"John, John, get up," Sherlock called as he shook him by the shoulders. John stirred at the familiar voice but frowned as he forced his eyes open. There in the darkness of his room stood a raven-haired boy with wide steely-blue eyes that lit up the night. After a moment of recognition, he loudly groaned and turned his back on the intruder.
"Sherlock, could you please not do this?" John whined as he pulled up the covers
"Do what? Wake you? Come now, John, sleep is so boring. Besides we have much more exciting things to attend to," he chirped as he practically danced around the room.
"I mean will you please stop breaking into my house!" John yelled as he uncovered himself, revealing an adorable messy blond mop of hair. Yet after his sudden outburst, he quickly clasped a hand over his mouth, hoping not to wake his family. In a hushed voice, he continued.
"Really, Sherlock, how do you think Mum or Harry will react, seeing you here at this time of night?"
"Oh relax. I didn't bother with the halls this time, much too noisy," Sherlock casually replied as he stretched his arms above his head.
"Wait what? Then how did you…?"
"You forgot to lock your window again," Sherlock replied, sounding as if he were stating the most obvious conclusion. John straightened himself in bed and glared at a certain someone from across the room, who apparently paid no mind as he roamed mindlessly through John's belongings for the millionth time. John was beyond Sherlock's tamperings, and with a sigh of utter defeat simply tossed aside the sheets of his bed and looked for something somewhat clean to dress in until Sherlock's mind was back to him.
"So what is this about?" John said as he bent to tie his shoelaces.
"Oh, good, you're dressed!" Sherlock said as he quickly made his way to the open window.
"Wait, Sherlock! Just where are we headed?" John asked as he looked up from his shoes but he noticed in moments that he had been talking to an empty bedroom.
"Not again" he mumbled as he flung himself out the first-floor window and onto the dewy grass. As he ran down the silent street, he could feel his nerves tense at the thought of it all. Here he was, chasing after some odd fellow. For what? He wasn't even aware of the details just yet, but something told him that anything Sherlock needed him for was genuinely worth seeing, and yet he couldn't fight back the building bitterness he felt from the lack of sleep and unsympathetic friend. When he had finally caught up with him, he practically barked out his previous question the moment he fixed his gaze on the blue-eyed demon.
"Out," the oddity simply replied.
"Seriously, what could be so important that you felt it needed my attention in the middle of the night? Couldn't it wait?"
"No, that's why I'm here. Besides, it's not as if you were having pleasant dreams anyway."
"Oh? And just how do you know that?" For a moment John could've sworn he saw Sherlock's mouth twitch upward. Oh no. What have I done? he thought as he mentally prepared himself for the worst.
"Well, for starters, whenever you do dream, you always sleep on your back with 3 of your 4 limbs aimed in alternate directions, your left foot, which never seems to be covered, always twitches rhythmically while your right pinky taps lightly on your stomach as you softly mumble something incoherent." John stared silently as Sherlock explained his sleep patterns in one breath.
"What?" Sherlock asked, looking quite unamused by John's lack of praise. Noticing this immediately, John smirked.
"Nothing, I just never realized the great Sherlock Holmes took note while I slept," John replied as he squarely met his gaze.
"Well… I was… I was merely -" Sherlock mumbled, his overconfidence quickly deteriorating. John couldn't deny his amusement at seeing his friend so flustered at the simple reply. Sherlock was barely ever at a loss of words but there were always the oddest moments when John could swear he could see the hint of a blush arise.
"You don't have to explain. I know, I know. You probably just needed to legally observe the sleep patterns for another 'experiment' of yours. Am I wrong?"
"Not at all," He continued as he cleared his throat and collected himself.
"Back to business, Sherlock. Do you plan to tell me where we're headed? Or at least give me a clue as to why you're dragging me out of bed yet again?"
"One word: Adventure." Sherlock smirked, those prominent blue eyes shining.
"Excuse me?"
"Would you, John Watson, care to go on an adventure?"
"Right now?"
"Obviously"
"Is it dangerous?"
"Would I be here if it wasn't?"
"Alright, but if the police find us, you're taking the fall this time. I dare not mention the episode Mum had the last time the Scotland Yard brought me home," John said pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory flooded in. Sherlock's smile only seemed to grow.
"Really, John, it wasn't so bad. Besides, you're finally 13, almost a man! How long can you possibly fear that woman?"
"Until there's a reason not to," John countered, a dreadfully serious tone creeping in.
"And do you recall the last time I accompanied and was forced to sleep in a tree after being chased by rabid dogs?"
"True it was a bit unexpected, it was all in good fun."
"You're bonkers Sherlock!"
"So I've been told" Sherlock replied with a smug grin.
"So what will it be, John?"
"You're nuts Sherlock" But squaring his shoulders like he had seen his father do when pressed with difficult matters, John strode beside Sherlock waiting for the younger boy to follow and take lead.
"You won't regret this"
"Shut up, I know I will" John did his best to ignore his friend for the remainder of their walk, yet the effort was futile as he watched Sherlock practically skip like it was his birthday.
"Will you stop?!" Sherlock said nothing but simply offered him a charming smile as they made their way to their newest quest.