A teenager walks through the crowd of other teenagers. Walking as average as ever but is still feared and admired. John Watson. Captain of the Rugby Team. He walks with his mates and they walk behind him. John Watson can snap you in two but John Watson can tend your wounds with a gentle touch.

He says goodbye to his teammates and goes to the library. Yes, he may be the Captain of the Rugby Team but he's also a smart bastard. Probably why many just want him. He reads quietly about Maths when he hears someone sit beside him.

"Hey, John," Sally Donovan, head girl, says.

"Hey, Sally," he smiles politely. They're not exactly close but they get along well.

"Oh dear lord," she mutters as she looks at the book he's holding. "Maths. I can understand it but it gives me hell."

"Which is why I'm studying it. This thing sucks hell," he shakes the book and they both laugh.

"By the way, have you seen Greg?" she asks.

"No, why?"

"Well, I just want to give him my part of the project. That guy thinks he's the boss," she rolls her eyes with a smile. "Technically, he is the boss but I don't like him thinking he's the boss."

"Yeah, well. Good luck finding him, Sally. I'm going to study."

"Right," she stands up and he is pleased to go back to his book. He's interrupted by a yelp of surprise.

Sally is now angry, books all over the ground and him picking up the books. "Really, Sally? You can't even try to avoid bumping into me? Judging by the position of how you are standing, it's obvious you've been walking, looking straight ahead. So I would assume that you could at least avoid people in front of you."

"Well you're not exactly people, are you?" Sally says sarcastically. "Hmm?"

"Why on earth would I even think of myself as people?" Holmes spits the word as if it's an insult. "Especially if you're in it. I don't wish to be categorised with people who choose Anderson with a love affair." Holmes says the word with such disgust that even Sally is disgusted with the tone of his voice. Although Sally is disgusted by him no matter what.

"I don't need to hear anything that comes out of your mouth, Freak."

"Freak? That's all you can come up with? Freak? A five-letter word with only one syllable?" Holmes laughs. He forgets the book in his hand and watches Sally and Holmes in front of him with curious eyes. "I know far more than that." Holmes chuckles.

"You?" Sally mocks. "No one cares what a psychopath has to say."

"High-functioning sociopath."

"Sociopath? Psychopath? Who cares? You? Oh like you ever cared about something!" Sally laughs.

"Oh I care a lot. Deeply. Especially for you," Holmes says and Sally looks suspiciously. "Because Anderson's girlfriend is the person standing beside you this whole time. Oh Sally, you're in trouble."

"You're in trouble after I squash your head like a grape!"

"I won't be in trouble. I'd be dead."

"Get out of here, Freak!"

"Gladly."

And Sherlock Holmes gives a victorious smirk at Sally Donovan and leaves, with a smug look in his eyes. Sally turns around and makes up reasons to Anderson's girlfriend. John Watson doesn't hear her conversation. He thinks more about Sherlock. Honestly, he thinks Sherlock is such an arse. Also he can't help but think that he is smart. A smart-arse. Perfect title.

Although it makes him uncomfortable how he takes Donovan's name for him as if it's his name.

The Freak?

That seems harsh. But there's a little voice. The voice that agrees with his teammates. The one that sounds like a douche. And it tells him that Sherlock is a Freak. Then he denies this and thinks, 'No. Sherlock's a bloody weird bloke. But a Freak? That's a harsh name. Who can even live with that name given to you? Sherlock? Well that's unfortunate.'

There has been a lot of things that concerns the great Sherlock Holmes. Apparently, he's got himself a reputation. There are whispers. Whenever Holmes walks through the crowd of teenagers, the crowd would part because of disgust and anger, John wouldn't know. But he can see that Holmes even looks satisfied with it.

Odd guy.

Who likes being avoided like you're a virus? Although that's what many people think Holmes has. A virus. Thankfully, it isn't contagious, others say. He never actually saw Holmes before the incident with Sally. Rumours say that he'd be completely merciless with his words. Hmm.

Later, after school, he approaches Sally. "Hey, Sally, success on finding Greg?"

"Yup. Good thing too. I was starting to panic!" she laughs.

He asks, "Listen, earlier today. Holmes. I just want to ask, why do you call him Freak?"

"The Freak? What do you mean?" she asks with a confused tone. "Everyone calls him that, right?"

He thinks hard, "Yes, well.. I just want to ask why you call him that. You specifically."

"Why?"

"I want to ask the Head Girl's perspective."

"Okay.. The Freak.. God, where to start. First of all, that arsehole is a complete know-it-all who just won't shut up until everyone's ears are bleeding. Acts all powerful and like he owns the place. What an arsehole! God... He isn't even human. It's like he's a machine! I saw him cut worms once and he put some kind of liquid on them. I mean, who the hell does that? He even looks happy with what he was doing. What a freak." He winces at the word. Not for Sherlock's sake but because of how it was delivered. He knows that Sally means the word.

"Oh." he whispers.

"Oh?"

"That's all I can say. Oh." he tells her.

"Right. Listen, did the Freak bother you today? I mean, why ask?"

"Dunno. I guess I got curious."

"Right. I have to go now. Bye, John."

"Bye, Sally!" he waves and makes his way back home.

AN:

I don't own the characters. First Fanfiction.