The classroom was just barely alive, the murmurings of the few students who were actually awake carried through the room like a soft breeze. It was far too early in John's opinion, to be up at all. It was the first day after winter break, and it was difficult to readjust to school hours. John was slouching in his chair, counting down the minutes until study hall where he could actually catch an extra hour of sleep when he walked in.
The ambient noises in the room trickled to a halt as everyone turned to stare at the newcomer. He was tall, languid and stood straight-backed with confidence. He had a frock of curly ink-black hair that tickled his prominent cheekbones. His skin was incredibly pale save for the pink tinge on his nose and cheekbones. And then his eyes. John only caught a glimpse of them before the stranger took the seat in the far back corner next to the window, but they made a significant impression in John's mind. They were ice. They were ice with depths black pinpricks in their center. The muttering started up once again, most likely to discuss the newcomer. John really couldn't help himself.
"Hey… Robert." John leaned over to the kid sitting in front of him. "Rob… who's the new guy?"
"I don't know, mate." Robert shrugged. "He's just a guy." John leaned back and glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the new kid. The twinge on his cheeks was draining but it didn't make him any less pale. He stared out of the window with seeming intent. The tips of his fingers were pressed together right under his nose as though he were deep in concentration. He made a sudden movement and locked eyes with John momentarily. John was shocked but he didn't break eye contact immediately. The other boy broke the eye contact to watch as a small group of girls approached him.
"Hello!" Molly was blushing furiously. "I'm Molly Hooper. You must be new here."
The boy pursed his lips as though to bite back a snide comment. "It appears I am. Sherlock Holmes."
"Are you posh or something?" Sally scoffed, her arms crossed over her chest.
He looked over her quickly, as though he were processing everything about her appearance. He paused before replying.
"Avid jogger, two dogs, four puppies. Your mother is a smoker and you wish she would stop and your father works entirely too much for him to notice that it bothers you. Older sister or cousin, someone you look up to and care about as though she were your mother. But it looks like she's been gone for more than a few months now so you've been… letting your frustrations out by seeing various boys around school." Sally's face was stricken with horror, Molly's eyes wide in shock. Everyone had hushed and listened to him. "You present yourself as single because you're sleeping with someone who's in a relationship. You might want to break it off, he's not going to choose you over her." He turned away from her and stared again out the window. Sally struggled to say something, but couldn't seem to get her jaw to work. John found that he was the only one in the classroom to have a bit of a smile on his shocked face. Everyone looked affronted. If what Sherlock said was true, then he was a complete genius. How could someone be offended by intellect?
"What are you some sort stalker pervert?" She shrieked. "How the bloody hell could you know all of that?"
"I observed." Sherlock murmured, his mind a thousand thoughts ahead and a million miles away.
"You're a freak!" She snarled. "No one should know that much about a person just by looking at them!"
"It's almost literally written all over you." He brushed off. "I don't know your name. I'll delete the information almost immediately, if that's of any consolation."
She snorted in disgust and shook her head, walking away.
That morning really set the tone for what was to come of Sherlock. He was either known as Freak or that Holmes kid. He was given a wide berth while walking through the halls and while in the library. No one wanted to get too close to him, for fear he may try and slip inside their heads and spill out its contents. Except, of course. John.
John had what he called "situational friends". Friends he would talk to during that class period. People who would laugh mildly at a joke he made at lunch once or twice. People liked John Watson, but they didn't really want to be close friends with him. And John was okay with that because the feeling in general was mutual. He'd never wanted to seek out someone and try to become their friend. Or if he had, it had been so long ago and with such disastrous results that he repressed the memory and told himself subconsciously that it was better to stay in his corner and let others come to him. Somehow, John thought that the latter was more likely. But John couldn't ignore Sherlock, as much as he tried. Sherlock intrigued John, with almost everything he did. Though he did seem irritating sometimes, John still wanted to reach out and speak to Sherlock. At least once. To see if the man was capable of having friends. And maybe John wanted to see if he was capable of truly being one.
Hello, everyone! Alright, this is a pretty big story that I've been working on for some time. Yes, it is a High School AU for a while, but I really enjoyed writing it and I'm going to try and actually finish this one!
Sherlock has been somewhat of an emotional ride for me, and I just wanted to commemorate that by posting a really really really really long fanfiction (as it stands right now, it's 25,000 words ahhh)
by the time this whole fic comes out Reichenbach will be out and I'll be sobbing endlessly through tears
oh right
i mean what oh RIGHT
STORY
anyway I hope you enjoy!