John Watson stood outside 221b Baker Street and took a deep breath. This was the first time he'd been out on his own in weeks. Sherlock had been a little overprotective but he understood why and he appreciated him caring. In fact all his friends had been a little overprotective so it felt good to have five minutes to himself.

He'd been home from the hospital for about three weeks now. In that time all of his memories had returned to him except the short period between leaving Baker Street that fateful morning and waking up in hospital with Jim Moriarty by his side claiming to be his best buddy. He could live with that he decided. He didn't really want or need to know what Moriarty had done to him to convince him that Sherlock was the enemy. He knew drugs had been involved and that was enough.

His friends had been great, coming round to visit and helping him fill in the gaps. Molly, Greg, even Mike Stamford had been round to see him, it had all helped him piece things back together. But now he was ready to get back to normal.

He had been out of the flat before today but only with a chaperone. Sherlock hadn't even let him go to the corner shop alone, he'd made Mrs Hudson go with him. Mind you Sherlock had wanted to go to start off with. Oh god, can you imagine that he thought. Sherlock going shopping with him, John couldn't think of anything worse. It wasn't like he could get lost going to the corner shop anyway, with or without his memory. He tried to tell Sherlock that but he had a feeling Sherlock was more worried about Moriarty than him getting lost.

Still this morning John had managed to persuade Sherlock that he was fine, that he was quite capable of looking after himself just as he had been before all of this and that a walk to the corner shop on his own was just what he needed. Sherlock hadn't been happy about it but eventually he'd agreed.

So now John stood on the pavement outside 221b Baker Street on his own for the first time in weeks and it felt good. He took another deep breath and then turned left ready to head to the shops. After all he couldn't be too long or Sherlock would send out a search party. That thought put a smile on his face as he headed down the road.

Sherlock stood in 221b Baker Street watching his best friend walk down the road alone. It took all of his willpower not to go running after him but he'd promised. John had no idea how hard this was for him. John had no idea how hard those weeks had been without him, when Sherlock didn't know where he was, what had happened to him or if he was even alive. Then he'd had to sit and watch John suffer the pain and confusion of having no memories. Sherlock couldn't bear for that to happen again.

Still he knew John was right. He couldn't be with him every second of the day and John was perfectly capable of looking after himself. He'd been a soldier for god's sake. Sherlock sighed, turned away from the window and went and sat down. This was going to be the longest five minutes of his life, he just knew it.

John strolled down the road. He was happy with his life. If this whole thing had taught him anything it was that he had good friends who really cared about him and that was definitely something to be grateful for. However, the further he got from the safety of 221b the more nervous he became. Pull yourself together, he thought, you're a grown man for Christ's sake you can go to the shop alone.

Nerves were to be expected John decided what with the memory loss and then being cooped up for so long it was just strange to be on his own that's all. He took a deep breath, pulled himself up straight and carried on walking. He found himself constantly looking around, checking out every person he passed like they were a danger or something. What was he doing? This was ridiculous. He wasn't on the battlefield now, he was walking down Baker Street. He just needed to get some milk and tea bags it wasn't that hard.

By the time John reached the shop his pulse was racing and his breathing was fast. He went in through the door and stood in the aisle staring around him. He was having a panic attack he suddenly realised. He couldn't believe it. What was happening to him if he couldn't even go to the corner shop without panicking?

"Are you OK?" a young woman asked him "Can I help you with anything?"

John composed himself trying desperately to slow his breathing. "No I'm fine thanks" he replied, strode over to the tea bags and grabbed a box off the shelf. You're nearly done, he thought, just milk and head home, you'll be fine. He was fighting now to keep his panic under control but he was determined to get through this. There was no way he was letting Moriarty win.

He was starting to realise that his apprehension came from the fact that he had no idea how he ended up with Moriarty before so he didn't know how to stop it happening again. Still there was no way he was giving in to this. Most people did not work for Jim Moriarty. Most people were just ordinary folks out getting their shopping he told himself.

He took his two items to the till, paid and left, hurriedly walking back up the street towards 221b, towards Sherlock and somewhere he felt safe.

Sherlock had given up trying to sit calmly while waiting for his friend to return. He was now pacing the living room and looking out of the window every few seconds trying to see John coming back. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he left even if it was only about five minutes.

When Sherlock spotted John he knew something was wrong. John was staring straight ahead walking quickly towards the flat but he never normally walked that fast. He looked almost frightened Sherlock thought. He watched him carefully until he got to the front door and Sherlock heard him unlock it and enter.

John opened the black door, walked in, shut it behind him and then leant on it breathing heavily. He'd made it. Home, safe and sound. He was breathing too hard, he couldn't go upstairs like this, Sherlock would know something was wrong. He took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself and then walked slowly up the stairs.

When he got to the kitchen to put the shopping down Sherlock was waiting for him. "You OK?" he asked. John wasn't ready for this he knew he couldn't answer that convincingly right now so he didn't, he just dumped the bag and headed to the bathroom went inside and locked the door.

"John! John are you OK?" Sherlock called after him.

"Yeah, just give me a minute." he called back. He leaned on the sink staring at himself in the mirror. Jesus what is wrong with you he asked himself. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Gradually he could feel his heart rate slowing and he felt calmer. He rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. Come on you can do this he told himself. Then he flushed the toilet, washed his hands and left the room as if nothing was wrong.

Sherlock was waiting in the hallway, he eyed John suspiciously. "What?" John asked.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just got caught short that's all. Cuppa?" John asked as he walked past his friend into the kitchen.

"Please." Sherlock replied. He stared at John for a little while longer and then headed to the living room and sat down. He knew something wasn't right but he also knew John was not about to tell him about it. As hard as it was Sherlock was just going to have to wait for his answers.

John breathed a sigh of relief as Sherlock went and sat down. He knew his friend had seen through him but it seemed he wasn't going to push for answers, not yet anyway.