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Walking through the front door Sherlock was almost compelled to shout ‘honey I’m home.’ He’d had a good day at Bart’s and Molly had allowed him to take several vials of contaminated blood home with him. Then he looked down at the floor and saw the blood drops. Sherlock sniffed the air, assessing the situation. The blood was fresh. It continued up the stairs, and was smeared on the banister. There were signs of a struggle, the carpet on the stairs was rucked up slightly. He picked up the only weapon he could find, Mrs Hudson’s golfing umbrella. Sherlock walked up slowly, cautious that any move could lead to disaster.
The first thing he saw was John’s beige cable knit jumper covered in blood on the floor. He felt his heart quicken. John, he thought feeling sick. Gladstone waddled over to the jumper and gave it a sniff. Seeing his uncle Sherlock he wagged his tail furiously. Sherlock put his finger to his lips. Gladstone assumed the play position. Sherlock’s eyes widened as the puppy came hurtling toward him.
Fortunately Gladstone’s attack on his uncle Sherlock hadn’t had any consequences. The flat was still quiet. The puppy was now firmly tucked under Sherlock’s arm. Sherlock held the umbrella with his free arm, followed the blood trail to the bathroom, and slowly opened the door.
“Derlock, cad due pud dome food down for Glad, I’m aving a dose bleed.” John was sat on the toilet seat, his fingers firmly pressed on the end of his nose with his head down.
“Oh.” Sherlock said taking a breath. “Did something happen, I thought something happened.” Sherlock could feel himself trembling as he put Gladstone down on the floor.
“No Derlock. Are due ogay?” John tilted his head slightly to look Sherlock in the eye. Sherlock let out the breath didn’t know he’s been holding and turned away. John mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a curse as Sherlock made his way into the kitchen. He put some food down for Gladstone and patted him on the head. Gladstone looked at the food then back to his uncle Sherlock.
Sherlock was sat in on the sofa still trembling, a bundle of Gladstone on his lap when John made an appearance. Tissue still in his hand he made his way over to Sherlock.
“Gladstone hasn’t touched his food.” John said sitting down. Sherlock remained silent. “Are you ok Sherlock?” John shuffled up next to him, Sherlock dropped his head. “Sherlock you need to tell me what’s going on.”
“I was scared.” Sherlock whispered. “I thought..” John brought Sherlock’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Maybe we should stop.” Sherlock waved his hand around. “This.”
“Do you love me Sherlock?” John asked still holding Sherlock’s hand.
“Yes.” Sherlock hissed through his teeth.
“Then it wouldn’t matter where I went. You’d still feel the same.” A tear escaped from Sherlock’s eye. “I feel the same way about you, you know.” Sherlock sniffed and turned to face John. “Every time you take another stupid risk. But you wouldn’t be the person I fell in love with if you didn’t.” John smiled the corner of Sherlock’s mouth turned up. John pulled Sherlock’s arm around him. “Being here in your arms is the safest place I know.” Sherlock kissed the top of John’s head.
“I’m sorry.” Sherlock sniffed.
“Besides who would have custody of Gladstone.” John said grinning. Sherlock raised an eyebrow amused at the thought.