"Ah… no, Sherlock and I… He left," John said softly, closing the door behind them. "A little over a month ago. Sent me a text and vanished. I… It’s fine, really, I just can’t help but worry about him. It was my job, for so long…"
He started brewing the tea with steady hands, preparing a little tray with sweeteners and mugs. “I’ve, um. I’ve moved on, though. I work with S.H.I.E.L.D., now, actually. We’re trying to help with the rift, and all the weird things happening because of it. i even get to go out into the field now and then. Mostly medical work, but it’s nice. It’s just enough excitement to keep me satisfied.
"Thing’s haven’t been… there was a rough spot, a while back, thought I wouldn’t recover… A, um… A demon…"
"Oh…" The Doctor’s brows furrow in confusion. In the version of the story of Sherlock and Doctor Watson, the two were inseparable. He wondered what could have caused the detective to go astray from his predestined track. "I’m sorry to hear that John. It’s only right for you to worry, of course. I’ve been through similar situations," he says quietly, allowing himself to take a seat in the man’s living room, watching and waiting attentively as he made their tea.
"That sounds excellent, John! Maybe you can keep me up to date, yeah? We can go on missions, cases of our own!" he calls to the doctor, shooting him a smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.
At John’s comment, the Doctor perks up, his gaze sharp. “What? What happened?”
John knew that sound, that familiar whirring accompanied with a gust of wind. It stirred the curtains of the living room and sent chills along his spine. Doctor, he thought with a smile. He hadn’t seen him since the hospital, where he’d blocked the memories of his time in his warehouse. I owe him, John thought. I owe him so much.
He walked out of the flat, not bothering with shoes as he jogged down the steps and into the little side garden, where the familiar blue box was materializing. He’d traveled in it before, though not with this man; with another, younger and shorter, though they were the same person (somehow). It had been fun.
"Doctor!" He called happily when the brown-haired man poked his head out. "It’s been a while!"
Well. He’s going to be surprised when he founds out. A lot’s happened since we last spoke… The demon, Jim…
"Come in for a cuppa? I was just about to put the kettle on when I heard the Tardis." He gave the Doctor a warm smile and motioned to the door.
The Doctor double-checked the scanner as his machine came to a halt, making sure they were in the right place—it wouldn’t be the first time she had sent him off track. When he steps out of the doors, his caution disappears, the voice of his first friend in the collapsing city of New York calling out to him.
"John!" He calls in reply, giving the man a broad smile and striding up to him to envelop him in a quick hug. "Indeed it has, my friend." Though his most recent memories with John were not the sweetest, he knew the doctor will have recollected at most his long-term memory of who he was and the other times they had been together, and not just their first meeting or his visit in the hospital.
The time lord beams, pulling away at his friend’s offer. “Tea, yes of course! Love tea, you know that! Will Sherlock be joining us?” He hadn’t seen the detective since the hospital as well—barely managing to brush past the man and still getting sighted by him. But what was he to expect? He was one of the world’s greatest minds after all. It would be nice to be able to catch up with the both of them.