Author's Note:
Survival fic! Thought it would be more exciting if you found out on your own? Hope you all will like it as much as the others! Also, thank you so much to everyone left reviews!
It took John and Kevin at least an hour to check all of the traps, returning with six fish. Definitely the best catch since they arrived. He dropped the fish into their food hold before turning to his companion. "Sorry... 'bout earlier," he said softly but Kevin just nodded and laughed.
"Fine. It is fine, really. We all have urges and you hadn't done much since we landed." He smiled a bit and turned back to his wife who was slowly standing to collect the firewood with Maria.
"Thanks, mate." John patted Kevin on the back and turned to find Sherlock. It shouldn't be too hard, really. Especially with the boy in tow. "Sherlock?"
Sherlock had spent about fifteen minutes showing Thomas where common things like grapes and almonds would be to harvest. He kept the boy in view while he worked on using reeds and cattails by the inlet, also edible, into what would be best described as a basket. He was attaching a vine a strong, firm vine as a handle when he heard John calling for him. "Over here by the inlet." He waved a hand before going back to work. "The boy is over there making himself useful. I am having him gather grapes and almonds and putting them in that area you showed me. He can't carry a lot but it keeps him busy, but it is also why I am making this." He shook the crude object in his hand. Not perfect but it would do, functionality was all that really matter.
Jesus. John froze the moment he saw everything. Why had Sherlock been asleep the past two days? His stomach twisted because apparently he wasn't as resourceful as he thought. Right. "Grapes and almonds?" He muttered with a raised brow, squatting next to his husband. "We caught six fish so that is dinner. Depending on how many grapes the brat finds we might have a massive dinner." He placed a quick kiss on Sherlock's cheek. "I might go hunting again and try to get a bird. We had one the other night and it was amazing."
Sherlock smirked proudly. "That is just the easy stuff for the kid to find. In this region we should also be able to find arrowroots, bearberries, carob trees, jujube, orach and sea orach. The reeds and cattails are also edible but I thought they would be better put to use for crafting. They should also help strength the shelters and less likely to fall down. The boy isn't so bad you know. He just needed a little direction and people to stop treating him as a useless mouth to feed." He shrugged a bit and stood up. "So, I am thinking of a teaching lesson so everyone knows what is safe to pick and eat. Doing it as a group is more efficient."
"Uh, sure. Yeah. Do you want to tell them, then? We could do it tonight at the fire." John cleared his throat. Why was his stomach twisting? Nothing was wrong. Was he...jealous of Sherlock's knowledge? Scared that he would lose the position of leader he had gained? He cleared his throat. "We've tried working with him, Sherlock but he just stayed by your side and waited for you to wake up." He licked his lips. "You can teach Maria and Kelly. Kevin and I will stick to hunting," he added as a bit of an afterthought.
Sherlock raised his eyebrows at John. "Is everything okay?" Shouldn't his husband be happy that fish wouldn't be the only food source and better shelters could be made? He seemed upset for some reason.
"Mister, Mister! I dinn't eat any, like you asked! I did good!" Thomas came running up, grinning happily but it fell as soon as he saw John.
"Hmm?" John raised his eyebrows and nodded quickly. "Yeah. Of course. Yeah. Everything's fine." He smiled a bit. Apparently he was a bit more readable than he thought. "Just happy we have more food options," he trailed off as Thomas came running back. That kid obviously didn't like him. What the hell had he done? "Right. I am going to go find a bird," he muttered as he ran his fingers lightly across his husband's shoulders and disappeared into the few trees around them.
Sherlock frowned thoughtfully at John as he watched his husband leave. Something was bothering his partner he could tell just by the way John carried himself when leaving. Maybe they could talk about it later. Weren't they both supposed to be working harder at making their relationship better and talk about things? He was brought out of his thoughts by the boy speaking.
"He doesn't like me…" Thomas muttered, eyes staring at the ground.
"Hmm? Why do you say that?" Sherlock asked, with slightly raised eyebrows.
"He calls me 'brat' when he don't think Imma there…but I heard 'im…" Thomas sniffled and then ran back to the camp so he wouldn't cry in front of Sherlock. Big boys didn't cry. Mum would be furious if she caught him crying…except Mummy wasn't here anymore… He curled into the shelter, pretending to be sleeping, silent tears streaking down his face.
Two hours later John dropped two birds into the food hold, tossing his makeshift spear beside his and Sherlock's shelter. He was splattered with some blood and moved slowly to shore, washing himself off while talking to Kelly. She laughed a few times and he grinned before moving back toward the shelter. The sun was straight above them. Noon. He sighed and stood in the middle of the beach, head titled up and eyes closed.
Sherlock went around picking anything he could find that was useful, placing the items in the basket he had made. He made sure to get the full plant of each, so he could show everyone what they looked like when the time came. When the basket was full, he put it with the rest of the provisions. He kept the whole version of each plant with him, to take back to camp. He came back in time to see John talking to Kelly. She was laughing. No reason to be jealous. Just some friendly conversation. He sighed, dropped the items near the shelter they were using and trudged back to the reeds and cattails. They would be needed to make the collapsing structures a little more sturdy.
John opened his eyes after a few minutes and glanced around camp. Kevin and Kelly were sleeping, which they needed, and Maria was gathering firewood. He decided to try and find Sherlock. It didn't take him long, granted the island wasn't massive, and he gently placed a hand on his husband's lower back. "Want some help?" He smiled softly and found a few cattails, holding them for a moment. "Didn't mean to get upset earlier," he muttered. "I was just jealous. I don't know why, I just...I felt threatened because I have been in charge." There, he had said it. Communication.
Sherlock heard John coming but didn't turn around until his husband had started speaking. "Well, then I guess we are even. I got jealous of you talking to Kelly. It was stupid really." He sighed with a shrug. With the way things were going this was going to end up in a fight, wasn't it? Would changing the subject help? "Thomas thinks you hate him." There. Conversation averted away from them and onto the boy. Would it help though?
"I thought he hated me," John replied softly. So they were going to avoid talking about themselves? He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugged. "I will talk to him tonight if he lets me. We don't need anybody hating each other right now." He smiled the best he could and leaned over, giving Sherlock a gentle kiss. "Don't be jealous. It is always you."
"He heard him refer to him as a 'brat' a few times it would seem. I think you hurt his feelings." Sherlock shrugged a bit. He managed to give John a small smile and then embraced him in a hug. "I know." He clung to his husband for awhile but finally released the other man. "We need to be careful about how much we take, only enough for the day. Too much and it will spoil and disappear too quickly. This island isn't very big."
John closed his eyes as he relaxed against his husband before he pulled away. "I...yeah. I will talk to him," he muttered softly. He stopped picking and nodded a bit and looked around. "I caught two birds so we will have a big dinner," he paused. A blush was spreading over his cheeks. "I thought we could find something to hold fish oil. It is slippery and we could," he cut himself off and cleared his throat with a small nod.
Sherlock followed John's train of thought easily. "Oh God yes. We are going to find a way damn it." He smirked at his husband, and then returned back to serious conversation. "We need clay to mold and dry but…like you said, it just mostly sand and rocks here. With clay we would be able to make bowls, cups and other useful things. There might be some in the bottom of the inlet, but I haven't had the time to check yet."
"There might be, yeah," John muttered softly with a nod. "We have been using rocks as plates and just eating with our hands. Wet sticks over the fire to cook the meat," he looked over at Sherlock and smiled softly. They were together. That was what mattered. "I am not forcing anything on you, all right? But you need to eat some tonight. We have enough food and all the work today is going to wear you out." He reached a hand out to run his fingers along the line between his husband's pant line. "I think I might talk to Thomas." He met Sherlock's gaze hesitantly.
Sherlock shrugged a bit. "If I am hungry, I will eat." They weren't going to have this fight again were they? The first month marriage had been awful and it wouldn't be a good idea to get into again while they were stranded on deserted island. Thomas. Right, the boy. "That would be good. He just lost his mother and is stuck with a bunch of strangers. Probably just scared and acting out." He could relate to the last part, because it was exactly what he had done as a child.
John forced himself to stay quiet. If he fed Sherlock, made it romantic, then they would be set. He shifted slightly on his feet before leaning forward and softly meeting his husband's lips. "I love you, Sherlock," he whispered before moving to place both of his hands on Sherlock's ass, pulling him forward. Things already felt tense between them and he hated it. Their honeymoon had fixed things and they were starting to fall apart.
Sherlock returned the kiss, and then rested his head against John's. "I don't want to fight, please." They were supposed to be working on making their relationship better. He didn't want to fall back into stupid, petty fights. They were better than this. Stronger. The honeymoon had been proof of that. Things were just…hard right now and making things tense between them.
"No fighting," John whispered in response, his gaze locked on Sherlock. "We are just fine. We will be, I promise." He smiled slightly and took a deep breath. "We can talk tonight while I am on watch. I'm going to go talk to Thomas." After another parting kiss and a glance back at Sherlock he moved back to camp, sitting in front of the boy's shelter. "Thomas," he said softly.
Sherlock smiled as he watched John go and then returned to the task of gathering reeds and cattails for the shelters.
Thomas had cried himself to sleep and he woke up red cheeked and groggily from John's voice. He frowned when he saw who it was. "I didn't do nuffin! I been right here!" He stood up quickly, breathing in out of his nose causing his little chest to rise and fall heavily.
John looked up at him with a small frown. "Shh, you aren't in trouble." He stayed sitting and managed a bit of a smile. "I wanted to apologize, Thomas. I shouldn't have called you anything. So I'm sorry." He shifted slightly into his and Sherlock's camp, grabbing his husband's scarf and gently wiping at the boy's cheeks.
Oh. It was weird to hear an adult apologize. Thomas pulled away, slightly startled, but then stilled. "I weren't crying…just slept wrong," he muttered, his gaze not meeting John's. "Mummy said if I wanted to be a big boy I wasn't allowed to cry anymore." He began chewing on his bottom lip worriedly. If he wasn't in trouble before, he would be if they thought he was being a baby and crying.
"You can cry," John said softly. "Oh, Thomas, adults cry all the time. I cried a bit this morning and I am an adult. It isn't bad." He shifted to balance on his knees. This little boy was just scared and needed somebody. Sherlock was stepping up but he should, too. "How about you go hunting with us tomorrow?" Maybe that would make him feel a bit better.
"They…do?" Thomas asked incredulously. "But…you are big and strong and getta tell everyone what to do…why would you cry?" His eyes went wide at the thought of someone brave like John crying. His eyes got even wider in surprise. "R-really? I getta go? Oh please Mister, please! I swear I be good!" He was breathing heavily again in his excitement.
"Call me John," John said with a small smile, nodding his head. "And call my husband Sherlock, yeah?" He moved forward and hesitantly wrapped the boy in his arms, tugging him close. "You can go." He pulled away from the hug. "Kevin and I could use the help gathering the fish. You would be perfect." He grinned and ran a hand through Thomas' hair. "If you want to cry then you can, all right? You are still a big boy."
"Husband?" Thomas echoed confusedly. "His name is silly though…" He muttered and was once again startled by the contact. He didn't struggle out of it. Instead he gripped as tightly as he could. He had been wanting a hug awhile now, but he thought for sure he would just get yelled at some more.
God, Thomas was tugging at his heart strings. John nodded a bit. "Sherlock and I are married," he explained softly. "Like your Mummy and Daddy? We are husbands." He kept Thomas close to him and gently scratched the boy's back. "How about you sit next to us at dinner tonight? And I will give you my jacket as a blanket."
"I dun have a dad. Mummy said I was special and dinn't need one. Only really special, good boys dun get dads." Thomas nodded, as if what he said was absolute truth. He frowned in thought. "I guess I not though...Mummy gone. My fault, couldn't save her." He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He sniffled again, looking up at John as the last question finally registered. "Please?" His lower lip quivered. "Dun wanna be alone…" He trailed off brokenly.
"It isn't your fault at all," John said softly, pulling Thomas back into him. "Your Mummy is an angel now, Thomas, and you will always have her watching over you." He smiled and closed his eyes for a long moment. "Your shelter is right next to ours so you won't be alone. Sherlock and I are here for you." He looked around for his husband before meeting the boy's gaze. "Now...now you have got two daddies."
Thomas sniffled some more, his face buried in John's chest. Even though it was okay to cry now, he didn't want to anyway. He too deep, shaky breaths and looked up to John with wide eyes. "Two daddies? Never had a daddy 'fore…now I have two…" He brightened. "Cool."
Sherlock came back with an armful of reeds and cattails. God, he was exhausted. He probably shouldn't have exerted himself so much after just waking up from unconsciousness. He dropped the items to the ground and slumped into the shelter. "
"Yeah, cool." John grinned at Thomas and pulled away slowly from him, looking at his husband. Weak. "Love..." He moved to study Sherlock, frowning. "Stay here. You need to rest," his voice was soft and held no room for argument. "If you can relax until dinner we will get some food in you." He placed a soft kiss on his husband's forehead and moved some hair out of his face. "Nothing else for you today."
"Still need to make the shelters better," Sherlock mumbled. He didn't get up though. Rest sounded nice right about now. "Going to nap," he grumbled because he really didn't want to but it was needed. He closed his and fell asleep.
Thomas watched Sherlock curiously and then looked to John. "He sleeps lots."
John glanced back at Thomas for a long moment. "He is just a bit sick," he muttered as he stood up. It was almost time to get the fire ready for dinner, the sun was inching closer to the ocean. "Do you want fish or bird for dinner tonight?" He smiled a bit and started gathering the sticks that would be used to cook the meat, heading toward the shore to get them wet.
"Sick? He looks okay..." Thomas scrunched his nose as he studied Sherlock closely. He looked back to John. "Bird! Fish boring!" His excitement faltered when he looked back to Sherlock sleeping. "Is...is he gonna die like my Mum?" Another look back to John, as he began chewing his lip again.
It was an innocent question and Thomas didn't know any better but John still tensed, eyes locked intently on Sherlock. "No, he is just really tired. That makes him sick, too. He won't die." He reached down and ruffled the boy's hair with a bit of a smile. God, his husband couldn't die. He wouldn't let that happen. "So Thomas, where are you from?"
Thomas frowned, still chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully as he stared at Sherlock sleeping. His lip was practically raw now. He nodded slowly and looked back to John. "Cardiff. Mummy had business in Italy. We was gonna fly to London and she was gonna take me to see everything! I...never been..."
John moved forward and gently tugged Thomas's bottom lip from his mouth with a bit of a smile. "We live in London, me and Sherlock." He left it at that as he turned to dip the sticks in the water. What was he saying? Were they going to adopt the little boy when they got off the island? He cleared his throat and started heading back toward their fire pit, setting the sticks up like a grill as Maria returned with firewood.
Thomas brightened and followed John around. "I visit? If...we ever leave..." He trailed off for a moment. "I been all kinds of places with Mum, 'cept never anywhere back home. Family business is a..ab...abroad." He stumbled over the word but kept going. "Dunno what it is. Weren't old nuff to know. It a secret! Isn't that cool?" He frowned. "Guess I never know what it is..." He began chewing his lip again and then stopped, muttering an apology.
John couldn't help but laugh. "You don't have to apologize, Thomas. You are fine, just try not to do it." He smiled warmly at the young boy before glancing up at his husband. He would cook Sherlock's ration and have it waiting in the shelter. He figured his husband would still be asleep by the time the sun was down and his watch round started. "And of course you can come visit us. I am sure Sherlock and our daughter would love it." He stood slowly and patted Thomas on the back. "C'mon, let's get the food for dinner. Want to help us cook?"
"Daughter? My age?" Thomas hesitated a moment. "Dunno how to cook. Not apposed to play wit' fire. Mummy says it is da-dan-ger-ous." He stumbled over the word and hesitated again. "Teach me? It be okay? Won't get in trouble? He concentrated on not biting his bottom lip and he ended up chewing the inside of his cheek as an alternative.
"Oi." John laughed. "Not the inside of your cheek, either, Thomas." He smiled warmly before continuing. God, the thought of Amy made his stomach drop and he realized that he missed her. "No, she is much younger. About four months now," he muttered as they reached the food storage. He grabbed four fish and a bird, then some grapes. The biggest fish he knew he could split with his husband. If he ate slow he would fill up in no time and be able to save some for Sherlock. "Now, since we are cooking this bird you will have to give a bite for everybody and this is your breakfast, all right?" They returned to the fire and he plopped into the sand, setting the fish down on several leaves Maria had set out, before starting to pluck the bird.
Thomas mumbled another apology and immediately began fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn't seem to keep still. He was about to pout and argue that the bird was his but then he probably wouldn't get to visit John and Sh...Sherlock? in London. He sighed in resignation and then nodded slowly. He watched intently as the bird was plucked, eyebrows furrowing in thought. "Whatcha ya doin'?" He finally asked because he was certain he would die of curiosity if he didn't ask.
John looked up at the little boy and smiled a bit. "Plucking it. I need to get all the feathers off so it will cook a bit easier and taste better." He paused and reached a hand out, gently tickling Thomas' stomach. "Wouldn't do any good to get any feathers in your tummy," he said with a playful growl before setting the plucked bird down. "Got to wait a bit for the fire to get stronger. Any ideas, kiddo?"
Thomas made a loud squealing laughing noise from the tickling. Once he could breathe again he stared at John blankly. Ideas? For what? He frowned and then shrugged. "Dunno…" He finally mumbled, shrugging his small shoulders a second time. He plopped down onto the ground in front of the fire, his fingers fidgeting in his lap.
"We could..." John shifted slightly, a large grin on his face, before he darted to his feet and picked Thomas off the ground. "Grr!" He growled with a bit of a laugh, spinning around with his arms extended and clutching tightly at the boy's sides. "I'm going to eat you!" He said with another laugh. God, he couldn't keep a straight face but it was worth it. They were bonding, something everybody on the island was doing, and Thomas needed to have some fun.
"H-hey!" Thomas shrieked, confused at first. Whoa. He was getting dizzy but now he was laughing. No one had ever spun him around in circles like this before.
The noise from the fire rustled Sherlock from his slumber. He groaned, his eyes slowly opening. His vision finally came into focus. John was spinning the boy around? Huh. They must have finally started to get along. He stayed slumped against the shelter, watching the activities around him for now.
John moved to set Thomas gently in the sand, tickling his stomach with a large grin. "Ah, I'm going to get you!" He said with a laugh, moving to press his mouth against the boy's stomach and blow against it. He remembered his father doing it when he was young and he figured Thomas might like it, too. He lifted his head for another breath when he noticed Sherlock was awake. Good. Oh, God, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, one he didn't know was there. He turned his attention back to Thomas and grinned.
Thomas giggled some more. When he calmed down enough, he followed John's gaze. "YAY! The man with the funny name is awake!" He ran over to Sherlock. He crawled onto the warm lap.
Sherlock groaned from the unexpected, extra weight of a child being in his lap. Uh. All right. He looked down at Thomas and then glanced up at John helplessly. He returned his gaze back down to the boy. "I have a name you know."
"It weird!" Thomas pouted. "Dun you have another name to go by? One not so hard?"
Well, John did call him a Sex God but that wasn't appropriate to say was it? "Uh, no. Sorry."
"Thomas, up." John moved and lifted the boy from his husband's lap, setting up down just outside their shelter. "Sherlock needs to rest and I need to talk to him, okay? Go ask Maria if you can help with anything." There was a moment where he glanced at Sherlock with a smile before ruffling Thomas' hair. "Good morning, dear," he whispered as he moved to sit next to his husband, giving him a gentle kiss. "Feeling any better?"
Thomas stood staring at John, his bottom lip puckering in a pout. He wanted to go hunting tomorrow so he scampered off back to the fire without arguing.
Sherlock watched the boy leave before glancing up at John. "Morning? It looks closer to the evening my dear doctor." He smirked a bit. "I'm fine. What do you need to talk to me about?"
"Nothing, just wanted to be alone with you," John replied with a bit of a grin. It had worked. "You are looking a bit better. I'm sharing my ration with you tonight so we still have two fish left for breakfast. I know you don't want to, Sherlock, but you need to eat something." Another soft kiss, this one longer as he let his tongue dart out to run across his husband's bottom lip. God, he was insatiable after the hand job in the inlet this morning.
Sherlock was about to argue with John about eating but the second kiss distracted him. He leaned over to resume kissing his husband. He didn't care who was around to see it. He added tongue pretty much immediately, breathing through his nose so it could last longer. He shifted so as to be at a better angle, his arms coming to wrap around John in a hug.
John should have cared because they were in public but everybody here knew about them, knew they were married, and sod it, he wanted to kiss Sherlock. He pressed against Sherlock, sucking at his tongue eagerly. There, distraction. He had done his job very well. Maybe now he would eat a bit. He couldn't help a small moan that came from his chest as he took a breath through his nose and moved his tongue to tangle with his husband's.
Oh God. John was moaning. Sherlock pressed into his husband, hoping to get his partner to lay down so he could easily straddle John. He continued the kiss, making it a bit more aggressive now. His fingers began scratching lightly at his husband's bare chest. "Want to shag you," he whispered against John's lips.
Right. John rolled to rest on his back after the small nudge, his hand pulling desperately at Sherlock's pants. God, he wanted to shag but they couldn't tonight, not with his husband being exhausted. Plus there was nothing he had to collect any oil from the cooking fish. He slowly opened his eyes and studied his husband, a sheepish smile growing on his lips. "Tomorrow at dinner we will have more fish. I can find a shell while we are hunting tomorrow to collect the oil. Can you wait?" He asked softly, his hand moving to rub at Sherlock's cheekbone.
Sherlock whimpered from the hand tugging at his pants. Wait? Oh right. He managed to smirk down at John. "Guess I'll have to, won't I?" He gave his husband another quick kiss before rolling off and laying on his back in the sand. He turned his head too look at John. "I love you." He reached out a hand and took his husband's, giving it a slight squeeze.