He's saying something, but doesn't know if John hears it.  The punching and accompanying sounds are a bit loud.  He says it over and over, means it, even if it goes unheard.

Sherlock is a bit embarrassed.  (Odd, uncomfortable emotion.  Shouldn't bother. (Shame that emotions don't seem to be deletable.))  He couldn't stay away for a lifetime.  Not even to protect John.

He waited three months.

Only three months.  That failure deserves punches.  Down-on-the-ground punches, with John pinning him to the pavement.  (He notices that John is still careful of his nose and teeth.  Is actually punching his shoulders more often than his face, and with more vigor.  But is not avoiding his face entirely.)

The punches hurt less than then new, sterile, not-221B flat that John has been inhabiting, alone.  Or John's appearance: thin, wan, chronically underslept.  

Mycroft had reported as much.  Had told Sherlock that John was getting worse, had sent pictures (carefully, through the proper channels).  Sherlock calculated a 71% chance John would eventually recover (enough to remove fear of self-harm), someday move on (move in with someone new, start building a new life).  (Unacceptable degree of risk that he will not.)  He cannot stand any longer to observe John's decline from afar, or wait to find out what will become of him.

Cannot stand life alone, without John, anymore, either.  (When did John become an integral part of life?  Cannot remember a time after meeting when he was not.)

Sherlock is still murmuring into John's assault.  John is still not hearing.  But he's saying things as well, over and over, a litany mirroring that of his fists.  At first it's how could you.  Then I hate you, and other variants, including you bastard.  Then it's something else.

Sherlock has nearly forgotten that he is also speaking, until their words sync up. I love you. I love you. I love you.  (Revelation.  More than he had dared to hope.) I love you. (Probably not indicative of desire, not sexual, but that's not the most important, has never been the main point.  The most important bit is being together.  The how of being together is negotiable.) I love you.

John breaks the chant first, letting out a sob.  He starts to collapse, to fall against Sherlock's chest, but stiffens, holds himself back, hunches his shoulders.  Drips tears down on Sherlock's neck, collarbones.

I love you, John, he thinks. Forgive me. I'm sorry. He's so used to holding these sorts of thoughts in.  Instead, he says everything out loud.  "Please.  I tried to stay away.  They were going to kill you.  But I need you, John.  I can't—I thought I could.  I can't be without you.  I'm sorry."  He stares at John.  Still hurt, still angry.  "Please," he says again.  (Inadequate.)

John just looks at him for a long time.  Scrubs at his eyes with a bloody knuckle.  Looks unhappy.  Sherlock doesn't know how to fix it.  "Never leave me again."  He pauses.  Licks his lips.  "Never lie to me again."

"I love you," Sherlock repeats.  All the words he has right now.  He tries to explain with his intonation, with a touch to John's face.  Finds tears in his own eyes as he does.  (Must revise assessment that he does not cry.  Two data points now.)

John understands.  Doesn't pull back from his touch.  His voice is still firm, though.  "Not even to protect me, Sherlock.  Never.  Again."

Sherlock considers briefly, but he's already made his choice.  The risk of losing John is terrible.  But he is incapable (constitutionally, physically, metaphysically incapable) of staying away from John, even if it puts him at greater risk.  (Besides, John is far from helpless.)  (That may be an excuse, a rationalization for the fact that he is weak and cannot resist John.  (But also very true.))  He nods.  "I promise."

John swallows twice.  Leans in.  Kisses his lips.  

Sherlock is stunned for a moment.  Lies there, experiences it.  Finally remembers to respond, part his lips, kiss back.  His face is bruised, and the kiss hurts gloriously.

Eventually, they pull apart, breathless.  "You bastard," John groans.  But there's affection in his voice once more.  "My life's been a complete wreck, just hell, ever since," he swallows, "the fall.  There are better ways to figure out just how much you care about someone, you know."  Sherlock can generate several dozen better ways in the space of a breath.  Nods.

John exhales slowly.  Smiles, just a little.  "So what do we do now?"

"Finish tracking down the rest of Moriarty's gang.  Especially Moran, his right-hand man.  Very dangerous."

"Right.  Can I shoot him?"

Sherlock smiles.  "By all means.  There's no-one I'd trust more."

"Can I.  Um.  Do this again?"  John presses his lips back to Sherlock's, and this time Sherlock responds immediately, eagerly.  John rewards him with hungry moan-growl, muffled in sound (but not potency) by lips-tongue-teeth.  Sherlock can feel increasing evidence of desire, pressing into his thigh.

"I certainly hope so."  Sherlock manages, finally, voice slightly ragged.  "But perhaps we should relocate."

"Somewhere more comfortable than the pavement?"  John laughs.  Sherlock has missed that sound.  It's a bit rough and unpracticed.  (How long did John go without laughing, during these past months?)

"Well, more comfortable, and less likely to get us arrested, depending."

"Oh, depending."  John's breath catches, and he smiles a brilliant grin, and bites his lip just a little.

"Are you ready to go?"  Sherlock glances questioningly at John's not-221B flat.  

John doesn't even look. Not at the flat, not at his cane, forgotten on the ground.  He helps Sherlock up as he answers, keeps holding his hand after they're standing.  "Oh, God, yes."  

* * *

Author's note: Thanks to the creators of BBC Sherlock for most of the dialogue. :)

Thanks to Ariane DeVere for the excellent, thorough, and frequently amusing Sherlock transcripts (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/36505.html)

My Sherlock's voice was influenced in part by Ivy Blossom's The Progress of Sherlock Holmes (also available on Wattpad: http://www.wattpad.com/story/6162554-the-progress-of-sherlock-holmes). I've hopefully done something sufficiently different and interesting, but I am very grateful for her inspiring take on the character.

And thanks especially to my fabulous beta, Lisa E., who caught lots of things that didn't quite work the first time around, and who helped make John's voice far better. She also pointed out that maybe I shouldn't assume everyone has every moment of Sherlock perfectly etched into memory — don't they, though?

Thanks for reading (and for liking or leaving comments, if you're so inspired)! If you enjoyed this, you might also like my retelling of Sherlock series 3: Disregard the Danger (http://www.wattpad.com/story/28922575).