James Sholto agreed to recuperate in the hospital if John returned and enjoyed his wedding reception. John reluctantly agreed knowing Sholto will keep his word. After all this time, John still trusted him.

The door to his hospital room opened. Sholto hadn't expected any visitors, certainly not the one standing before him. "Shouldn't the best man be at the wedding, Mr. Holmes?"

"John asked me to check on you," said Sherlock.

"You may be a great detective, Mr. Holmes, but you're a terrible liar."

Normally, Sherlock wouldn't have a problem lying. But even lying injured in a hospital bed, Sholto carried himself with an air of dignity and honor that he felt too shamefaced to lie to the Major. When did he start holding such regard for soldiers? Oh wait…

"So, what are you doing here, Mr. Holmes?"

Sherlock couldn't answer honestly, because the truth was, he didn't know himself. He felt like Sholto had a piece of John's heart that Sherlock will never see and an insight into John's soul that he'll never have.

But Sherlock never liked to admit not knowing. "I did help save your life, Major. I'm, you know, invested. And you're a friend of John's. A friend of John's is a friend of mine. And John is my friend, my best friend. That's why I'm his best man."

"Yes, that was a very touching speech you gave. Your love for John was made abundantly clear." Based on the detective's fidgety body language, Sholto was getting uncomfortably close to the truth, and he knew it. "And John clearly loves you."

There was a note of longing in Sholto's voice that evoked Sherlock's sympathy. Maybe it was because he knew what Sholto was feeling.

"Perhaps if things were different, perhaps if I had made different decisions, I could have been the one up there today, the one by John's side."

Sherlock had a feeling Sholto wasn't talking about being John's best man. "Why weren't you?"

Sholto didn't answer at first, not that Sherlock had expected one. Sholto was a very private man, and this was certainly a private matter. But Sherlock's eyes held a sadness that reflected the sadness in Sholto's own soul. That gave Sholto a kinship with Sherlock that he hadn't felt with another person in a long time.

"When Watson came under my command, we became…very close."

"How close?" Sherlock knew he was probably crossing a line, but curiosity, and perhaps a little jealousy, made him keep prying.

Sholto chuckled. "Nothing scandalous, Mr. Holmes. Intimate relations between two male soldiers is…discouraged. I held great affection for Watson. When he was injured and discharged, he asked me to retire and join him in civilian life. I, of course, choose my career."

Sherlock thought back to the day he met John. He flirted with Sherlock and asked him if he had a boyfriend. He told John that he considered himself married to his work. What could have been if he hadn't said that?

"Of course, my career ended for me with that failed mission. And when I had to return to civilian life, I had no one to turn to."

"Why didn't you contact John? I'm sure he would have been more than happy to...rekindle your old friendship." Sherlock couldn't keep the envy out of his voice.

"John didn't need me." Sholto looked Sherlock directly in the eyes. "He had you."

Sherlock felt like a jolt went through him. He wanted to look away, but there was an intensity in Sholto's eyes prevented Sherlock from doing so. "I…I don't know what you…"

"As close as I like to think Watson and I were, I'll tell you one thing Mr. Holmes, he has never looked at me the way he looks at you."

Sherlock felt so uncomfortable and exposed. He was afraid to believe Sholto. He was afraid to believe John could possibly feel that way about him.

"Take some advice from me, Mr. Holmes. Cherish your friendship with John Watson. There's no higher honor than being by his side. He's a good man."

"Yes, the best." Sherlock extended his hand to Sholto. He took Sherlock's hand in a firm grip and shook it. "Speedy recovery, Major."

As he got up to leave, Sholto called after him. "Mr. Holmes…"

Sherlock turned around just as he reached the threshold.

"Did you get what you came here for?"

"I think so, James. I think so." With that, Sherlock raised the collar of his coat and left Sholto to rest.