Pretty major spoilers for Sherlock s3x02 and x03

[clever_boy]

I was a Good Dog.

I had a soft Coat and a cold Nose. My Tail was long and my Paws were steady. I almost never had Fleas. I almost always ate from my own Dish and not People Food at the Table.

I was a Clever Dog. I knew many Tricks. I could Sit Up and Beg and Come. I knew that Bang means fall down and show my Belly because it will get rubbed. I knew how to Point and how to find Dead Things and Rabbit Holes.

I had Good Humans. They all loved me. Mummy loved me, and Dad, and Mycroft and all the others. But the best was my Master. That is what a Master is for: to be loved best of all by a Dog.

We were Pups together. Master was very, very Clever. He knew more Tricks than I could ever know. Still I protected him. I showed my Teeth to Boys who barked at him too loud. I made sure he did not sleep alone. When he was sad I cleaned the salt off his face. We had Adventures. He gave me bits of Sausage. And he loved me, even when Mummy said I was a Bad Dog.

We got older together. Except he got stronger, and began to become a Man, and I got Sick. It was hard to eat. My Legs were stiff. I couldn't go on Adventures anymore. I had to eat medicine, but sometimes it didn't help. After a while I couldn't even eat that anymore.

Dad said I had to be Put Down.

Master held me, and he was so sad, so much sadder than he had ever been. I tried to clean the salt off his face but it just kept coming. Then there was a sting, and I fell asleep.

I live in a Palace now. I have my own Room. It smells good and I am strong enough to run, and I remember all my Tricks. Master is nearby, always, though I do not see him. I know he keeps me here. He keeps other things, too. Facts and Numbers and Tricks and things I don't understand.

(Deep down, far far below me, he keeps a Man who smells like Fear and Blood.)

He doesn't visit me often. But I'm never sad. I know we will see each other. He comes to me when he is hurt, and sometimes when he sleeps, and I am always here. I will never leave him. This is the first Duty of all Dogs, which we are born knowing and which we hold most dear even when our Bodies are only Bones. We cannot talk to our Humans, but the Clever ones will figure it out, and though Master is very busy he is very, very Clever. He will figure it out.

A Good Dog does not die.

A Good Dog Stays.

Comments

Nice! And damn it, this is going to make ME cry :#

[highfunctioning_sociopath]

[Sherlock feels so safe. The first time in awhile.]

Thank you, Redbeard. You're a good boy.

[But Sherlock's voice is soft. Redbeard deserves better than to face Moriarty. Sherlock doesn't say that, because he also knows that Redbeard loves to protect him and feel useful.]

[Sherlock's thoughts become scattered like wisps of smoke as he drifts to sleep.]