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It had been two weeks since he almost got sent to his death. Two weeks since Mycroft faked Moriarty return to save his little brother. Two weeks since he had seen John for the last time and almost confessed his feelings to him.
He saw the dog for the first time when visiting Billy Wiggins in the empty house he was squatting at the time. The small puppy was lying on a pile of old clothes close to Billy. When Sherlock asked about him Wiggins explained that he had found him outside and had not had it in him to let him die even if he was not really a dog person. He had just started to explain he didn’t know yet how he would feed him when Sherlock said:
“I will take him.”
The homeless man was surprised, but grateful.
On the way home Sherlock told himself multiple times that it was definitely not because he was feeling lonely. Definitely not.
He called the dog Gladstone. He chose the name because John had once told him that if he ever got a dog that was what he would name it. It was late and they had been watching crap TV. There must have been something in what they were watching that made John brought the subject, but he could not remember what it was. Only the name and when John had asked how Sherlock would name a dog if he had one.
John joked about him potentially using the name of some obscure serial killers, but Sherlock never answered the question. He didn’t talk about Redbeard.
He never thought he would get another dog.
No matter how much he protested to Copernicus, his skull, that he was not lonely he could not deny that having the puppy live with him made him feel better. Gladstone immediately took to him for some reason and started following him around and falling asleep on him at every occasion he got.
No matter where Sherlock fell asleep when he woke up there was always a little ball of fur lying close to him if not on him. When he did his experiments Gladstone would sit and play close to him with some old medical journal he had left for him to destroy.
One time Sherlock took a longer shower than usual masturbating and trying really hard not to think about john. He failed, like always, but when he got out he found the dog sitting in front of the door. Gladstone jumped on him and looked at him like he thought he had lost him forever. Sherlock complained Gladstone was really not the smartest of dogs, but he still took him in his arms and felt a little better for it.
At least someone needed him.
When Sherlock told Mrs Hudson he had gotten a dog she was taken aback. Then she saw him with Gladstone. Sherlock was lying on the sofa thinking and the small puppy was asleep on his stomach. The dog woke up and yapped at her, making Sherlock smile. She wondered why she had never thought of getting Sherlock a dog before.
Mycroft turn to learn about Gladstone came. His brother had taken to visits him more often without any reasons other than wanting to see him. Sherlock suspected he really just wanted to make sure he had not started taking drugs again, but he didn’t protest too much. After all, he had been very tempted to turn to drugs again before Gladstone.
Mycroft raised an eyebrow at the small dark brown puppy coming toward him with enthusiasm.
“A dog, brother?”
“Problem?” Sherlock asked, tense.
Mycroft looked at him like he was reading his mind and nodded.
“Of course not.”
A flash of sadness came and went in his eyes when he watched Gladstone jump on Sherlock lap. Sherlock ignored it. Mycroft always understood too much.
The first time he brought Gladstone with him to a crime scene, he gave him to an agent to watch while he worked and warned him that if anything happened to the dog he would regret having ever entered the police force. The young officer nodded, terrified, and Lestrade looked conflicted between shock, and a strong desire to laugh.
Sally made a joke about him replacing John with a dog, but Lestrade gave her a warning look and she stopped there. Sherlock just kept on working.
Sherlock had not seen John in two months when he received a text from him asking if he could come by. Sherlock was so shocked it took him twenty minutes to answer. Even Gladstone looked worried for him.
He finally settled for:
“I don’t have a case, but you can still come if you want. SH”
For a moment he was afraid John would change his mind when he learned that Sherlock had no case on, but his friend only replied:
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
John had texted him two times in the last two months. Once to know how he was doing. Sherlock had said good and John had replied good. The conversation had ended there.
The second time had been to say that his daughter was born and she was called Rachel. Sherlock answered:
“Congratulation. SH”
John didn’t propose he come and see the baby. He probably thought Sherlock was not interested which was true, if not for the reasons he assumed.
Of course he cared about the baby, she was part John after all, but he didn’t think he could stomach seeing the happy family together. He wanted him to be happy, but he just could not see it. Maybe someday he would be strong enough.
Then John had most likely been very busy and forgot completely about Sherlock until today. It was no surprise that his friend would have no time for him with a wife and a child. He had expected it.
It didn’t mean that it wasn’t still painful.
He was in the kitchen looking at decomposed flesh when John arrived twenty minutes later, just as he had said. Like he always did Gladstone got up from his spot at Sherlock feet and went to see who was coming. Sherlock had left the door unlocked for John.
The dog gave a little bark to warn Sherlock that someone he didn’t know had just arrived. Gladstone was very protective considering the fact that he was so small he could barely scare an adult cat.
John called his name and Sherlock could hear the confusion and surprise in his tone.
“Sherlock?”
“In here.” He replied, pretending to be absorbed by the decomposed flesh in front of him. It would not do to look too happy to see him.
When he finally raised his head he saw John standing in front of the kitchen and Gladstone looking at him suspiciously, waiting for Sherlock to tell him whether he could trust John or not. No doubts he would happily jump on John lap the moment Sherlock reassured him. The little traitor.
“Sherlock why is there a dog in your apartment?” John asked looking confused.
“He didn’t break in during the night if that’s what you were wondering.”
“Please tell me you’re not experimenting on him.”
Sherlock was annoyed. He got up from his chair and started making tea, setting the cup harshly on the counter.
“Is it so difficult to believe that I could simply have adopted a dog?”
John had the good sense to look a bit ashamed.
“I... No, I guess not. I just never thought... Sorry.”
Sherlock nodded. As annoyed as he was, he still understood. John had seen him experiment on so many things in the years it was not that big of a leap to make.
“Tea?” Sherlock offered.
“Yeah, Thank you.”
They were silent for a moment and Sherlock noticed that Gladstone was now sniffing at John curiously. John offered him his hand to smell and Gladstone looked at Sherlock like he was waiting for permission.
“Go ahead. He is not going to eat you.” Sherlock said, pretending to be annoyed and making John chuckle.
Gladstone must have understood because he went ahead nuzzling John's hand. Soon he was licking him and the man looked back at Sherlock with a happy smile. Sherlock could not help smiling too.
Gladstone finally left John and went to lie on Sherlock chair in the living room. Without John chair there he could easily observe what was happening in the kitchen.
“So how have you been?” John asked after finally taking his coat off.
“Fine.”
He didn’t know what else he could say. He had been doing fine after all. He had not started taking drugs again. He had not been tortured or almost killed. He had been fine.
John looked a little tense.
“Good. I’m sorry we didn’t talk more. It was just so busy with work, Mary and the baby. I wanted to call, but...”
Sherlock cut his justification short. He didn’t want to hear it. He knew.
“I understand John. There is no need to explain.”
John only nodded. The short silence felt uncomfortable. It didn’t use to be.
“How are Mary and the baby?” he asked because he knew he was expected to at some point.
John smiled.
“They are good. Mary is a bit tired, but it was to be expected and Rachel is... She is great.”
His face changed completely when he mentioned his daughter. It lighted up.
Sherlock remembered it used to do that when he talked about him.
The tea finally ready Sherlock gave John his cup and brought his in the living room where he took Gladstone from his seat and sat in his place, putting the dog on his lap.
As there was no chair for him anymore John went to sit on the sofa with his tea. Thankfully, he didn’t mention Sherlock moving his chair this time.
“So when did you get the dog?”
“Last month.”
“How did you find him?”
“Billy Wiggins found him in the street. He could not afford to take care of him so I offered.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“I did not take him to be nice.” Sherlock sneered.
John was amused.
“Yeah? Why did you take him then?” he asked.
Sherlock realized that he had shot himself in the foot. He thought carefully about his answer.
“You don’t live here anymore. I had the place.”
“Are you saying you replaced me with a dog?” John teased.
“Don’t be stupid John. Just because you replaced me with Mary doesn’t mean I’m doing the same with a dog.”
John face fell. Maybe he should not have said that.
“I didn’t... I did not replace you with Mary.”
“Really? What would you call it then?” Sherlock replied, unable to stop himself.
John tone was confident and harsh.
“I would call it getting married.”
Sherlock made a small huff and focussed his attention on Gladstone, ignoring John. He scratched him behind the ear, making him close his eyes in contentment.
Sherlock knew he was being unfair. He was the one who had pushed John to go back to Mary after all, but if John was going to be an idiot and suggest that he had replaced him with a dog he saw no reason why he could not say what he thought.
He was also still very much heartbroken and it was a lot easier to be bitter and cold than to show his true feelings.
John gave up on the subject sensing that he would not win this one. He sighed and moved his hand to his face, calming himself.
“So what’s his name then?”
The question sounded a bit forced, but at least it was a change of subject. A change he would have loved a lot more had he not named the dog based on John preference.
“Gladstone.” He told so low it sounded like a whisper.
“What did you say?”
“Gladstone” he repeated a bit louder looking at the dog. He did not dare to look up yet.
John was speechless for a long thirty second.
“That’s... It’s what I always said I would name my dog if I had one.”
Sherlock could deny it. He could pretend it was a coincidence, but really what were the chances? John was not an idiot. Or not that much of an idiot anyway.
“I know.” He admitted softly.
He took a chance and looked up to see the expression on John face. There was a mix of sadness and affection.
“You remembered.”
Sherlock simply nodded.
John cleared his throat loudly, trying to hide the emotions that had taken a hold of him.
“Well, he does look like a Gladstone.”
“Yes” Sherlock said with a small smile.
“Can I pet him?”
“If you want.”
John got up and half sat on his heels on the ground in front of Sherlock chair. He stroked Gladstone gently. Sherlock heart slowly started to beat faster. John was very close. Too close for comfort. His mouth felt dry.
Gladstone felt his body tense up and looked at him curiously.
“He seems to like you very much.” John said, finally raising his eyes from the dog.
“God knows why” Sherlock huffed trying to sound calmer than he was.
John gave a little laugh, but he protested.
“Don’t say that. I’m sure you’re great with him.”
Sherlock made a vague sound, but he didn’t deny it. John got up and sat on the corner of the small table, still petting Gladstone distractedly.
“When Rachel is a bit older maybe they can play together.”
Sherlock body became even tenser. He didn’t think that was possible. John had a baby now. He had an entire life away from him. He should not forget that.
“Maybe.” Was the best he was capable of replying.
The silence lasted two minutes this time. Sherlock again was the one to break it.
“You remember I told you I didn’t have a case, right?”
John frowned slightly.
“Yes.”
Sherlock nodded. He just wanted to make sure John was not staying in the hope Sherlock had been lying. He found himself wondering why John was staying if he knew Sherlock didn’t have a case for him.
“Do you want to take the dog for a walk?” John asked.
He sounded unsure. Sherlock was confused.
“Together?”
John gave a nervous laugh.
“Yes, of course together.”
Sherlock was not sure why there was an of course there.
He was very tempted to say no. All right, slightly tempted. However, if there was something Sherlock did not have the power to do it was say no to time with John. He just couldn’t. John wanted to spend time with him. Him. He was not there for a case or for his usual adrenaline rush.
“All right.”
He got up, deposing Gladstone on the floor as he took his coat and got ready. The dog’s lead on, he went out without another word, not wanting to give John any chance to change his mind.
It was a nice day outside. They walked to the park while John tried to make small talk. Sherlock didn’t help him very much and he finally gave up and settled for silence. At the park John picked up a branch and took Gladstone off his lead (with Sherlock permission). He started to throw the branch for the dog to bring back. As far as puppies went Gladstone was pretty up there in the adorable scale and John could not help, but laugh at the little animal running toward him enthusiastically with a branch longer than he was in his mouth.
Sherlock caught himself looking at John more often than he probably should have. It was the first time he saw John really laughing in a long time. John laughing was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. John caught him looking at him and he looked at him curiously before grinning happily.
“Your turn!” He said at some point giving the branch to Sherlock.
Sherlock threw the branch so far that even Gladstone gave him a look that looked a lot like he was thinking “Really? You do realize my legs are only 15 centimeters right?”
As John broke into laugher at the puppy reaction he put a hand on Sherlock shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Objectively it was nothing, but Sherlock still felt his heart beat a bit faster. John had been very careful about touching him since his wedding for some reason. It was nice to have him touch him so casually again.
On the way back Sherlock told John all about a boring case he had solved a month ago. John didn’t seem to think it was boring. It was the best day Sherlock had had in two months.
When they arrived home however the spell was broken. As Sherlock took his coat off John stayed standing close to the door, looking uncomfortable.
“Well...I have to go. Mary will be waiting.”
Sherlock turned around and looked at John. He felt like he had just been punched in the chest. He swallowed and hid it the best he could. He nodded.
“It was nice seeing you.” John said.
Sherlock could not say it back. First because the word nice did not describe at all how it felt to see John Watson. Second, because it meant accepting that they were merely friends who saw each other from time to time and said “It was nice seeing you.” before going back to their respective lives.
Sherlock made a sound that could be interpreted however John wished it, nodded again and turned his back to John. He pretended to be busy searching for something on his desk. He heard John stalling in place for a bit before finally saying “Right. I will text you later.” And leaving.
Sherlock did not expect John to follow through on that promise.
When he fell asleep in bed with Gladstone that night, Sherlock swore he could still smell John on the puppy’s fur. He buried his nose against Gladstone neck and the dog gave him a strange look, not used to his master touching him that way. Maybe sensing that Sherlock needed him he didn’t move and licked Sherlock jaw, the only place where he could reach. Sherlock laughed sadly against him. He definitely didn’t feel tears fall from his eyes onto the dog’s fur.
***
Six months later after John and Sherlock had both admitted their feeling to each other, after John had left Mary and after John and Rachel had moved in with him, Sherlock didn’t need to sleep with Gladstone anymore. Instead, he slept with John; his face buried against John’s neck, and was amazed every night by how lucky he was. Gladstone for his part had found himself a new favorite person and could always be found asleep close to Rachel at night.