That..that was art at its finest.

Like, but a little confused.

Amazing.

Good story!

A whole month passed after Sherlock's return and John himself didn't even realize how quickly things were returning to… not normal, exactly, but a new definition of normal that surpassed the one they both cherished three years prior.

clunky open...a whole month as opposed to a partial one or a divided one?

john (himself not needed)

try something with punch -

A sad little flat near Regents park that looked like a thousand others on this side of London had slept in sorrow, abandoned for three tragic years. Once it had been a place of remarkable events, excitement and joy. That had all been swept away one day. There were no more decorative bullets or swarms of police officers or entertaining little domestics. The world stopped spinning for the little comfortable flat and only echos of a violin and a faint odd smell disturbed the mice and moths from feeling pleased with their newest residence.

The little flat stood empty but strong, puzzled by the thick dust and the woman who sometimes opened the door and closed her eyes. She didn't bring any new hearts here and she closed the door as if the flat were somehow to blame that it was unwanted now.

One day they came back. The hearts that belonged to the little flat filled it up again and by the end of the first month, there was no sad left between these walls. The hearts were not the same, but they were also bigger and brightly filled the flat up to the rafters. The darkness is swept away with the mouse droppings and the light and the screech of a violin and that perfectly horrid smell wafted on breezes like it was supposed to.

(it is your ending and I think you can say so much about it all using the metaphorical flat POV - saying things are back to some form of normal and setting the time line without just saying - a month later - just an idea-plus you have the added 'between' of the walls that is your theme for this chapter)

then go on to the Moran part but don't begin it as negative.

There is tension for a few days as the name Moran is chanted obsessively. Sherlock paces. John is full of steel and frowns and madly sweeps and scrubs and unpacks and glares as his flatmate reassembles chaos.

then start your line - Through the brutality...

The rest is perfect and just adorable. Great story, hope my suggestions are helpful and don't sound too bossy - just tossing out ideas and thoughts as I go.

The chapter is great but there are alot of moments in which there is a response to something that is unclear -

Sherlock finally found himself thinking on John's own moments and decided, 'So Would I'.

So would he what? This phrasing is either too far from the spot he is agreeing with or it is the john's own moments that need expanded...it lost me.

paper cut men with grim Cheshire-Cat grins with eyes the size of blocks of granite leaning over his prone figure which thrummed with pain.

I adore the paper-cut men (but it needs to be specific that they are not people who have papercuts but are shapes rather than people who have handled paper and been injured)

rephrase...

What were once memories of a burned battlefield were replaced with dark edges of blurred out images, paper cut men with grim Cheshire-Cat grins with eyes the size of blocks of granite leaning over his prone figure which thrummed with pain.

Once upon a nightmare, he'd lived in burnt out battle fields with war damaged spirits fleeing from the bodies of soldiers, who had moments before, been carefree boys seeking adventure. Now, his dream warped land of memory offered the grim Cheshire-cat grins of men with cold, granite eyes and features so obscure and blurred that they were just the shadows of cut out paper dolls. Pain, as real in his nocturnal terror as it had been the day this loop of horror had been recorded, thrums in his synapses again and again as the tormentors lean over his prone body. Please, God, don't let me survive much longer. (see how the adjustment is a bit more clear? I just added the last because it seemed to fit with the contrasts - once he begged to live, but this was so horrific his prayer was not to - and shows that he has no intent to face this - which ties in with Ella.)

John never awoke with a gasp of fright or a sigh of relief. (this is good - but would be better if the next line gave a picture of what he did wake to - not afraid but no relief is sort of too neutral - He woke up filled with hatred. He hated them and Him and most of all, he hated that long ago John Watson who had failed and the shell who still seemed to be breathing. - Just ides to ramp up and clarify the emotion.)

An off kilter paradox that John now fit within quite well.

not a sentence...and though it is very pretty strung together, it obscures more than it explains.

Informative eyes bleak with newfound knowledge stayed closed, even as the breathing pattern pressed against John's rib cage became increasingly more erratic.

-how can eyes that are closed have newfound knowledge - who - are johns eyes informing Sherlock? or is john laying with his eyes closed imagining that Sherlock is watching him and imagining that his eyes must be bleak? So Sherlock is breathing erraticly - or john? See this is confusing because his eyes were open - by the water stain peeking out of the corner of his eye -

until he was finally noticed. - past? noticed by what? Peeking in present tense - he's noticing - now he's finally noticing again - that is off.

The dreams (that he remembered) began to crinkle at the edges as well, even as John attempted to hold onto them.

The dreams begin to crinkle at the edges and slip away. (Why would he try to hold on to them - huh? And the ones he didn't remember would hardly need to crinkle - because he doesn't remember them so you don't need to specify - that he remembered)

Even as he slept, however, dark, decrepit eyes still lingered as pictures of bruises and broken bones were torched in favor of stifling dark rooms and stretches of pale luminous skin everywhere.

Eyes are lingering - but they look like bruises in photographs and also look like broken bones - now the eyes or the bones are being burnt because attention to these strange eyes is now drawn to a room full of skin...is this a dream or is he looking at Sherlock and Sherlock is thinking of dead bodies - confusing - try fewer purple flowers and give us some verbs and subject nouns.

I can't figure out what head we are in here.

Sherlock watches John sleep. He observes carefully each new scar and imagines the bruises that once adorned these precious patches of luminous skin. The fine lines, puckering burns and slight structure changes from bone fracture, spoke honestly the things his broken friend refused to acknowledge.

The laugh lines around John's mouth were crinkled in a facsimile of a frown even within sleep, though the detective had long guessed that that was a façade as well.

crinkled like dreams? find another word for one or the other - facsimile of a frown - they are displaying something that looks like a frown or a frown copy - but not an actual frown? even within sleep - but the sleep is as fake as the frown so why observe it ?

You are going around the barn to say too much about nothing.

John frowns, his smile lines warped with long days of grief. He is only pretending to sleep, but Sherlock allows John to think he is clever enough to fool him so that he may continue to silently gather and observe all the clues of this John puzzle.

In this instance it was near impossible to force his emotions away from the matter at hand, disgusted that they had kept the detective blinded from the truth for so long. (past)and so an emotion besides disgust)

It is nearly impossible for Sherlock to force his emotions away and see John clearly. His heart has tried to paint a pretty lie, because he didn't want to accept the obvious. Disgust rages against logic. Anger knows no outlet, and feels like steam in a closed chamber. For now, Mycroft is the target of this dangerous internal combustion he is attempting to restrain. He knows he can't afford to display any hint that he is mad at John for not staying safe and at himself for leaving the most important being in his world to the care of fools.

This paragraph is fantastic - I would change the last line -

A new warzone had been presented to a broken doctor courtesy of the infantile detective everyone knew to be dangerous. (Sherlock is thinking in third person - try

A new warzone was presented to the broken Doctor. He had not managed to think his way out. He always loved danger. But he always won. John had never let him down. Even when he couldn't follow Sherlock's thought process, his remarkable instincts never failed. Had they failed? Had he made an error, or a decison?

If it was an error, John would have admitted that he'd made a mistake. John was too noble not to take responsibility for an unintended consequence. So, the fact he is hiding something means he bears some personal guilt he refuses to acknowledge. Oh. He walked into it ignoring his gut instincts. He didn't want to win. It wasn't a test of his ability for the rush of victory. It was much more final, much more secret. It is unspeakable because winning was not his intention.

one person who would have taken those moments and made them their own. -

one person who would have cared about the outcomes of those moments. He had never considered that John might have welcomed the danger once he was not needing to protect the one who brought him into the game. He would have tried to save Sherlock if they had been together. How had he missed that John would risk a different level of danger precisely because in his mind he'd failed. He had taken away John's reason to win and assumed he would no longer play. Stupid.

Sherlock finally found himself thinking on John's own moments and decided, 'So Would I'.

Now with that setup you can come back and adjust this -

Sherlock finally found himself thinking on John's own moments and decided, 'So Would I'.

to -

'I would have kept playing too. I would not have cared if I lost either. In fact. Oh, of course.'

So I don't know if this will help you or not - but i think I followed well enough to stay in the spirit you intended and hope that it shows where things were just worded in ways that clouded up this section a little. It isn't bad - but it does have spots that just don't tack together smoothly - the flow is lurchy and just needs another pass to make it more shiny.

now the best stuff...

How far out of their depth has NSY fallen without me to cushion their fall? No pun intended of course.

SH

Rolling on floor - the best Hello i'm not quite dead line since - let's have dinner - seriously!

And lo and behold who was shuffling through the refuge of files that littered Lestrade's desk but the one man he wished he could hurt almost as much as the unholy bastard that had wounded the one person who had not once stopped believing in Sherlock Holmes. - Loved this - so perfect!

"Because if that's the case then I'll kindly ask you to get the fuck out of my office and not come back Sherlock."

Ahh- protective Lestrade of awesomeness!

"So that's not my file on the floor next to your foot?"

Ok - right in the middle of terrible - and John is so back to seeing through sherlock's crap - hooray!

"As much as my temper will allow me."

You do the math on how well I could mutilate your corpse and make it look like a complete accident."

OMG - funny!

I didn't matter to you. Not a bit! If I had, you wouldn't have jumped. That's what I thought. God, I was still right. You might not be dead but you may as well have been and I didn't even matter enough to warrant even the slightest of warnings. - absolutely heartwrenching and perfect and so full of love and hate and truth - the very best reveal of the story!

You blew something up didn't you? -agggh! so funny!

They were both finally home.

Super sweet!

great chapter - other than the one section that went off a bit - sorry so long - grin

AWESOME! i already loved you on the criminal minds world, and now you've joined the ranks with Sherlock! Kudos to you, i'm waiting for the epilogue!

ARE

i loved it! mind me, i've already read the other two chapters, and then i noticed how your story wasn't getting reviews! this is a travesty! just give it some time, good stories always get recongnition, one way or another :)

thanks for writting!

YOU

OMG this was amazing! I loved it! Great job!

well it is a very intriguing beginning. very curiouse to see where you take it.

You have a very nice voice and though there are some confusing elements it still has enough push to find out what is next that I do want to keep reading.

I have to assume some encounter with his assasin and yet there is more to it than that alone if you follow your foreshadowing. I am very impressed with your use of language - there is description, emotion, dialogue in most cases well proportioned.

I do have a small issue with Mycroft not simply laying the information on the line - because if he has any kindness or actual fondness or even pity for John, he would want to give Sherlock all the necessary tools to prepare his brother to be of help rather than send him into a situation that would inevitably lead to John's destruction. Without Sherlock having some idea of what he's facing it is entirely too easy for him to make some remark or error that would lead to John making a rash decision.

The only hope for Sherlock to actually help John to heal is to show him that his friend accepts - not for them to come out in a shock of emotion or as a moment of rage makes it's way into some small misunderstanding.

Now if Mycroft can deduce what will occur in that possible event, and he is not actually out to destroy both john and his brother - his only option would be to prepare them both and hope for the best - so to taunt Sherlock with information he has is rather cruel. It may not be his place to tell him, but if he doesn't, the outcome could be far beyond his wishes.

I do see the angle of wanting john to tell him in his own fashion and in his own time - but this could still occur with sherlock forewarned and more able to be patient.

Ok hope that helps - love the story so far.