Sherlock Holmes leaned against the wall of the gym building, taking a drag from his last cigarette. As he exhaled, he heard a swarm of girls giggling about some mundane reason. 'Idiots, they're all bloody idiots,' he thought to himself, looking up to the sky. He wondered why he have to be forced to participate in this charade every single day. He knew all of the materials in his textbooks, more so than any of his classmates. He had already figured out those 'challenging life problems' the professors tried to shove down the students throats. 'Useless, it's all useless,' he thought taking another drag.
John Watson was biting the end of his pencil as he tried to focus on the problem in front of him. How did he not understand projectile motion? School related things normally came easy to him, just not physics. He noticed a funny taste in his mouth, when he realized he had bitten off the rubber to his pencil. "Shit," John mumbled as he spit out the accursed thing, then continued to try and figure out how to solve this problem. Class had ended over a half an hour ago, but John was determined. Determined to finish this blasted work page before heading back to his room. 'Oh, fuck this. I'll work on it later,' he thought in anger as he packed his books into his bag and walked out the class room.
John casually strolled across the campus, his bag banging against his legs. It was the last day of the term, and John was finally heading home. Though he'd never admit it to them, he missed his parents, and his older sister Harry. He had tried to keep in touch with them, but with little effect. This worried John's mother the most, but over time, she learned to trust her only son. John passes by the gym building when a foul odor passed under his nose. Cigarettes. John thought in disgust as he saw a boy, not much younger than him leaning against the wall, with the infamous white stick poking out of his mouth. The boy was tall and kind of lanky. He had dark hair, and abnormally high cheekbones. The hood of his black sweatshirt hood covering his curly black hair. The boy, sensing John staring at him, looked at him quizzically. John looked away, and continued to walk along, still feeling the boy's eyes on his back. 'Don't look back, Watson. Don't look back,' John commanded himself as he trudged along.
John finally made it back to his dorm room when he noticed the door was ajar. Taking precaution, he grabbed a book out of his bag, ready to use it as a weapon against some unknown assailant when he heard a voice scream out "JOHN!" Next thing he knew was that someone had tackled him, and all he could see was sandy blonde hair. "Jesus Christ, Harry! Warn me next time you visit, okay?" John said as he removed his older sister from her bone crushing embrace. John's sister Harry, like most people, was about an inch or two taller than John was. But she still had the trademark Watson sandy blonde hair, and ever tired looking eyes. "Aw, come on Johnny-boy. Can't a girl visit her little brother and bring him home to mummy?" Harry said as she squeezed John's cheeks. "I'm not a little boy anymore. Hell, Harry! I'm 18 years old." John cried out, throwing his arms up into the air. "But you're still my younger brother, and the baby of the family. And you will be for the rest of your life," Harry said with a smirk on her face. "Great. Just bloody fantastic..." John mumbled under his breath. "Hey, watch it with the language too. You know how mum gets when you curse like that," said Harry softly. "Yeah I know. How is mum by the way? She still mad at you, for well... You know." John said reluctantly.
Harry had come out as a lesbian when she was 16, and Mrs. Watson was not too thrilled. John vaguely remembers when he was 14, the screaming that echoed through the house when Harry and his mother were having another row. John shuttered at the memory. "I think mum's okay with it now. She hasn't screamed at me in over a week so that's a good sign," Harry said, smiling faintly. "Oh, okay. That's good," John said awkwardly. "Plus, since you're coming home for two weeks, the house will be quiet for a while. She doesn't like to fight when you're home..." Harry stated, trying to seem chipper about it. John looked down and noticed Harry's wrists. There were traces of recent scabs across her veins. "Oi!" John cried as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her sleeve up. "Harry... How old are these? I thought you said you hadn't cut in a while..." John said sympathetically. "They're only a week or so old. Made them last time mum and I fought." Harry said softly. John opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words. He simply sighed and said, "I guess I should get my stuff together, right?" Harry slowly nodded and followed her brother into his dorm room.
Sherlock grumbled to himself as he shoved another days worth of clothes into his duffle bag. He despised going home for the holiday. The cold presence of his mother and brother were almost unbearable for the young genius. What he really wanted to do was just stay in his dorm, but the idiotic superintendent was forcing him out. He even made Sherlock switch dorm rooms for the new term. Sherlock hated getting new roommates. All they ever tried to do was make Sherlock do their homework, then Sherlock would constantly insult them, causing a change in rooms. He seriously considered asking his older brother, Mycroft, for help but unfortunately there was nothing he could do. Sulkingly, the young detective walked to the bus stop, after refusing his brother's offer to be picked up by car, and as soon as the bus came, found a seat. He put in his earphones hoping to drown out the sound of the other students gushing on what they were going to do over the winter break as he stared blankly out the window.
"You seriously took a bus here?" John asked his sister as they walked down the aisle searching for two empty seats. "Well yeah! I sure as hell wouldn't drive here, especially when everyone else is trying to," Harry explained to her younger sibling sliding into an empty row. "It makes sense but, a bus?" John said raising his eyebrow. "Hey, it's cheap and we don't to go really far, so suck it up," Harry said starting to become angry. "All right, all right." John said laughing holding his hands up to surrender. Harry slightly smiled at him then turned to look out the window. John smiled at his sister, then when he noticed her spacing out, he decided that he should give the bloody physics work another go.
"Here, we're home," Harry said, smacking John's arm. "Huh?" John said stupidly. "We're home, you idiot." Harry said laughing trying to push John out of the row. "All right! I'm moving!" John grabbed his things and joined the crowd of others getting off at the same spot. As soon as the Watson siblings left the bus, Harry observed, "Hey, it's snowing!" John looked up at the sky as little white flakes started to land on his face. "So it is," John muttered to himself. In the corner of his eye, he saw something he recognized. It was that pale face boy again. John spun around to look at him, and the boy was looking right back at him. Harry leaned over her brother's shoulder, trying to see what had startled the boy. "Hey, he's cute. Pretty awesome cheekbones too," Harry said, turning to look at her brother. "Huh?" John muttered looking back at his sister. "Didn't think that tall and lanky would be your type, but I guess you learn something new everyday," Harry said as she started to walk away. "Wait... What? Harry, I'm not gay!" John responded, catching up with his sister. "All right, whatever floats your boat, Johnny-boy," she said with a smirk and continued to walk along. John outwardly groaned, but continued to follow his sister.
Sherlock stared puzzlingly out the window. He had seen that sandy blonde haired boy before. Multiple times actually. Sherlock remembered analyzing the boy when he first came to school. Short, more shorter than most of the school's population, an athlete, and quite a lady's man. Sherlock recalls seeing that boy with another girl almost every two weeks or so. Average intelligence, but excels at biology. He seems to want to become a doctor. This boy was just a normal, ordinary, student. Sherlock shook the image of the boy out of his head, and continued to analyze the other students around him. Two girls and one boy. One of the girls is dating the boy but neither if them know that the friend is sleeping with both of them. The two boys across from him are in love with each other, though neither of them will admit it. 'Dull' Sherlock thought, rolling his eyes and then decided to stare blankly out the window again.