The Soldier and The Freak
Playing Pretend
1.
"Now Sweetheart, do you have everything you need?"
"Yes mummy," John Watson tucked his thumbs under the straps of his brand new backpack. It was a cold but clear day, and a haze of perspiration left John's smiling mouth when he replied.
"I'll pick you up by the green door at three okay?" John's mum pointed to reinforce her words before she adjusted the scarf around her sons neck, "Remember not to go wandering away from it."
John nodded and replied cheerily, "Yes mummy. I love you."
"I love you too Button," She leant down and pressed a small kiss to her son's rosy cheek, "Be good!"
John smiled and waved to his mother as he skipped away into his new school. He was excited to start afresh, he has a crisp new rucksack, pencil case and sharp stationery all with a camouflage print that his mummy had brought him. He was looking forward to making new friends and meeting new teachers, although he did miss his old ones. There were a large amount of children chattering and going in through the main entrance so he followed them. He was brought into a large Hall where all the children were sat down in neat but long rows on the navy carpet. There were so many that he was suddenly hit with a wave of nervousness and stopped in his tracks. He started to regret the extra slice of toast he'd eaten this morning. Someone crashed heavily into the back of him and he spun around in alarm.
"I'm sorry," He said, blushing bright red.
The boy looked at him for a second. He had golden brown curls, pale skin and was a little chubby. He said nothing and walked past him, going to sit at the back. John was still blushing when he followed him.
"Good Morning everyone!"
John's attention was brought by the young women standing at the front. She had strawberry blonde hair, and her pale skin had a dusting of freckles. Her mouth was turned up in a wide smile and John felt himself relax again.
"I hope you all enjoyed your weekend and are excited for a new week of fun! Before we start I gave someone to introduce to you all," She paused and gave another large smile, her teeth were slightly crooked but white and her lips were a pale pink, "John Watson? Have you managed to find your way here?"
John swallowed heavily and slowly put up a shaking hand.
"Stand up for me dear. I tried to find you this morning but got caught up in...something else," her glance wavered to a grumpy looking boy with a scowl on his face before turning back to John, "Everyone say Hello to John."
"Hello John," all the kids sang, and John was suddenly very aware of all the eyes on him.
"Now, I want you to all be helping John today, I'm sure you all remember how scary it was on your first day," The teacher said with yet another bright smile.
"Yes Miss!" The children replied in another lyrical tone.
The day then followed with the class singing a song that John recognised from one of his books, and he was then taken by the teacher to a room that had lots of tables, each a bright primary colours, and drawings and posters all over the walls.
"This is the art room," he was told, "Your teacher is called Mr Wood, and I'm Miss Gordon."
John nodded, "Yes Miss Gordon."
"Now, if you need anything just ask Mr Wood or one of the other children okay?" She explained, "I'm sure you'll be making lots of friends. Do you like colouring?"
"Yes Miss Gordon."
"Very good. I'll be back at the end to make sure you get to your next class with the other children."
"Yes Miss Gordon."
The teacher smiled again before she left, and Mr Wood asked him to sit on the yellow table. He was given paper and crayons and was told to draw whatever he liked. He decided a tank would be his next masterpiece.
When he looked up saw that the girl opposite was drawing a house, and the girl beside her had a suspiciously similar image. The two other boys on the table kept their arms over their work so John couldn't see. Maybe they'd have previous experience with the 'copying girl.'
Forty minutes into the lesson the boy with the golden curls walked in. He was wearing black trousers and a mustard sweater.
"William, you have to come to lessons straight away," Mr Wood scowled.
The boy ignored him and sat down next to John, grabbing some paper.
John watched him draw until William looked up and caught his eye. A shiver ran down his spine and he quickly turned back to his own drawing.
Mr Wood began walking around and praising the drawings. He stopped behind William and his expression changed.
"What... What is that William?" he asked nervously.
"My name isn't William. It's Sherlock. "
That was the first time that John had heard the boy speak.
"That's a corpse. He was killed by his Uncle. You can see by the angle of entry that he used a blunt object. Probably a kitchen utensil, a rolling pin I think."
"Oh..." Mr Wood went pale, "What...er, why don't you draw something else?"
John couldn't help but stare at the picture and then Sherlock.
Sherlock then persisted to draw a decapitated head until the end of the hour.
"John?" Miss Gordon was stood behind him, he hadn't seen or heard her come in and he jumped, "Ready to go to literacy?"
John nodded and got out of his chair, still glancing at the Sherlock boy every few minutes as Miss Gordon started a conversation with Mr Wood.
"I like your drawing," he said nervously. He figured it was better be friends with this guy than enemies.
Sherlock continued scribbling, "I know."
That was the first encounter that John Watson had with Sherlock Holmes.
2.
John settled into his new school very quickly. After a few more days he had found himself a little group of friends. Nancy was a very small girl with pretty blue eyes and a freckled nose, she wore her blonde hair in a ponytail everyday and had allowed John into her current group. There was James, her twin brother who always stood protectively at her side, and his friend Michael who never really said much. Then again that could because of the fact he always had his thumb in his mouth. His eyes were an expressive shade of brown and his hair was a tangled black mess on top of his head. John sometimes wondered if he owned a hair brush.
"Hey John, over here!"
John noticed Nancy waving her arm at him widely and quickly tuned to kiss his mum goodbye, "See you later Darling!"
"Bye mum!" He jogged through the playground to just friends who were stood by the green door.
"Hey guys," He smiled.
"Hey John," James greeted, "Look at my new Pokemon card!"
Nancy rolled her eyes, "Oh please, that one's not even that…"
"Is too!" James pouted.
"I've actually had that one for a while…," John admitted, immediately regretting it when James' face fell, "It's still really cool though" he reassured.
"Oh look, freaks here!" Nancy suddenly called.
John turned around and saw William...Sherlock...whatever his name was walk across the playground. He kept his head down while a majority of the children looked up , pointed and laughed. Even Michael took his thumb out of his mouth long enough to let out a snigger.
"Guys don't," John frowned, putting his hand on Nancy's arm.
Sherlock looked up at him with a confused expression.
"But he is weird John," Nancy defended, "He's only little but he's already in school."
It was only when she pointed it out that John noticed that Sherlock was unmistakably younger than all the other children. He supposed he hadn't noticed before because he was still tall.
"His brother is weird too."
John listened to the acquisitions, "He's a good drawer. I sat next to him when I first got here."
The bell rang and the children filed in through the door, the previous incident long forgotten and replaced with the morning register and singing as quick had it had arrived. Apart from Sherlock and John of course.
It wasn't until the next day that John saw Sherlock again. He had a habit of only turning up to certain classes, although John has no idea where he was during the others. He walked into Numeracy and sat down next to John without a word or a glance. John didn't dare say anything to him first, he was still more than a little scared of the boy.
"Now, I'd like you all to work with the person sitting next to you and help each other remember your times tables okay?"
John's maths teacher was a middle age man with a bald head and a love for coffee that had stained his teeth yellow. He could use a breath mint too.
John figured that it was okay to look at Sherlock if he was his partner. He turned his head slightly and saw that Sherlock was studying him intently. He swallowed.
"I...Er…." John stuttered.
"John Watson, correct?" Sherlock asked.
John nodded, "Yes."
"What you did this morning? Don't do it again," Sherlock looked up through his eyebrows at John.
"I was…"
"Trying to help, I know. Don't."
John was surprised when he felt anger bubble up inside him, "Okay," he replied through gritted teeth. He thought he at least deserved a thank you. He stood up for him in front of everyone, even his friends, and Sherlock was angry at him for it?
"Look! Sherlock has a friend," A girl opposite them said in a smug tone.
Sherlock glared at her but said nothing.
"Are you a freak too?" She asked, turning to John.
"What? No I was just…!"
"We're not friends Georgia Benson," Sherlock suddenly said in a soft tone. John felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"If we were friends I would have told John here that you split paint all over the floor and blamed Nicholas," Sherlock continued in the same tone.
"How did you know?" Georgia looked horrified.
"I know everything," Sherlock replied. John saw him smile for the first time and there was something a little unsettling about it.
Georgia quickly shut her mouth and was suddenly very interested about the blank page in front of her.
John chewed his lip, "Thank you."
Sherlock shrugged, and slid a piece of paper across the table to John. It had all the times tables on it quickly scribbled down in neat handwriting, "In case he asks you."
John took the page, "What about you?"
Sherlock smirked, "I'll be fine."
"Thank you."
Sherlock shrugged again.
John felt Sherlock's eyes on him for the remainder of the lesson but he didn't dare look up. He had a strange fuzzy feeling in his stomach and he quickly realised that he was silently hoping that he and Sherlock would become sort of friends. He seemed strange sure enough, but he was also fascinating and John wanted to find out as much as possible about him. When the teacher dismissed them and the Children made the short journey across the hall into the next classroom in a large group, John made sure to stay close to Sherlock while trying not to be too obvious. However in the pull of the crowd Sherlock somehow escaped his view. John didn't see him once in his next class, he spent most of it thinking about where he could have gone. In fact he was distracted for the remainder of the day until his mum picked him up.
"So, honey, how was your day?" John's mum asked, holding his hand so that he didn't get lost in the crowd of children and parents.
"Good," John replied, looking around for Sherlock.
John's mother gave a concerned frown that only she could, "Have you lost something dear?"
"No mummy," John shook his head and then gave another quick glance of his surroundings.
"We'll lets hurry up and get home, it's very chilly today."
John would have stayed out in the cold for another glance of Sherlock, but he supposed he would see him tomorrow. 1069W.
3.
The temperature plummeted even lower over night and a light dusting of snow soon tuned heavy. John woke up warm and snug in his bed, and was confused by how light it was outside. Usually when he woke up for school it was still dark and he could sometimes see the stars from his window. A strange light was filtering in through the gap in his green curtains and his curiosity got the better of him, causing him to tumble from his bed on sleepy legs. His bare feet padded over to the window across his bedroom carpet and he peered through the gap. He let out a groan and pulled the curtains apart just to make sure. There was a thick covering of powdered glitter sparkling across the grass and roads. A young women was treading carefully over an icy patch and birds sat huddled together on power lines for warmth. It was undoubtedly a snow day.
John let out a sigh and walked back to his bed to shove on his slippers and grabbed a sweater from his closet to put over his tank pyjamas because it was so cold. His slippers made a soft scuffing noise has he dragged his feet along the hallway and into the kitchen. His mum was sat up to the counter with a cup of coffee in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.
"Good morning," She smiled, hopping up to get him some cereal, "Do you want to call any friends to come over and play?"
"No thank you," John replied, clambering up onto the chair beside his mum.
"Are you sure? You love playing in the snow," She placed a bowl and spoon in front of him before going to pour a glass of orange juice.
"I have a sore throat," John lied, stirring his cereal around in a circle.
That was a mistake. John's mum left an empty glass and carton of juice on the counter and ran over to her son, feeling his forehead and asking all sorts of questions. She pulled his sweater down to cover more of his body before sending him back off to bed with his cereal abandoned. He made no objection and quickly got comfortable in his bed, and it didn't take long for his mum to come into his room with the glass of previously abandoned juice and tuck him up tightly.
"Let me know if you need anything," She kissed his forehead, noting that his temperature was still fine.
"Yes Mum," John replied.
John didn't remember falling asleep, but he must have done for a short time because the next thing he knew his mum was knocking gently on his door.
"John, there's some friends outside. Are you feeling any better?"
John decided he just as well go out and play with his friends when he had the chance, he told his mum that he'd be out soon and quickly put on all his winter clothing. She warned him to be careful and have fun before he left, running out through the door and almost slipping over in his haste.
"Hey John!"
He was hit by a cold flurry of ice that went in his mouth and dampened his scarf. A huge roar of laughter followed and Nancy came into view wearing a bright pink coat. John quickly grabbed his own handful of snow to seek his revenge. Nancy noticed and squealed, quickly ducking behind a shrub.
"That's cheating," John protested.
"No it's not."
At that moment not only did Nancy jump up from behind the shrub with a fist full of snow, but also James and Michael. John barely had a moment to take in the information before he was in the middle of a blizzard. He yelled and blindingly and grabbed some snow, throwing it in the direction he thought the three were standing. A squeal suggested that his thoughts had been correct, and before he knew it the three were throwing handfuls of roughly compacted ice crystals in every direction amongst the cries.
A loud grunt made all three stop, Nancy gasped in horror. John had hit a boy older than them who had been walking along the pavement with his younger brother.
"I, I'm so sorry, I didn't see," John stuttered.
The older boy wiping melting snow from his shoulder and turned to his younger brother who was laughing hysterically at the sight, "Shut up Sherly."
"Well done John," the boy commented once he had managed to calm his laughter, "I never thought I'd say that."
John frowned in confusion before he realised the younger of the two boys wrapped up in an oversized coat and earmuffs was no other than Sherlock. He felt his cheeks blush red and an awkward laugh left his lips.
"Come on, mother will blame me if we're late," the older boy said grabbed the complaining Sherlock by the arm and tugged him away down the street.
"John," Nancy hissed, "You really don't want to be friends with him. Everyone will laugh at you."
John shrugged, silently watching the two walk away until they were out of sight before he turned back to his friends, "Are we having a snowball fight or not?"
A huge amount of snow hit the back of John's head.