“Hello, John.”
“Holy Christ—”
“Well, not quite. But I have risen from the dead, as you can see.”
John’s knees began give way beneath him. He reached out to support himself against the cold, solid brick wall. He had to force his eyes to focus on the man smiling down at him.
He had to force himself to breathe.
“H-how…” he managed to gasp out.
Sherlock’s grin broadened, and his head tilted a bit more to the side. “Would it matter if I couldn’t explain? Or if I refused? I wonder, John. You’ve been so loyal all this time. I’ve seen the posters, the “Believe in Sherlock” graffiti; I’ve heard how little you’ve focused on anything else….”
Blood began to pound even harder in John’s ears.
It began to throb in his neck, and his chest, and then lower…
“What the hell is going on, Sher-” John choked back the name. He hadn’t said it for over a year, now, he guessed. “What is this? How can you be here? What are you doing?”
“Think of it as an experiment, John,” Long, elegant fingers reached out and brushed against John’s stubbled jawline. “Think of it as a study in devotion. You recall the story of Job in the Bible? Satan wagered that God’s servant would not remain loyal after enduring the worst form of torment. Well, I have made such a wager over you. And in this case, Mycroft takes the role of Satan. Not much of a stretch for him, really.”
Shivering, John took a step back. “No. No, this isn’t you.”
“I can assure you that it is, John. And now begins your test in earnest. Will come back to Baker Street with me, no questions answered, no explanations given? Will you take me back into your life, knowing how much I’ve hurt you, intentionally hurt you, and knowing that I might hurt you again in the future?”
Hot tears stung in John’s eyes. He balled up his fists, ready to strike out at the arrogant, cruel bastard. Ready to lash out, retaliate after being used like this.
“Have I won, John?” Sherlock purred.
John couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
And then he heard his own voice answer softly, “Yes. Yes, Sherlock. You win.”
******
John awoke with a start, panting and sweating.
Tears were streaming down his face.
“God,…” he sobbed.
