I won't leave you. Ever again." Softly he cradled John, making his way to back to 221B Baker Street. It wasn't far, so there wasn't much point of calling a cab.

John:
John slept the whole way back, he did not wake up for anything. He had not slept in ages and the comfort of Sherlock made his catch up. John still had to explain to Sherlock about the kiss and Mycroft. It sure was a bumpy road ahead.

Sherlock:
Once in the flat, Sherlock with John collapsed onto Sherlock's old bed. It was the bigger, a double, enough room for them both. Snuggling up to John, he watched him sleep.