Fic: Care Bear
John pulled out the toy from under Sherlock's bed. He'd been given free range to clear up the mess in the room after Sherlock had tripped over a pile of bricks from various construction sites and sprained his ankle. He brought it out to the living room, where Sherlock was sulking with his violin.
"Sherlock!" He called over the discordant notes. "What's this?"
Sherlock looked up, bored. "It's obviously a toy."
"It's a teddy bear." And it was soft, although it still felt quite unused. Despite the dust John suddenly had a desire to cuddle it, but resisted manfully.
"Of course."
"What was it doing in your room? Was it for a case?"
"... It's mine."
"What?" John was surprised. Sherlock didn't seem like the type to have had a teddy bear while growing up, and the image of a young pouting Sherlock lugging along a teddy during childhood experiments seemed a little ridiculous. Sherlock frowned at him.
"It's mine, as in it was given to me. Now go put it back where you found it!"
John ignored him. He had noticed a soft felt medallion around the teddy's neck. He flipped it over.
On the other side, someone had written in pencil the words:
"Happy 8th Birthday Sherlock! Love Mummy and Father"
John held out the teddy a little blankly.
"This was a birthday present from your parents?" Sherlock sighed.
"Do you always delight in stating the obvious?" He plucked at the strings of his violin. "Now put it away."
"I thought you'd want to look at it again. I mean, you did keep it."
"... It was the last gift my father gave to me before he died." John froze from where he was waving the toy in Sherlock's face.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't. Now you do." He hunched over further in the sofa, bow starting to shrill across the strings. "Go put it back."
John tiptoed out of the room, and back into Sherlock's. He sat the bear aside, and proceeded to, if not clean, then at least tidy up so that nothing else could be tripped over. Having Sherlock kept off his feet was taxing, particularly when there were cases to be solved. Sherlock was getting very frustrated that he couldn't go and pick the evidence out by himself. John couldn't wait until he was back on his feet; Donovan was starting to complain about playing messenger.
He picked up the bear and faced it squarely. "Now, what do I do about you?"
The bear stared back.
***
When Sherlock came back into his room a few days later, the first thing he noticed was the teddy bear, arms outstretched, on the center of his bed. It had been washed and dusted thoroughly. There was a note beneath it.
[Sherlock, teddies are for hugging, not storage. So make good use of it!]
Sherlock put down the note, then flopped onto his bed. The teddy bounced up a bit. He reached down to steady it, then picked it up.
Maybe he could try some of that cuddling.
--- END.
BTW, the teddy's name is 'Victor'. I also actually own a teddy like this, albeit with a different name. :)