John H Watson

Sherlock stepped out of the car onto Baker Street his eyes on the door in front of him 221B Baker Street.
There was nothing odd about his reaction to being on the street apart from the fact he hadn't been there in three years. Three long years. It had taken him that long to destroy the rest of Moriarty criminal underworld.
Sherlock was sure John would have forgot about him by now and the name Sherlock hadn't crossed his mind in along time. Sherlock was sure John was in for a unpleasant shock when he stepped into the flat after so long.
Thankfully he still had his key and he crept quietly upstairs he didn't want John or Mrs. Hudson to hear him if they were in and if they were he wanted it all to be a surprise even if it was a unpleasant one for them both.
He looked around the living room and kitchen and it looked the same as it had when he was lead out in handcuffs. The skull was in its place and John's things were left around the room.
He took in everything. It was a dusty but he was beginning to picture John's life without him within the flat.
The room was dusty so John hadn't been there in a few months he guessed. Everything else was the same as it had been for the most part.
So where was John then?
Heading for John's room and opening the door he found everything as it should be. The bed was made the way John always made it. Some of John's clothes were missing but John's favourite clothes still remained and a few of John's books were missing as well other things but lastly John gun was missing.
But where was John?
So John was away. He still lived here. He didn't need a lot of civilian clothing only light items.
So John.............,Mycroft!!