He woke up the next morning and although he wanted to stay he knew he couldn't. He took the key to the flat and left the number of the pay phone he stayed near and then quietly left.
John awoke not long after and went to find the payphone. It wasn't far away and he easily found it. He stood there looking around for signs of Sherlock. The part of town was sketchy so he held the bag he was carrying close to his body.
Sherlock showed up half an hour later with a bruise on his cheek and smiled when he saw John, "Sorry that I left...had an appointment with someone," he mumbled as he stuffed some money into his pocket. He rubbed the bruise on his cheek and sighed, "The guy liked it rough."
He reached out a hand to examine Sherlock's cheek. It wasn't too bad. The bruise would fade shortly. "Do you live around here?"
He nodded slightly and pointed at a dark alley near the pay phone, "In there," he mumbled, "Sorry again that I left. But I wanted you to know where I normally stay close too."
"I brought you some things. I didn't know if you were coming back or had any friends that stay with you." John handed him a bag containing a medical kit, several protein bars, blankets, clothes, and two hundred dollars. "Well, if you're not doing anything would you like to get some breakfast with me?"
He nodded slightly and grinned, "Yes please," he said but handed John the two hundred dollars, "Don't give me money. That's what people who use me do. Plus I'll just spend it on drugs."
John nodded in understanding. "Is there anywhere in particular you want to go? I'm free all day too." John added with a smile.
"Somewhere close...I'm starting to go into withdrawal and I want to spend time with you before you see me...like that," he mumbled and bit his lip, "It's not nice."
"Don't worry about withdrawal. I had a sister who was quite the drinker. She also had a drug problem when we were teens. If I can nurse her back to health then I can do the same for you, especially now that I'm a certified doctor." John reached out for Sherlock's hand.
Sherlock didn't hold John's hand though, "What do you think is going to happen? Do you think you can fix me?" he asked, "Because I'm going to stop taking drugs and I'm sure as hell not going to go back to my family. I'd rather die than see my father again," he muttered.
"Well its not going to be pleasant, but I admire what you are doing a lot. You are going to have anxiety, and muscle aches and agitation for starters. I'm here for you." John reached out his hand again.
Sherlock took it and stared at the ground, "You shouldn't be though...you're wasting your time," he said and frowned. The pay phone ringed and Sherlock instinctively answered it, "How did you find me this time Mycroft?" he asked knowing it was his older brother.
"Mycroft?... brother." John asked still holding Sherlock's hand.
Sherlock ignored John and let go of his hand so he could whisper into the phone, "I asked how did you find me brother?"
John took a few steps back allowing Sherlock some privacy. He had a few questions, but he could always ask later. He looked around doing his best not to eavesdrop.
Sherlock sighed and was considering to hang up, "I said answer me!"
"I do have people that I pay to keep an eye on you Sherlock..."
"You can't make me come home...I'll just run away again," he whispered angrily, "Plus you heard what dad said. He said he didn't want a freak like me around the house anymore."
"*sigh* Sherlock, I don't want you home either... however I don't want my brother parading around as a gay prostitute! You have potential, less than me, but still. I'm like you, you know. We think the same. Father would call me a freak if he knew so I pretend. In this world ,Sherlock, we are all just actors. Even your new friend. What's his name? John. He acts like he cares, but does he? So brother mine... what do you think?"
Sherlock began to cry, mostly because the withdrawal made him extremely moody, "He cares more than you do...he let me stay at his flat and he doesn't even ask me for sex," he said and smiled slightly, "I'm sick of acting. I hate it."
"Well then... good luck."[ Mycroft hangs up]
Sherlock slammed the phone down and looked back at John, "Sorry...my stupid brother calls me every now and then."
"Does he care about you?..." John tried to ask politely, once again stepping closer and extending a hand to Sherlock.
He shook his head quickly, "He couldn't care less about what happens to me," he muttered looked away, "He doesn't want me home, he just wants me off the streets. Apparently me being a gay prostitute isn't my intended profession."
"...Does it really surprise you that he looks down on your prostitution?" John let out a sigh and lowered his hand. "Look, I also want you off the streets and it's getting chilly. How about something to eat?" He smiled and looked to the street for a potential cab.
Sherlock nodded and smiled, "Sounds good," he said quietly and took John's hand, "But the thing that bothers me is the reason he wants me off the streets. It's not because he has any intention of me having a better life. It's because it's bad for our family's name."
As the cab slowed, John took a long look at Sherlock. He looked so young, but the bags forming under his eyes showed the true malnourished man he truly was. "Letting you go was far worse to your families name, than any tarnishes you could ever put. Now let's try and forget the past for a while." John smiled. opening the cab door for his friend.
He nodded as he got out of the cab and smiled at John, "Alright," he said and stretched a bit. He waited for John and then hugged him, "so where are we going?"
John rubbed his temple in utter frustration. He looked at Sherlock, biting his lip. "Well, home. I left my phone... sorry.." John stepped out of the cab and headed to his front door. "Coming?"
He smiled slightly and nodded, "Fine with me," he said as he followed John, "But I shouldn't get too comfortable around here," he mumbled, "It makes it harder to leave."
"Why would you need to leave?" John asked casually. He rummaged around for his phone, gesturing for Sherlock to sit as he did so.
"I was planning on leaving London...I want to travel to Asia. Young white prostitutes get more money there," he mumbled, "Not to mention the laws on drugs are less tight."
John stopped dead in his tracks with a hurt look in his eyes. "But..." He abandoned his search and went to sit by Sherlock. "Sherlock, it's your decision, but...I want you to stay. Don't you want to try and stop prostitution and I don't know get some sort of education?" John paused and licked his lips nervously. "Look, I think you're bloody brilliant. You could go on to be very successful. I just think you shouldn't be throwing all that away so young. Besides how could you leave London. I know I don't want to leave this city."
He looked slightly ashamed and stood up, "I don't want to leave London. It's my only home...but I'm almost eighteen and then I can leave without my brother having the legal right to hold me back," he muttered, "And I have an education. I graduated from high school almost a year ago. I went to university for a few days but then I dropped out...I wanted to stay but if I did I wouldn't be safe. My dorm room had two other guys in it and they both hated me. They beat me up in the showers every day...I don't belong anywhere except on the streets."
"That's horrible...but maybe you belong here..." John smiled gently rubbing Sherlock's hand.
He took his head away and frowned, "No! You may think you like me now ,but you'll change your mind and I'll be on the streets again!" He yelled. He didn't mean to sound so angry but it had been almost two days since he'd shot up and he was going into withdrawal.
"The beginning of withdrawal brings anger, Sherlock." John wasn't upset with Sherlock's outburst. It was natural, wasn't it...then why was he starting to feel hurt. "...you don't mean that, do you?..." John bit his lip. "I promise I won't change my mind.
Sherlock shook his head and started to walk away from John, "I can't stay here any longer..." He muttered and dropped the supplies and food John had given him and went to the door, "I'll only waste more of your time."
John got up and looked at Sherlock with sadness in his eyes. "Please, don't go. It's only the withdrawal." He ran a hand through his hair. "...please don't leave me... like everyone else."
He sighed and slid to the floor. He started to cry and nodded, "Fine...I don't want to go but it's so hard not to."
John wiped his eyes. "Thank you..."
Sherlock nodded and crawled into the bathroom. He threw up in the toilet and then curled up in the bathtub and started to sob.
John followed and sat on the edge of the bathtub. "Do you want a bath? It might help with the headache you must have."
He nodded slightly and pulled off his clothes except his underwear and put the water on. "I'm sorry..."
"It's fine, Sherlock." John stood and glanced at Sherlock before heading toward the sink. "I'll just be a second..." He turned on the faucet and splashed water in his face, trying to hide the redness left from his tears.
He filled the bathtub with hot water and let out a small moan as he closed his eyes, "Thank you...this is nice."
John looked up and smiled. "Good, I'll be in the living room if you...need me or something." He walked out the door, leaving it slightly ajar so he could hear Sherlock if he called.
Sherlock finished his bath and then walked out with a towel around his waist, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." John lay on the couch with his laptop on his chest. "So, feeling better?"
He shook his head and laid down next to John, "A bit but it still feels so bad," he mumbled and kissed John's neck, "Distract me. Please."
John put an arm around Sherlock, pulling him closer. "How?" he asked calmly clicking the mouse pad of his laptop a few times. The blonde look at Sherlock and smiled, enjoying the sensation of the kisses. He didn't know if he wanted more yet, but he would do anything for Sherlock.
He shrugged, "Have their been any larger murders in the news lately?" He asked, "I'm terribly bored," he mumbled.
"Sadly not." John rested his head against Sherlock's. "oh I almost forgot. I subscribed to a new detective magazine and the first issues just came in. Here, I haven't read it yet either." John reached over to the coffee table and handed a thick magazine to Sherlock.
Sherlock grinned and took it. He started to flip through it intently. He stopped at the section about Jack the Ripper and smirked, "I would've been able to solve it you know...if I'd been there," he mumbled and continued to flip through it, "Do you have any cigarettes?" He asked, "I smoke like a chimney when I'm stressed."
"I'm a doctor, Sherlock. No cigarettes. Beside that'll make the withdrawal worse." John carefully read part of the page dedicated to the study of mind palaces. "Hey did you read this? It's interesting."
He laughed gently and read it over, "I've had a mind palace since I was ten...my old English professor from university wrote this. I was the one who told him about it."
"That's amazing!...fantastic" John smiled and ran a hand through Sherlock's hair lovingly. He snuggled closer, flipping the page.
Sherlock grinned, "I have a room just for you. On the top floor with everything else important. Right next to the room where I categorize types of tobacco ash."
"Hm, that may be the weirdest thing anyone has ever said to me..." John turned and looked into Sherlock's eyes. "...it's also the sweetest."
Sherlock smiled and kissed him deeply, "I-I'm scared John..."
John kissed Sherlock back with more passion. After a moment, he pulled away once again looking into the young boy's eyes. "It's going to be okay. I'll be here for you."
Sherlock sighed, "I know...you're the only one who is."
John gave Sherlock's hair another ruffle before resting his head on the boy's chest. "I'm bored. It's your turn to entertain me."
Sherlock thought for a few seconds before he got up and held out his hand, "I want to show you something."
"Oh, alright sure." He stood and took Sherlock's hand, letting him lead.
Sherlock walked out of the flat and behind the building where a little puppy was eating some leftovers from the other night, "I-I found him this morning and I brought him here before you woke up," he said and frowned, "The poor thing looked so hungry. I couldn't just leave him."
John giggled as the puppy jumped on him. He pet him and rubbed behind it's ears. "Now you know how I felt when I saw you..." John looked up at Sherlock and attempted to change the subject. "What should we name him?"
The puppy barked and wagged its tail. He was a black Labrador retriever and the tip of his right ear had a large scar from a cut, "Redbeard," he said and smiled, "Every good pirate has a scar or two."
John reached down and picked up the puppy. "Come on in. We can make him a spot by the kitchen."
Sherlock nodded and kissed John's cheek, "Thank you...you really are amazingly kind," he said and the puppy licked John's cheek as well.
John blushed and smiled. "Thanks, and thank you for everything. Especially the company."
Sherlock grinned and pet the puppy as they got up to the flat, "You saved me. It's the least I can do."
The boys reached the flat. John opened the door and placed the puppy on his chair. He sat on the couch, smiling. "We have a pet." He giggled "Now we're really a family."
The little dog barked loudly and Sherlock laughed slightly, "Yeah...I guess we are," he said quietly, "I know you're busy with work so I'll train him."
"Sure, that would be helpful." John scratched his head, before standing and getting the dog situated. A few minutes later the now well fed puppy was sound asleep in a pile of blankets that were carefully placed in a cardboard box.
"I think I might take a nap too. Want to take one?"
He grinned and nodded. He got up and went to the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and jumped onto the bed, "John...could I live here?" He asked quietly, "Permanently."
John slid into the bed as well. "Of course! I would love it if you stayed."
Sherlock grinned and kissed John, "Thank you so much," he said and started to cry, "I thought I would leave but when I was with the man who fucked me this morning...he hurt me and I realized I could do better," he mumbled, "I deserve better and I know it."
John reached out a hand and wiped the tears from Sherlock's eyes. "Are you okay? How did he hurt you? I can take a look if you want."
He nodded slightly and took a deep breath, "He fucked me really hard and after I was bleeding a bit. And it wasn't just that. He said I was a sick disgusting stupid slut..." He muttered, "He said the next time he'd hurt me even more. I don't want there to be a next time."
"And there never will be. From now you don't have to have sex with anyone you don't want to." John rested his head close to Sherlock's "you don't need to worry about getting money. My job can support us. Besides you need time to recover from withdrawal."
He nodded and hugged John, "Thank you...I appreciate it," he mumbled.
"Don't mention it" John whispered, not letting Sherlock go. He lay there on the bed with Sherlock in his arms and everything felt right.
Sherlock grinned and nodded before falling asleep.
John stared happily at Sherlock's sleeping form, before he himself fell asleep as well. He automatically curled in close as he drifted off.