A Chance To Stay Alive - Johnlock

28) Welcome back Sherlock Holmes

"John have you got my microscope!?"
It was late June and the two boys were finally preparing for Sherlock's return to Baker Street. He had spent the last three months enduring harsh chemotherapy, but finally (to his delight)  he was being allowed back home by the doctors.
"Of course I have!" John exclaimed with a small laugh, stumbling into the room carrying a box of the curly-haired boy's science equipment.
Sherlock flashed a quick grin at him before slowly getting to his feet and gripping onto his new pair of crutches.
"Thank you," he replied with a gentle smile; watching as the blonde boy approached him, planting a small kiss on his forehead.
"No problem handsome," John hummed in a sing-song voice, holding the door open for Sherlock as they both hustled out of the room - hopefully for the last time.
The curly-haired boy scoffed at this before heading down the corridor, his mouth opening in surprise as he noticed the gaggle of nurses stood by the entrance doors.
"We'll miss you Sherlock! Stay safe!" The first cried, handing him over a large card and a small, tattered toy otter. Sherlock's eyes suddenly lit up in realisation as he took the animal, his cheeks burning a deep red.
"A certain someone told us that you might want it back after all these years."
He carefully took the gifts and mumbled an embarrassed 'thanks' before giving a wide smile. The nurses suddenly pulled the boy into the tight hug before waving their goodbyes as Sherlock and John both strode out into the car park, Sherlock clutching protectively over the toy otter which he had cared for all those many years ago.

"That otter was cute, a bit odd though I suppose," John commented with a warm smile, slipping his hand around Sherlock's waist as they made their way over to the taxi rank.
"Mm..I suppose you could say that," Sherlock murmured knowingly with a small trace of a grin across his pale face.
The blonde boy smoothly helped him into the nearest taxi as they set off down the road, leaving the hospital far out of sight.
"Glad to be going home?" John asked casually as Sherlock pressed his cheek against the cold, glass window, gazing out at the blur of buildings passing by.
"Very," the curly-haired boy replied thoughtfully, chewing on his bottom lip.
The taxi came to a gradual stop outside of 221b and both Sherlock and John clambered onto onto the pavement, John carrying Sherlock's suitcase for him. It was a second before Sherlock stopped abruptly outside of the door, a frown coming across his face.

"What's up?" The blonde boy asked curiously, walking up besides Sherlock and pulling out his keys.
"The knocker..." Sherlock hummed thoughtfully, gazing at it.
"It's been corrected again. It's an OCD habit of his."
John raised an eyebrow momentarily, a small grin appearing on his face as he pushed open the door.
"Who are we talking about here?" He asked casually, already knowing the answer.
However, the curly-haired boy ignored this, instead making his way into the house and up the staircase towards the living room - John following eagerly behind him.
"Congratulations Sherlock!"
Immediately taken aback, Sherlock entered to find Mycroft, Molly, Greg, and Mrs Hudson all stood together in the flat, surrounded by a collection of purple and yellow balloons. Behind them on the table sat a large sponge cake, on the top sat sat a marzipan bumble-bee. The curly-haired boy's mouth fell into an 'o' shape as he gazed around at the many people surrounding him.

"You all came for me?" He asked feverishly, feeling his cheeks burning bright red in embarrassment. Molly and mrs Hudson immediately gave an excited nod whilst Greg simply slouched back against the armchair with his arms crossed, giving a nod, a warm smile on his gruff face.
"Well I suppose you are my little brother after all," Mycroft explained with a small sniff, watching down upon the boy thoughtfully.
"And anyway Gregory said that there would be cake."
John gave a small laugh at this as he sat himself down on the arm of his chair, passing a beer bottle over to the detective inspector before getting one for himself.
"Well we're all just glad that you're home Sherlock," he said gingerly, taking a small mouthful of his drink before placing it down upon the table.
"Of course," Greg agreed with a small grin, raising up his bottle.
"Welcome back Sherlock Holmes."

The rest of the afternoon was filled with food, drinks, and even surprisingly a few games - the most memorable being Mrs Hudson and Mycroft versus each-other in an intense game of Twister (much to Sherlock and John's amusement). The curly-haired boy sat back comfortably in his sacred arm-chair, every now and again answering to somebody's question, a mug of tea grasped in his soft hands.
"Sherlock?" John asked curiously a few minutes later, whilst everybody else was topping up on drinks.
"I forgot to ask... but what was that toy otter all about earlier?"
"Oh.."
the curly-haired boy smiled to himself for a moment before taking a long sip of tea.
"When I was first admitted into hospital, I used to get cared a lot I suppose - you know it was hard for me," he began, his blue eyes twinkling slightly in the light.
"So one of the nurses I was particularly close to gave me a stuffed toy otter to keep me happy."
The blonde boy's face lit up at the story as he rested his head against Sherlock's shoulder.
"That's adorable," he commented with a small chuckle, resting a hand against Sherlock's chest.
"I love you Sherlock."
Sherlock slowly closed his eyes, giving John's hand a small squeeze of reassurance.
"And I love you too John Watson," he promised, leaning over and planting a kiss on the boy's lips.

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