Get excited.
The Homecoming
John stepped into 221B, calling as he went upstairs, "Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade didn't believe me!" He didn't even know if Mrs. Hudson was home or not, but he needed to complain. He shook his jacket off his arms as he opened the door to his flat. "He didn't believe me when I said the text was from—"
He stopped.
Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room, sunlight illuminating his curls from behind, his clothes a little messy and a bit muddy but otherwise the same as they always were—neat, fitted.
It was not a fleeting phantom, John realized. "…Sherlock," he whispered.
Prompt was from Javien Deluke, and it was: fleeting phantom