Military Decoration

Sherlock is able to deduce a lot about a person just by looking at their sleeves, thumbs or the lower part of their pant legs. Most of the time the data he gets is enough to classify the subject and he can go on without learning about irrelevant data that he would eventually delete on the first occasion. But this does not apply for John. John is his big exception because after all this time he still does not know everything about John. Sherlock knows that there is much more to the doctor than the eye sees. Underneath his warm jumpers John is hiding a lot which is hard to figure out. Nobody without a back-story would react that calmly in situations like the ones John found himself in because of Sherlock´s cases. Sherlock was afraid that John would leave Bakerstreet after getting kidnapped or shot at but John stayed. He was happy about that but it made him wonder what John´s story might be. Yes of course John was a soldier but that didn´t prepare him for the things they did together.

Sherlock does not want John to know but he is secretly collecting all the data he can get about John and he looks at every detail that he can get. He found out a lot about John but he is still not satisfied. The way John likes his tea, his every day routine, his posture when he is angry or sad, the pitch of is voice when he is furious about something are all things he finds interesting but they don´t help him find out the deeper secrets of his room mate. So he watches John carefully and even followed him sometimes when he was extremely bored between cases but John never did something that broke ranks.

Sherlock is deeply in his thoughts, sitting at his usual spot eyes closed and both hands folded together under his chin while John reads today´s newspaper.

"No new case for you, mmhh?" John says after closing the papers and setting them on the table. No responses from the couch across the room.

"Sherlock?" John furrows his brows. Usually Sherlock is nerve-wrecking when he is not on a case. He would then run in circles, jump on the furniture and ask him every few minutes if Lestrade had gotten in contact because of a new case. But nothing like that happened. "Nah, but I have a task on my own" Sherlock said without opening his eyes. Well at least he responded John thinks to himself. "What kind of task?" No answer. And there he goes. John rolls his eyes over his room mate´s stoicism and stands up. "I´m gonna get some groceries since you nearly destroyed half the kitchen with your last experiment. You need something?" No answer. Fine. John inhaled loudly, put on his jacket and took an umbrella with him because it was drizzling. "Alright, see you later." With that John opened the door, took one last look at the consulting detective who was still motionless and deep in his thoughts and closed the door behind him with a sight.

Sherlock stayed in his posture until he heard the front door being opened and closed again. He immediately jumped up and moved to the window, watching John open his umbrella and then moving across the street in the direction of the next grocery store. John needed approximately 1.23 hours to go to the store, buy what Sherlock destroyed by accident (well, seemingly by accident) and then come back to Bakerstreet. That meant that Sherlock had from now on counting nearly an hour and a half time to search for answers in John´s room. He never entered John´s room before without his consent and therefore he had had no occasion to look in places a person would usually store important things of deeper meaning like the drawers for example. The only thing he was able to see was how neat and clean John´s room was. His bed was always without any wrinkles and on top of it were folded clothes for the next day. Sherlock knows that John wouldn´t want him to search his stuff and Sherlock would have respected his friend´s privacy but he was longing for answers. There must be something that could clear the fog in Sherlock´s mind when it comes to John. He needs to know...

Sherlock was magically drawn to the door of John´s room and his hands actually tremble when he pushes the door handle down and slowly opens the room. John´s room is very clean as usual and Sherlock is again surprised how everything in the room is in order. Obviously old habits from his military service. Sherlock quietly steps to the cabinet and reaches for the handle but freezes mid air. Do I really want to do this? John wouldn´t be pleased if he found out. But I need to know... Sherlock opens the biggest door and finds a big collection of jumpers of every from and colour. There is even the overly ugly one that John got from Mrs. Hudson last Christmas. Sherlock closes the door and kneels down to open the lower drawer. Socks. This isn´t going as Sherlock had pictured when he first planned to search the room. He starts turning around to look in the drawer next to John´s bed where he obviously stashes his gun because it is the nearest to him when he goes to sleep which is a reflex he does not have any control over. But something bothers the detective so he turns to the cabinet again. He opens the lower drawer again and finds what was bugging. From outside the drawer looks bigger than from the inside which means...Sherlock throws some socks through the air getting exited about he is going to find any second now. And there it is, a strap with which he opens the false bottom of the drawer. Jackpot Sherlock thinks while lifting the wooden board, revealing an old rusty metal box which had been red a long time ago.

Sherlock sits down on the bed and puts the box right next to him. His eyes widen with excitement while he slowly opens the lid. The first thing that catches his eye are a bunch of old yellowed pictures showing John at different ages, sometimes with family members (the resemblance is very obvious) and sometimes with friends. The most interesting one for Sherlock is the picture of John in his uniform standing shoulder to shoulder with five other soldiers, a bright smile on everybody´s face. It must have been a picture from the trainings camp before the young soldiers were send into war. Sherlock wondered how many of the men were still alive. He lays the pictures beside him and concentrates his attention on the other items in the box. There is some kind of stuffed animal which was obviously hand made by someone who had no idea what he was doing (maybe it was a gift by Harry) and the worn out parts of the fabric shows that it must have been cuddled a lot. Sherlock also finds some postcards and letters written by old school friends of John, telling him about their great weekend in Italy, inviting him to their marriages or enthusing about the dream job they just got. Under these letters Sherlock finds John´s dog tags. He holds them in his hands for a while before carefully placing them next to the other items. Now the box is nearly empty. There is only something left that looks like an old stained cloth but it looks like something is wrapped inside it. The detective lifts the bundle up and unfolds the cloth. Something shiny comes to light and Sherlock does not trust his eyes. In his hands he sees a medal but not just any medal. A bronze cross patée bearing the crown of Saint Edward surmounted by a lion and the inscription "IN VALOUR", hanging on a crimson ribbon.

The Victoria Cross?! This can´t be real. Sherlock carefully turned the cross in his hands and caught his breath when he read the inscription on the back.

Capt. John Hamish Watson

Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers

20th May 1989

Oh my...

Sherlock Holmes is at a loss of words and that means something. It´s a wonder that he doesn´t forget how to breath at this point. He wonders what may have happened on the 20th of May in 1989. Was that when he was shot?

"So this is the great task you talked about before." Sherlock jumps and nearly kicks the box over the bed´s edge. John stands in the door frame watching him closely and Sherlock brakes eye contact, feeling guilty (yes exactly, Sherlock feels guilty) about going through John´s stuff. "John...I´m sorry...I was just...curious" Sherlock stumbles over his own words while putting everything he spread over the bed back into the box, not realizing that he keeps the medal in his hand.

"Just curious, mhhh?" If Sherlock would look up instead of hastily apologising and making a mess while trying to fit everything in the small box he would see a smile on John´s face. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed and grinning while Sherlock goes head over heals trying to fix his mess and still shocked about his discovery. He enjoys seeing Sherlock like this for a change but he decides to put him out of his misery.

"I wondered how long it would take you to finally find it." Sherlock doesn´t understand the full meaning of what he just said at first but then he stops and looks at John in disbelieve.

"What?"

"Well, of course I thought you would find this earlier." Sherlock stares at John so he continues "I know you long enough now to figure that you would probably feel the urge to find out even my best hidden secrets. Don´t think I didn´t notice how you observed my every movement over the past few weeks." Sherlock looks John in the eyes and then drops his gaze to his hands in which he is still holding the Victoria Cross with John´s name engraved on the back. Sherlock lifts his gaze in question.

"I know what you want to know but it is all classified. If you want to know what happened in 1989 you have to either ask your brother or wait until 2029 when it´s officially allowed to talk about it." Sherlock´s expression changes to something John would describe as pouting. John smiles. You can´t always get what you want, my friend.

Realizing that John was actually smiling a thought runs through Sherlock´s mind.

"So you´re not mad?" John laughs loudly this time. Sherlock sounds just like a little kid after braking its mother´s favourite vase.

"No, I´m not mad. I am not allowed to talk about what happened but I am sure that you will find a way to figure at least parts of it out. I like the idea to finally having someone to talk to." Sherlock´s eyes glistened with joy.

"Would you now please leave my room, I have to clean up the mess you made." Sherlock jumps up, gently lays the medal down on the bed and quickly exits the room. When John finally is alone in his room he smiles and shakes his head. He is like a 3-year-old on a sugar rush. He takes up the cross and holds it in his hands for a while.

I bet my favourite jumper that Sherlock is texting Microft right now. He smiles.

The End

For Jewelie-chan. A little late but I gave my best. Hope you enjoy it.