Why isn’t he eating anything?
Sherlock looked at the bowl of food in front of him. His expression confused.
Redbeard was lying like a shapeless pillow in the floor. Breathing softly. Whining a little in his throat. Refusing the food or water.
This was not new. This was going like for a month now. His constant companion, his partner in crime, the most lively dog in the world wasn’t so lively anymore.
And Sherlock was so helpless.
Mummy just smiled every time. Kind of a painful smile. And took a deep breath.
“He is old now Billy. He is not young anymore. He doesn’t have the energy he used to have in his youth.” Mummy told him every time, softly stroking the hair from his forehead away.
Sherlock wasn’t close with his dad.
That left Mycroft.
“Mycee, look at me.” Sherlock demanded tugging at his elder brother’s shirt. Who was clearly disturbed at this intrusion of his study time.
“What is it?” My croft looked up from the book, irritated by his little brother’s behavior.
“What is wrong with Redbeard?”
Mycroft looked at his baby brother from a moment. The Little pale face, tousled hair, Eyes blue as the ocean. There were twigs stuck in his hair.
Mycroft felt a rush of warmth in his chest. He softly placed his hand on Sherlock’s hair. Brushing the leaves away.
“Didn’t mummy tell you?” Mycroft’s voice was soft.
“She told me he is old. But Redbeard is as old as me Mycee. I am not sick like him.” Sherlock puffed his lips.
“Dogs age faster than people Sherlock. He is very old now.”
“Will he be young again?” Sherlock eyes glinted in hope.
“No baby brother. Once youth is lost, never comes back. Like everything else.” Mycroft sighed.
Sherlock left the study with a disappointed face, dragging his stuffed bee behind him.
And one afternoon, after coming home from school, Sherlock couldn’t find Redbeard anywhere in the house.
“Where is he mummy? Did someone take him to stroll? You never let me take him to stroll.”
Martha Holmes tried very hard to not cry.
“He is somewhere else Billy. Somewhere better. He is at peace now. Didn’t you see how sick was he? He is not sick anymore.”
“But I wanna see him mummy.” Sherlock’s voice broke. His vision almost blurry with the tears forming.
“I am so sorry Billy.” A single streak of tear fell down from Martha’s eyes. “You.. can’t.. I am sorry baby.. I am very sorry.”
“He is dead. Right mummy? He is dead?” Sherlock’s voice choked. Tears flooding from is eyes.
“My poor child.” Violet reached for Sherlock with a trembling hand.
Sherlock sprang like a bow. Shoving his mother’s hand away.
His face was red and swelled . lips puffy. His expression like that of a wounded deer.
“I didn’t even say goodbye to him” Sherlock delivered with a choked voice.
Ran from mummy, ran from daddy, ran from Mycee. Ran from everything.
He heard the whole house running behind him.
“Sherlock stop !! “ Mycroft was yelling.
He did stop.
Under the Cherry tree.
The tree was blossoming.
Under it, laid little wooden toys. Redbeard’s.
A curving on the tree. Beware of pirates.
“Goodbye pirate Redbeard.”
Sherlock sniffed and burst into tears. His legs gave away and he knelt on the earth. Sobbing uncontrollably.
Mycroft found him after some minutes. Curled under the tree. Weeping softly.
He didn’t say a word. Just leaned forward and lifted his little brother on his arms. Sherlock didn’t protest.
Slowly Mycroft headed towards the house. His shirt was getting wet with the constant tears of Sherlock. He just sighed and patted his brother softly.
“Caring is not an advantage Sherlock.”
Sherlock lost his Redbeard.
He still had mummy, daddy,Mycee.
But little Sherlock was so alone.