Thanks to Ennui Enigma for the title that inspired this.
Dedicated to absent friends, and travellers finding their weary way home. Without you our lives would be a little less bright, a lot less colourful.
Every day since the day Sherlock had fallen, Martha Hudson had climbed the seventeen stairs to 221B, determined not to lose her other tenant. John had understood her fears, and that alone kept him going on the days when the feeling of loss was really bad.
Today as she walked through the door Martha knew something was different, something in the atmosphere had changed. John was sitting in his armchair, his laptop lay open on the coffee table, the teapot and cups on a tray next to it.
"Right on time as usual." He looked up at her. "I've made tea, come and sit down."
Sitting opposite him, she saw he was holding a piece of polished green stone, turning it in his palm, stopping now and again to rub his thumb across it. Catching his eye she gave him a questioning look.
"It's an Inukshuk," he explained. "A Canadian friend of mine gave it to me. It's a native Inuit tradition, put up as a landmark in a land where natural landmarks are few and far between."
"Like pathfinders?"
"Something like that; a guide to help you find your way home." John smiled a bright hopeful smile. "I thought I'd put it in the window, so Sherlock would know I was still here waiting, should he decide to come back."
A/N: A special thank you goes to MapleleafCameo - I hope I managed to get the meaning right in the limited word count.