Man's Best Friend

"Redbeard?"

Sherlock peered around the corner, dropping his backpack onto the floor with a heavy thunk. No homework, but lots of reading. Sherlock wanted to learn more, learn everything; the children in his school were too slow.

"Redbeard, boy," he called, peering around the kitchen doorway.

Redbeard had been sick, for over a week now, yeah, Sherlock knew that. But Mum and Dad had taken him to the vet today, so that meant he would be better. The veterinarian made everything better. He always helped Red when he was sick before; now would be no different.

But Redbeard wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Redbeard?"

Sherlock turned into the sitting room, looking for the familiar houndstooth patterned dog bed that lay in front of the fireplace. It was missing.

"Redbeard..."

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock spun around, looking up at his mum. "Did Redbeard stay with the vet again?"

She smiled faintly. "Honey..."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose at the tone and the word. "What's going on?" he demanded, looking around for any of Redbeard's toys. They were all missing.

"Sherlock, love, sit down."

"What's with the pet names? What did you do? Where's Redbeard?" Sherlock retorted, studiously not sitting down.

She sighed. "Well, you know how Redbeard's been sick-"

"Yes."

"Well, your father took him to the vet today. Sherlock, we've had Redbeard ever since you were a little boy, and he wasn't a puppy when we got him."

"So?"

"He was hurting, Sherlock."

"The vet was supposed to help him, though. That was the point," Sherlock retorted stubbornly. "So... where is he?"

His mum sighed again. "We decided not to bring him home, love. It was the easier thing to do, putting him down... He was sick and in pain."

Sherlock stared up at her defiantly. "What do you mean 'not bring him home'? Are we going to get him tomorrow? The vet can fix him, right?"

"No, Sherlock... He's gone."

Sherlock continued to stare at her for a moment. "... You have to bring him back!"

"We can't, Sherlock. But we can get a new dog, a new puppy, even. You can pick it out, name it and everything."

"I don't want a new dog; I want Redbeard!" Sherlock retorted, turning on his heel and striding from the room.

He didn't understand. They just got rid of Redbeard because he was old? Well, their mum and dad was old but they were still there! Why did it have to be Redbeard? Redbeard was his only friend! He always turned to him when he was having a bad day!

"Oh, I see they've told you," Mycroft said as Sherlock strode down the hallway to his room.

He slowed to a stop and looked at Mycroft. "... Did you know about this before now?" he asked critically.

Mycroft shrugged. "I had suspicions."

"It's not fair," Sherlock retorted. "She said I could get a new dog but I don't want a new dog! I don't know why they couldn't just bring him back!"

Mycroft blinked slowly, head tilting slightly. "Well, I thought it fairly obvious why not."

"Why?" Sherlock demanded.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows in that ever knowing look that Sherlock loathed.

"Just tell me, Mycroft!" Sherlock demanded.

"Sherlock, I don't know how Mother phrased it to you, but Redbeard's not coming back because he's dead."

Sherlock pulled up short. "... Dead?"

Mycroft's superior look didn't fade. "What did you think she meant by 'gone', assuming she mentioned that bit?"

Sherlock stayed silent. Mycroft would just make him feel stupid and he was still trying to process the fact that Redbeard, his dog, his best friend, was dead.

"Oh, Sherlock," Mycroft said condescendingly. "Did you think he had gone off to a farm somewhere? How could you be so naïve?"

Sherlock turned away abruptly as tears welled in his eyes. He strode back to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, throwing himself onto his bed.

He studiously didn't leave the room the rest of the night, with exception of dashing to the loo when he was sure no one was around to try and talk to him. Instead, he sat on his bed and stared at the wall and wondered, idly, if this was a norm.

Loving things, losing them. If so, he hated it.

He was never going to 'love' something again. It hurt too much and he never wanted to experience this heartbreak ever again.

Oh, Redbeard... Poor Sherlock. I had hoped we learned what Redbeard was, but I never imagined a dog. My heart just about broke.

I do not own Sherlock. Thank you!