It had been roughly two weeks, and John was positive that he was slowly losing his mind. It wasn't from living with Sherlock once more. He'd fallen back into sort of the same routine as before he'd left. He'd find limbs in places where they shouldn't be or put out the occasional fire, he'd practically force Sherlock to eat or sleep. That wasn't the issue. He was losing his mind because he missed his fiance and children. Since the whole things started, Lestrade visited maybe twice under the guise of needing help with a case or helping to clear Sherlock's name. Every time he left, John wished he could go with him, back to his home. 221B just wasn't home anymore, and it hadn't been in a long time.
Sherlock enjoyed having John back around. He tried to go on as normal, refusing to eat or sleep, claiming it to be unnecessary. However, he wasn't as rude or as crass as he once was. He didn't insult John's intelligence anymore and even managed to behave himself whenever Greg came over to visit. He wanted to show John that he was willing to make some changes in order to keep him him his life, in any capacity.
Two days later, the duo walked into the New Scotland Yard to speak with Lestrade. As they walked through, you could see heads turn, hear gasps, and even see a couple people faint at the sight of Sherlock. He just breezed through undeterred, until he was approached by a familiar weasel-faced forensic investigator and curly haired Sargeant.
"What in hell is the meaning of this?" Anderson shouted. "You're meant to be dead."
"Yes, so sorry to disappoint, Anderson. A pleasure as always." he briskly replied and tried to continue to his destination.
"This doesn't make any sense," Donovan whined. "John, what is going on here?"
John just shrugged. He really didn't know what he was meant to say. He hadn't jumped off a bloody building, what does he have to answer for?
"So what this was all some sick practical joke? You two disgust me! I expect this from you, Freak, but I'd thought you had a bit more decency than that, Dr. Watson."
Sherlock whirled around and watched for John's imminent explosion, and was shocked when it didn't come. John just cocked his head to the side.
"Decency? Hilarious. I'm being lectured on decency by the two of you. Never mind that I wasn't in on his little stunt, or that what you think of me means absolutely nothing to me. But the fact that someone who has been cheating on his wife for years with an officer who goes down faster than an elevator with severed wires has the absolute gall to lecture me on what it means to be a decent human being is nothing short of hilarious."
"Now wait just a minute!" Donovan shrieked. "What about you? Did you get tired of sleeping with our dear Chief Inspector the second Mr. Holmes 'rose from the grave'?"
"Quite the contrary, actually. But, I understand you not understanding what actual love looks like, given that you seem to fall madly in love with anyone who makes eye contact with you for three seconds. Now if you're quite done being your usual selves, we actually have business to attend to. Perhaps you could at least pretend like you have jobs to do." With that, John put his hands in his pockets and strolled off, leaving three very stunned people in his wake. Sherlock regained his sense and quickly followed.
"John...that was...I've never seen that side of you before."
John just smirked. "Well, everyone changes, it's not always for the better, it seems. I used to rant and scream, but that would be making a spectacle of myself for no real reason. Granted, what you just saw wasn't exactly mature, but I'm quite tired of letting comments like that slide until I explode in anger."
"Well, I thought you were magnificent. I always did underestimate you..." he wistfully said.
The two arrived at Greg's new and bigger office. The secretary showed them in and Greg greeted his fiance and his friend.
"Hullo boys, any leads?"
"We think Moran may be making his move sometime soon. Now that Sherlock and I are back in the public eye, he has more motivation to seek us out."
"Well, the sooner the better." Greg said.
"Be careful what you wish for, Lestrade." Sherlock chided. Of course, fate had a way of being a real pain in the nether regions. Not 3 minutes later, Donovan rushes in and starts yelling.
"We've got a kidnapping!"
"All right, put the usual guys on it," Greg said, almost waving her away.
"Sir, you don't understand...the kidnapped children...are yours."
The three men sprang into action and began to scour the city for any clues on Moran's whereabouts. The odd thing was...there was no trail. No witnesses, no fingerprints...nothing.
"I don't get it. I thought the point of all of this was to lure us out for a confrontation. Why would he try to make it difficult for us to find him," Sherlock pondered aloud.
"I just can't wait to get my hands on the bastard!" John growled. Sherlock had very rarely seen John like this. In fact, the first time was his "resurrection". He was grateful to not be the cause or the recipient of that rage at the moment, only guessing at the depths it reached.
"Don't worry, John. He will be found. He's nowhere near Moriarity's level. He's bound to have slipped up somewhere."
"Am I now?" a deep, menacing voice called from behind them. A man began to casually stride towards them, he was holding what looked to be a large sac in his arms. "Hello boys. Miss me?"