John wakes up in a daze. As he stretches he realizes that the other side of the bed is empty. It hasn't been empty in little under a year, since he and Sherlock had gotten together. It was after the whole Mary fiasco played out and John learned the truth; that Sherlock had flat lined that fateful day when he was shot. He hadn't realized how symbolic that all was of how they were both feeling.
After that happened, he realized he knew what he always wanted and that was Sherlock. They had been there for each other through thick and thin and he realized he'd never had someone like that before, even in Mary. Shortly after that realization, he moved back into Baker Street and slowly started to patch up the mess he'd made of things with Sherlock.
About a month after he'd been back and things were relatively back to normal, they got a new case. This one having to do with a Baskerville copycat. Only this time it didn't have to do with a lab, it had everything to do with stealing and killing domestic pets and particularly dogs. It was then that I realized how invested into animal welfare Sherlock was. He was affected by that case more than he let on. When the case was finally cracked and we were safe back home in Baker Street, Sherlock locked himself into his room for 2 days. John didn't understand why but eventually he emerged his old self and acted as if nothing was wrong. So John let it be.
Ever since that case though, Sherlock had been treating him differently; he's been extremely flirty and touchy. John doesn't know what prompted the change but he found himself liking it more and more. Shortly after that, John asked Sherlock to dinner and that night they kissed for the first time, in Regents Park under a lamp post. They've been together ever since.
Jumping forward to present day, John finally gets out of bed and after washing up he makes his way out to the sitting area where he expects to find Sherlock but the detective is nowhere to be found. Thinking that maybe he'd gone for a walk, John puts some tea on and makes himself some breakfast. As he eats he can't help but think what had gotten into his crazy flatmate, and decides to text him.
John: Where are you?
When he finishes eating and cleaning up, and he still hasn't heard from Sherlock, he decides to make a visit to Ms. Hudson and see if she knows where Sherlock's got off to.
John makes the short journey down to Ms. Hudson's flat and knocks on her door. She opens it and says "Oh John, I wondered when you'd be stopping by" and John walks in and sits down at her small wooden table and looks at her "Do you know where Sherlock is? He almost never leaves the flat without telling me where he's going, at least not in the past 7 months or so."
Ms. Hudson grimaces and says "Yes dear, I know where he is. I'm surprised he hasn't told you about this himself but, given the circumstances I think you ought to know"
John waits patiently for her to continue very curious as to what she could have to say and also nervous about where Sherlock could be.
"Today is an anniversary of sorts for Sherlock, not a very good one mind you but it is one nonetheless. You may or may not know this but when Sherlock was a child, he had a lovely dog named Redbeard. He was an Irish Setter and Sherlock's first and only true friend."
John sat in his chair aching, just thinking about a little Sherlock all alone except his lovely dog and Sherlock had never told him any of this. Before John could say so, Ms. Hudson continued:
"Redbeard was such a wonderfully energetic and happy dog and Sherlock loved him with all his heart. He was loyal, caring, had a love for people and was happy. However, one day when Sherlock had come back home from school, Redbeard didn't come running and Sherlock, the clever boy he was, immediately knew something was wrong. Later that afternoon, Mycroft told him that Redbeard had gone away to live on a nice lovely farm in the country and that we wouldn't get to see him for a while. That nearly broke Sherlock's little heart and he hardly left his room for weeks. As he got older, he realized that Mycroft had lied to him and, that he had actually been put down because he was extremely ill; congestive heart failure and Cushing's disease. It was so bad that he was gasping for air. His quality of life was so horrible so they made a decision; without letting Sherlock know."
John sat on the edge of his seat, tears prickling the corners of his eyes.
"Well today is the anniversary of his death; August 27. Sherlock created a memorial for him in one of his favorite places and he usually spends all day there when he goes. Even though it's been years it still affects him so much. I'm so glad he has you now John. How you've been with him all these years and even now is the happiest I've seen him in a very long time."
John didn't quite know how to respond to that so he just nodded, not quite fully meeting her eye.
Ms. Hudson replied with a smile "Now I know you probably want to find Sherlock, am I right?" John nodded again and she continued "I thought so, the monument is near Regents Park as that was their favorite place to play. Do you know the pond with the willow?"
John smiled fondly and said "Yes I know it well, Sherlock and I often go for walks in the park" Contemplating what Ms. Hudson had said, he couldn't believe how he had missed the monument. "But I don't understand how I could have missed the monument, we've been there so many times-"
"You couldn't have known John."
John solemnly nodded his head in affirmation and thanked Ms. Hudson and gave her a hug before grabbing his coat, keys and phone and catching a taxi to Regent's Park, all the while thinking what he would say once he found his dear boyfriend.
When he arrived, he paid the cabbie and got out and walked strait to the pond with the willow. He stopped and observed before making his way through the tree arched path until he came to the woody clearing and his heart jumped into his throat at what he saw next. There was Sherlock on a stone bench staring at a statue of a young boy, who he presumed to be Sherlock and an Irish-Setter who must be his beloved friend Redbeard and he had a tear-stained face and his hands were folded in his lap.
John slowly made his way over to the bench, the wood chips crunching under each footstep and sat next to Sherlock gently putting his hand on Sherlock's back in comfort. Sherlock, jolted out of his reverie turned to face John and collapsed into his arms; head slotting into the crook of John's neck his arms weaving their way around his waist. Neither of them knew how long they stayed that way; Sherlock collapsed into John's arms and John gently rubbing circles on his back.
When Sherlock finally sits back up, he grabs one of John's hands so as to not to eliminate contact completely and says, "Thank you, John. I'm assuming Ms. Hudson told you and thank you for coming. Sometime in the near future I will tell you all about Redbeard, but not today. You may think it strange that even years after I'd still be affected, but I am."
John squeezes his hand "I understand Sherlock and I am so sorry. Know that I will be here with you for as long as you allow it."
Sherlock nods his head and clasps his hand with John's intertwining their fingers.
They stay there in that spot, looking at that statue and holding each other for the rest of the day; full of emotion but glad to be in the safety of each other's arms.
