John Watson, from the age of twelve, knew he was going to be in the military.

Sherlock Holmes only had the idea six weeks ago.

With his stature, his background, the studies he had done, John looked like he fit the army mold perfectly. He was muscular and talented and brilliant, not to mention hilarious and friendly to the other men and women around him.

Sherlock looked a bit more out of place.

He was thin and lean, with a cold disposition and a sort of frightened look in his eyes. His hands gripped his luggage until his knuckles were white, his eyes constantly darting around the terminal.

The group of people standing around John all laughed at the words that came out of his mouth. He seemed completely comfortable in this position, his hands hung loosely on his backpack, his smile easy. His uniform fit him like a glove.

Sherlock opted to stand off to the side, quiet, not speaking a word. The only time he ever even acknowledged his comrades was when they had first entered the terminal.

Someone clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, kid, don't look so nervous."

Sherlock looked up to meet the eyes of a man shorter than he, but built much stronger. His eyes were a kind gray, his smile simple. Sherlock scowled.

"I'm not nervous."

The man laughed, but as Sherlock scrutinized him, he found that he was a boy as well, no older than himself. He held out his hand.

"Name's John Watson. Gonna be a doctor." he grinned.

Sherlock took his hand unsurely. "Sherlock Holmes - " he held his tongue, deciding not to mention he was the one training under him.

Sherlock aspired to be a doctor, work with medicine. He never aspired to be in the army. However, because of his lack of medical education and late start to any education whatsoever, his father promptly signed him up to work under the vaunted John Watson. So now, looking at this boy, his gaze was cold, and he walked away without so much as a nod.

A mechanical voice piped over the speakers above them, telling the group it was time to load their baggage and be on their way. Sherlock gently loaded the polished case and worn-out bag into the cargo bay before boarding onto the small plane.

He found himself in a seat alone by the window. The closest person to him was a woman that looked about 35, had children, was trying to pay the bills. She smiled at Sherlock with a reassuring glint in her eyes, but they could each tell what emotion was boiling in their veins.

Apprehension.

A/N

Hello! So, hopefully you'll enjoy this AU of Johnlock I've got going here. I'm also writing this little fic over on Wattpad, if you'd rather read it there. Username is fandom_creds.

Shameless self-promotion.

Anyway, if you enjoy this chapter (which is a pretty crap chapter tbh) then please stick around for more updates and really horrible author's notes!

Thanks loves ~