"So He Shall Remember"

A Bagginshield/Thilbo One-Shot

It's not been easy. Moving on after Sherlock. Surrounded as he was for months with the speculations and the article upon article in the paper and the constant mothering from Mrs. Hudson, John is surprised that he was ever left alone long enough to heal. Some days are easier. Most are harder. But he's found it's the small things that go the longest in helping him to keep the depression at bay.

Of late, he's taken up going to the cafe downstairs, Speedy's, every Saturday afternoon. He likes to watch the people. And he can't help himself as he tries to deduce things about them. Things that only Sherlock would ever be able to notice. He'll never be as good as Sherlock. No one could ever recreate that genius. But figuring out the lives of those around him rather than observing the obvious gap in his own keeps him sane.

Through it all, there is one stranger who remains an enigma. He first notices him on his third Saturday in a row. He orders a coffee. Black. No sugar. No cream. No pastries on the side. Just coffee. He doesn't meet anyone there. Just sits at the same table in the corner, drinks his coffee, pays, and leaves without a word to anyone. John thinks there might be something familiar about him. He's tall. With dark hair and the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen on any man. There's something sad about him. Sad and ancient and tragically compelling. And he knows he has a history with tall, dark-haired, compelling man but he can't help himself somehow. There's just something there. Something he can't quite put his finger on and no matter how sure he is that he's never seen him before in his life, it's like he knows him.

So the months pass. Autumn turns to Winter turns to Spring. Twenty-eight Saturdays have passed and still John hasn't manned up and approached the stranger. He's scared to admit that the other man, who's name he thinks might start with a T, intimidates him. He's also scared to admit that he knows what will happen if he takes that leap. He doesn't want a broken heart again. He doesn't want to gain another friend only to lose them. Mrs. Hudson is the only link he has to the old days of getting caught in the crossfires of unknown assassins and finding heads in the fridge. He didn't just lose Sherlock all those months ago. He lost Molly too. And Lestrade. He's tired of losing things and he doesn't know how much more he can give before he breaks apart all over again.

Still, despite all of these things, he knows he has to talk to him eventually. Feels the surety of it in his heart. Just as he felt the rightness of agreeing to be Sherlock's flatmate. Just as he'd known that becoming an army doctor was the right path for him. His gut was telling him over and over again to take that plunge. Damn the consequences.

So when he approaches that table in the corner, he feels the swell of anxiety in his stomach. For the first time in a year and a half, he welcomes it.

"Hello," John says simply and when the other man looks up at him with those blue eyes of his, he remembers. Remembers another life, another adventure, in a completely different point in time. And he knows he's made the right decision.

"Hello, my old friend."

A/N: Alright so this wasn't as epically written as I thought it would be. But such is life. This is dedicated to my wifey, Lisette, because she made me ship bagginshield in the first place. Also because she's just awesome in general. I LOVE YOU BB!