The End of John Watson, Or Is It?

A/N: Hola everyone! Haven't updated in awhile because I've had no inspiration. But when I was on Tumblr someone wanted a Sherlock fanfic about John needing braces, anything goes. So here's the story. I have no experience with getting braces, and know absolutely nothing about British schools so all mistakes are mine. I wrote this really fast, it's not edited or researched. But I think it's cute, it satisfies my feels for the need for happy Sherlock stories after Season 2 :O

Disclaimer: HA! I could never be so smart as to write the actual show :P


That was it. His life was over. Gone. Done before it was even beginning.

18-year-old John Watson was getting braces.

Sitting in the so-yellow-it-was-burning-his-eyes office John hunched his shoulders to avoid looking at all the children clutching their mother's skirts who were openly staring at him. Five minutes earlier he had made the mistake of raising his eyes to meet those of the unfortunate child across from him. His eyes had met the site of a mouth of teeth that looked liked crooked cobblestone gnawing on a giant multicolored wad of gum. He had shuddered violently, drawing the attention of the other misfit children, before returning his eyes quickly to the ground.

This is it. John thought, hunching further. This is the beginning of the end of my life. What person gets braces at EIGHTEEN! I'm such a freak, and now everyone at school is gonna know it too. And Sherlock... John blanched. Vaguely, he could hear a child ask his mother why the strange man in the corner now looked like a zombie, but his thoughts were now consumed by what his friends would think of him. Would they exile them from their already unpopular group because of the hideous fixtures that were about to be attatched to his face? Or would there be that awkward silence of 'oh-god-he-looks-so-weird-but-I-don't-want-to-be-the-one-to-point-it-out'?

"John Watson? You can come in now." The lady that was tall enough, even without her heels, beckoned to him. John just stared, a deer in the headlights of his impending doom.

Taking a deep breath, he stood, his posture becoming military straight as he marched behind the woman to enter the danger zone.


~TIME SKIP, NEXT DAY AT SCHOOL~

Now, it must be understood, John wasn't a coward. A military brat, whose father, and father before him, and father before him were, wasn't used to feeling such fear. Just because he was ducking behind corners, rushing through the crowd to avoid anyone he knew, and keeping his mouth firmly closed didn't mean he was a coward. He was just... cautious. Yes, that was it; he just didn't want to make others uncomfortable.

Peeking around a corner, John scanned the morning crowd. Maybe if I keep my head down and run fast enough I can avoid-

"John, what on earth are you doing?" A familiar voice drawled lazily right beside his ear.

John spun around so fast that the bag hanging off his shoulder smacked squarely into one Sherlock Holmes, making him stagger back.

"Really, John?" Sherlock said, smoothing his blue scarf. "Has the early time made your brain disconnect from your body to make you more klutzy than your usual self?"

John just nodded. Don't do it, don't do it, please, please, please...

An imperious sigh. Then a sleek eyebrow was raised. Don't- "Did something happen to you?" –dammit. This is karma for not helping my sister out last week, isn't it? John thought miserably.

For Sherlock was known throughout the entire school for his powers of deduction. And also for his repelling personality. Meek students who wished to avoid him would often dart into random classrooms to avoid the tall, sharp tongued teen.

But he had a 'soft spot', if it could be called that, for one John Watson. So instead of immediately pointing out the obvious Sherlock decided to try to be... kind. Ugh, this is sooooo tedious. He opened his mouth, intending to ignore the little voice telling him to be kind; but John was looking at him with the sadness of a puppy abandoned in the rain, and Sherlock did have a thing for baby animals. So, he swallowed his cutting remarks and tried to think of something... encouraging to say.

John looked on in fascination as he watched his best friends face morphed into a grimace and red crawl up his neck. What the devil is he doing? It looks like his just sucked on an extra sour lemon.

Sherlock cleared his throat, avoiding John's curious gaze. "John..." Sherlock tried to ignore the blush that had now made it to his cheeks and just decided to get this embarrassing talk out as fast as possible. "Just because something about your physical appearance changes that may make you less aesthetically appealing doesn't mean that the chemical in people's brains that-" Seeing John's utterly bewildered look, Sherlock sighed. "For god's sake, John you really need to read those human behaviour books I lent you. But since you have helped me multiple times I will repay this debt by putting this in a way that your common idiotic, Neanderthal brain can understand." Sherlock took a deep breath, then spat out "yourfriendswillstillbeyourfr iendseventhoughyoulooklesspl easingtothecommonhuman..."

John stared, dumbfounded. Had Sherlock just... just given him a pep talk? Sure, John couldn't really decipher what was said at the end, but he's almost sure that Sherlock had just managed to cheer him up. Relief seeped into his muscles, relaxing them. I really am an idiot, thinking I'd be abandoned simply because I get braces late in life. John mentally chuckled.

A soft smile graced his lips as he gazed upon his thoroughly embarrassed friend whose gaze was fixated on the wall. John reached out and clapped Sherlock on the shoulder, startling him.

"You are a very good friend. Thank you for cheering me up." John grinned, displaying his colored braces. Sherlock's eyes flittered over the look of pure happiness radiating from Johns face.

Several students walking by were blinded by its sheer power and the sudden skyrocketing of bromance feels, thus causing several accidents in the halls; making papers take wing, like abnormal petals, that surrounded the two friends whose eyes were still locked.

Sherlock ignored the commotion and turned away, finally breaking eye contact, muttering "well, it's not like I did it for you or anything. It's just scientifically proven that depression deteriorates the body, and who else is going to help me when..."

John just followed behind his muttering friend, still smiling and displaying his once-embarrassing braces. His worries no longer weighing down his body.

His braces were noticed, and a few winces of sympathy were made, but no one dared to comment on John's new accessory. After all, the incurring the wrath of Sherlock Holmes was like inviting death to take you quietly in the night. Thus, throughout the day John was happily oblivious to the aura of rage around Sherlock, and left for home reassured that his life was indeed just beginning.


A/N: Sooooooo... what do y'all think? Leave a review, or don't; I can't really force you too, but it would be nice and make my day if you did :D If anyone wants to follow me on Tumblr you can find me at: RawrImmaToaster. I'm fairly new to it but I post a whole bunch of stuff and take requests. Ciao and thanx for reading XD