John sat shivering beneath a rocky ledge, listening to the wind whistling by and wishing he was curled up safe and warm next to the only man he'd ever let himself love.
He tried to make himself comfortable as he listened.
Sleep had just begun to overpower him when he noticed that the whistling in the wind had changed. It sounded almost familiar.
He sat up and stuck his head out into the dark, listening attentively. At first there was nothing but the wind, and then he heard it again!
It was coming from afar and it sounded like...no, it couldn't be.
He crawled out from underneath the ledge and stood up fully.
He could almost make out a figure bracing the wind, moving in his direction.
"John! Are you here, John? Can you hear me?"
It was Sherlock!
John was so relieved to see him that he almost ran to hug him. Then he remembered that he was upset with the so-called "consulting detective" and he thought better of it.
He rested his back against the rocks. He knew Sherlock would find him sooner or later, but he didn't intend to make it easy.
"If you can hear me, John, I'm sorry!"
He closed his eyes and savored the moment. He had only ever seen Sherlock apologize once before and when the shock wore off, it was a rather pleasant feeling watching the man admit he was wrong.
"I do want to be with you, John! I just can't let my feeling for you get in the way of my work.
I know it sounds like I'm making excuses because I'm always working, but I try, John! In my own
way, I do try. It's just difficult for me and I need you to understand that. I need...I need you, John!
And I know you can hear me. I can see your leg peeking out behind that rock. Come out, John!"
John looked down.
Indeed, his right leg was peeking out further than the rest of his body.
"Damn my leg!" he called out.
Sherlock laughed.
John walked out from behind the rock and was immediately engulfed in a hug.
"Don't go back to London," Sherlock whispered.
"I wasn't planning on it," John chocked out, inhaling deeply into the taller man's neck.
After a brief silence, Sherlock replied, "I know."
They laughed together and separated.
Sherlock looked into his partner's eyes.
"Let's go back to bed; we have a big day tomorrow."
He took John's hand and led him back in the direction of the lodge, talking nonstop about his theory of the mysterious hound.
They didn't do a lot of sleeping back at the inn, but when they were finally exhausted enough to collapse,
they fell asleep curled up in each other's arms.
Epilogue
The next morning, when Sherlock and John went to grab a bit of breakfast,
John leaned over to the innkeeper and said conspiratorially, "To answer your question, no. He's a very light sleeper it turns out."
