He kept on staring. Now I was wishing I could stop the time. Freeze him and me together. "Sherlock." I finally said, spelling his name as if it were the first time I heard it. He nodded, then stood up. "You lost some ounces, John. Clear sign you haven't been eating. Your shaky hand is back again, ugh. You didn't do that much in the last… three months, did you? You miss being on the field. Clean shoes, you haven't left your house too much. Your phone, there on the table shows even more signs of a drinking habit. You've started drinking. Why? Because people with a lower Q.I. than mine usually say they drown their pain in the alcohol. Useless. Alcohol makes you feel worse. Hangovers. My bedside was always messed up. Of course you've been sleeping in my bed but not regularly. Means you've gotten drunk so much you couldn't remember where you lived but not on regular basis. You didn't come back here, of course. Your stuff is still all around the place. If you had moved out, you had took your belongings with you. Plus, my belongings are not even here. Lestrade had sent them back here but you didn't live here so they must be at your new place. You've got dark circles. Why haven't you been sleeping? Nightmares? Can't be something else but nightmares. You've dropped going to the therapist. Bad decision. She could had helped. You used to work, but then you took some days off. No. Better. Your boss gave you some days off. You wouldn't leave work if it kept your mind away from the fall. But your boss, clearly a woman because she has feelings, gave you some days of sick leave. You haven't been dating someone, or you'd take care of your personal hygiene. You smell like a wet dog and you grew a monster on your upper lip. Cut it off." He then caught his breath and sat back again, assuming his usual 'thinker pose'. I widened my eyes, looking at every single movement he made as he spoke. Once he was done, I smiled a little. I had missed everything of Sherlock. But what I was missing the most, were his deduction skills. "That was amazing. As usual, I'll admit. But I have a question." He nodded in approval "How the bloody hell did you survive? I saw you falling, Sherlock." I stood up. "I saw your landing on the sidewalk." I said, pointing outside the window, indicating the sidewalk. "I've felt your un-existent pulse." I was now indicating him with my left index. "I was at your burial!" I spelled each word slowly. "I've cried at your gravestone!" I sat down again. Head in my hands. "Have you let it all out, John?" I nodded, not lifting my head up. "What's your theory?" I lifted my head, looking up at him "My theory, Sherlock?" I frowned "My bloody theory is that I thought you were dead and now you are alive." He took his shoes off, laying down on his back. "Death." He shook his head. "You're so afraid by Death you can't even accept someone manages to win over it. Anyways. There's a box under your bed. That's for you. I know today is your... birthday!" he smiled. I smiled back. After all, I thought I was going to forgive him for not giving me any news of him until that day. My birthday. I actually had forgot it was my birthday. I was so overwhelmed by sadness I had forgot. I walked up to my bedroom and tasted the box under the bed before taking it out. "What is it?" , I thought. I opened it and with a smile I discovered it was a new laptop. I wanted to buy one myself but I never told him. How the bloody hell did he know? I smiled. "Thanks, Sherlock. I want.." he interrupted me. "I know. You wanted to buy one yourself. You know me, John. You shouldn't be that surprised. Like it? I'm not really a good intender of those… things. I've just asked for the best laptop. They gave me this." "It's.. it's perfect! Really, thank you!" He stood up and walked towards me. "Alright. Let's get rid of the sweetness and get back to action. Want to?" I nodded, placing the laptop on the table "Oh God yes." He found his coat and his shoes. "Let's go. It's all about us against the others, Watson." I chuckled. He suddenly looked up at me as he was sitting, wearing his shoes. "You know, John. We didn't see each other in a while… I thought you were taller." I rolled my eyes giggling and we went out the building. Mrs. Hudson was still all shocked. Froze on the couch. We both shrugged and called a taxi. "So, what's the case about?" I asked. He looked at me "I haven't the faintest. Haven't been reading the papers lately. It bores me." I nodded, opening the cab door "Great.. I guess?" he got in after me and strapped himself in. "New Scotland Yard, please", he said. "We're going to meet Lestrade?" He nodded, taking his gloves off. "It's been a long time we didn't meet. We've to catch up. And… I have to tell him how wrong he was." "In what regard, sorry?". He smiled. His cheekbones became a little red. "By thinking I was enjoying a ride in the Afterlife." We stopped at our destination and we both got off, making our ways upstairs.