Sherlock watched the doctor faze out after his final string of words. John was a dweller, worrier. Sherlock was clearly alive before him, but he still seemed burdened by the idea that he had been dead. “Well, you’ve made your decision now- you can be yourself, again.” It wouldn’t be that easy, though Sherlock wouldn’t understand. “And it is a foolish decision, but you’ve tied my hands and I’ve nothing left but to accept it, even if bitterly. Your stubbornness might kill you alongside me, but-” he sighed, though it sounded more of relief than anger, “-we’ll just have to share a coffin, I suppose.”
-

“Oh, God, share a coffin? With you?” John muttered, humour lacing his words. “I thought 221B was enough.” 

(Excerpt; Kenzie as John, Shy as Sherlock.)
(May or may not be finished. Part of a matching pair.)