"Is that all?" John called over his shoulder to Sherlock, who was coming up behind him on the stairs with an armful of boxes. John put down the box he'd been carrying and turned to see Sherlock struggling to get in through the door.

"It better be," he mumbled, finally fighting his way in. He planted the boxes on the ground beside his feet and smiled at John. John felt his heart leap in his chest and he smiled back before crossing the room to Sherlock.

It had been four days since Sherlock woke up in that hospital, and three since he'd been released. John and Sherlock had spent those three days packing up John's stuff and moving it back into Baker Street. As much as John hated moving, he was more than glad to go through this process again when it meant he was moving back home.

He was busy unpacking some of his books when he heard a familiar tread coming up the stairs. He looked over his shoulder at Sherlock, who was busy doing nothing on the couch, then stood from where he was crouched and went to meet Mycroft at the door.

"Good afternoon, John." John simply nodded in response, then turned back towards Sherlock, who was watching them with curious eyes.

"If you'll give us a moment," John said, offering Sherlock a bright smile before turning to follow Mycroft down the stairs. Outside there was a car waiting for them and John allowed Mycroft to climb inside before following. John turned and looked out the window. As expected Sherlock was standing at the second story window staring down. John smiled though he knew Sherlock couldn't see, then gestured to the driver that he could pull away from the curb.

"I assume you don't need me to tell you why I asked to talk to you," John said, turning to face Mycroft. "I'm sure Sherlock will have worked it out by the time I return."

"Hmm, yes. I remember several times at the hospital you said you wanted answers. You never got any, and are apparently too afraid to ask Sherlock because you don't want to do anything to ruin this reconciliation."

"So, let's get this over with then," John said. "I'd like to return to my husband as soon as possible and, you know, finish reconciling." Mycroft pulled a face and John immediately began backtracking. "No, no, not like that. Just. Well, anyway. Yes, I want answers." Mycroft waved a dismissive hand in the air.

"Ask away then."

"I've already figured out why he did it." John sighed and shook his head. He had been so blinded earlier to not understand. Of course, now John knew Sherlock never wanted the divorce, and that their separation had taken its toll on Sherlock. That day he'd wandered over to Baker Street and seen Sherlock looking so poorly... He had seen but not observed. Looking back now he could see how obvious it was that Sherlock had already given up. Given up on cases, given up on life. The thought of Sherlock being in such a state was too much, and John refused to let himself think on it too long. Instead he turned to Mycroft.

"I want to know what ... happened. How did you find him in time?"

"You know of the cameras-"

"Yes I am very familiar with your surveillance systems..." Mycroft gave him a sly smile that John ignored. "Sherlock..." John stopped himself from revealing Sherlock's ways of dealing with the cameras: tampering with the video feed to produce fake videos that they recorded sometimes in their free time. Other times they used old footage that had ready been recorded on the cameras, though most of the time Sherlock simply turned them off. John was surprised Mycroft hadn't caught on yet. Or perhaps he wasn't the one monitoring the videos and it was his government minions that Sherlock had managed to outsmart.

"Yes, well ever since ... Well I suppose I should start by letting you know you probably don't have to worry about Victor ever again."

"And why is that?" John asked, hope swelling in his chest. He still felt the sting he'd felt when he'd seen that picture of Sherlock and Victor together.

"He and my brother had a bit of an... altercation a while back and Sherlock has refused to even talk about him since then."

"And how far back was this altercation?"

"I'm sure you've seen that magazine cover."

"Yes."

"It was that same day." John's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he stared at Mycroft. "I noticed that my brother was doing less than favourable in handling the separation, and I asked Victor if he would check up on Sherlock. I knew he wouldn't tell me anything but I figured ... Victor claimed to be his friend so I figured it was the best I could do to get information. I had him wear a hidden mic and though I didn't re-install cameras in the flat I made sure to have several pointed at the building. Sherlock didn't talk much during the outing, nor when they retired to Baker Street, but it was then that things got ... interesting, I suppose."

"What happened?"

"Victor refused to say, but it as obviousl anyway. On the recording Victor can be heard saying something quite uncomplimentary about you. Then there is a lot of ruckus, followed by Sherlock shouting something that sounds a lot like 'Get out'." Mycroft gave a light sigh that turned into something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. "There is CCTV footage of Victor stumbling out of Baker Street with a cut on his jaw. I assume even you can understand what happened there."

"He punched him."

"Very good, John." John narrowed his eyes at the condescending tone, but remained quiet.

"My brother has a very violent temper, but he rarely acts out physically. The fact that he did so because of whatever it was he felt for you was cause for concern. So, I had cameras reinstalled in the flat. Sherlock somehow failed to notice, or perhaps just didn't care, because they remained untampered with. Until one day. I noticed that there was a fake video feed showing on one of the monitors I had in my office. I sent someone to the flat immediately and they found him on the living room floor with the needle still in his arm. I assume you can figure out what happened next."

John let out a low breath and sat back. He felt the car come to a stop and when he looked out the window he was surprised to see that they were back in front of Baker Street. He turned to Mycroft with his eyebrows raised, but the dignitary was resolutely staring out the opposite window. The conversation was finished.

"Ah, well, thanks," John said before opening the door. Mycroft made a dismissive humming sound and did nothig else in lieu of a reply. John stepped out of the car and made his way inside.

Sherlock was waiting for him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with an obviously forced smile on his face.

"Ah, welcome back John," he said, coming forward to wrap his arms around his husband. "What would you like for dinner?" he said a bit too cheerfully. John wriggled out of his grasp and placed his hands on Sherlock's shoulders.

"Why are you asking?"

"I was going to cook-"

"You? Cooking? No." John said, shaking his head. Sherlock frowned and started to step back, but John held him firmly in place. "No, that's not the man I married." In one swift move John pulled Sherlock forward enough to get his arms around his lean frame and buried his face into Sherlock's left shoulder. "I married a brilliantly unstable man who punches men named Victor for badmouthing men named John." His words were muffled by the fabric of Sherlock's shirt, but Sherlock obviously heard him. His body sagged against John's and sighed.

"Ah, so he told you then."

"Yes, he bloody told me," John said, trying to keep the laughter from his voice. Sherlock sighed again and started to pull away, looking into John's eyes with a frown on his face. When he saw the smile on John's lips his frown only deepened.

"You're ... you're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? Sherlock, you know there was a picture in the magazine of you two. I saw it. I thought ... I thought you'd moved on. That you were with him." John laughed and shook his head. "Do you know how bloody relieved I am?"

Sherlock stared at him for a moment more while John laughed, then a wide smile broke out on his face and he erupted into a fit of giggles as well. John reached up to cup his face and pulled him down for a kiss, but they couldn't get further than a peck because they were laughing too much.

"I can't imagine ... you'd think ... I would ever ... date him," Sherlock managed to say through his laughter. He pressed a kiss to the corner of John's mouth, then pulled away, his face gravely serious. "John, you are the only one for me. I can't live without you."

The smile was immediately wiped from John's face and he pressed a hand to the smooth skin of Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, then pressed their foreheads together.

"Yes, Sherlock. You can live without me. You've got to believe that." Sherlock's eyes snapped open and he opened his mouth, but John silenced him with a finger to his lips. "But I'm not asking you to. Sherlock, if I have it my way you'll never be able to get rid of me."

"I never want to," Sherlock said, before pressing his lips to John's. "Till death do us part."

"Not even then," John said, before sealing his lips over Sherlock's once more. "If I die first I'm coming back and haunting your arse."

"And I vow to do the same to you." John kissed Sherlock one final time, then stepped away.

"Alright, good. Now that that's settled, you can get started on dinner."

"But-"

"I'm kidding! Let's go get takeaway." Sherlock grinned at John, then left to retrieve his coat and scarf.

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Um, yeah hello. Sorry this took so long to post, and that it's so short and not of the best quality. It's just an epilogue though, not really a full chapter. I wanted to give you guys a more concrete happy ending. I hope no one hates me too much. I would like to thank everyone who has read, voted, or commented on this and ASiL. It might not seem like it at this point but know that I really do appreciate each and every one of you guys. Also, it is more than likely that I won't be revisiting this universe so, yeah, it's been fun guys. Thanks again. :)