(When reading this chapter, I recommend that you listen With A Little Help From My Friends by The Beatles.)
"It's easy, John. Look here." Sherlock pointed a slender finger at a picture of the human body. John had always struggled with biology, but when Sherlock explained it to him, it felt so different. He liked to be near him, even if it just meant that they were studying together for the upcoming test.
For a while they sat together at the floor, reading. Every now and then John took a few notes from the book. Biology had never been this interesting, but John had some problems concentrating, as his thoughts always seemed to go back to his curly haired flat mate who sat opposite him. He felt a slight discomfort in form of nervousness. This was indeed strange. He'd never felt that way around the other classmates. Perhaps it was Sherlock's personality? He acted cold and indifferent to most situations, though he seemed to be more comfortable around John.
Without looking, John reached out his hand to get his eraser. He could feel Sherlock's fingers gently brushing the top of his hand. John quickly pulled his arm away.
"You can have it first." Sherlock said and returned to his biology book.
John looked at the young man sitting on the floor in a slightly worn t-shirt that was at least two sizes to big.
"Your hand is cold." He said with a sigh.
"I'll manage, don't think about it." Sherlock said without looking up from his book. He knew that if John failed the test, he would fail the entire Biology class. John seemed to be different from the rest of the student. He wasn't ignorant nor did he take knowledge for granted. He was a fast learner, but most important; he didn't judge Sherlock for being different.
Sherlock could feel something around his shoulder. He looked up. John had fetched him a woolen blanket.
Sherlock frowned, confused. "You didn't have-"
"I just don't want you to catch a cold." John interrupted him.
More wasn't said about the matter, but from that moment, the two boys grew closer as friends, and soon they were nearly inseparable.
The night before the biology test, John suffered from yet another nightmare. Memories of his old life, flashed in front of him. He could feel the burning pain as the whip touched his already sore back. He felt unable to breathe as he was hit countless times by his father. Words echoed in his head throughout the dream, words with the voice of his father that told him that he was nothing but a failure, a worthless and a bad excuse for a son and that they would be better off without him.
John woke up, covered in sweat. He was breathing heavily. His heart was beating fast and he couldn't seem to calm down. The nightmares had gotten worse and worse over the past few months. The memories became more and more real, and he couldn't make it stop.
"John?" A dark, tired voice mumbled.
"It's nothing" John whispered due to what felt like lack of air.
He sat like that for a little while, trying to calm down enough so that he could get some sleep, even though it wasn't very tempting due to his countless nightmares.
Little did he know that this was just the start, that escaping from his old life wasn't the same as escaping the memories and the pain.
Still, this situation was different. This time he wasn't alone. He had someone by his side.
Eventually he fell asleep again, this time peacefully.
6am John woke up when a pair of cold hands carefully touched his shoulders.
"John, you're gonna be late for school."
John opened his eyes and rubbed them before he realized how much he had actually overslept.
"You could have woken me up before, Sherlock!" John shouted at his friend as he ran across the apartment for his clothes and school supplies.
"I did. You didn't seem to pay attention, so I didn't bother." Sherlock said. A hint of humor could be sensed in his voice.
"YOU DIDN'T BOTHER?!" John shouted even louder before he stuffed almost an entire banana in his mouth.
"Shall we go?" John said, breathing heavily.
"John… Your shirt is inside out." Sherlock said calmly, trying to hide a smile.
John kept mumbling incomprehensible as he pulled of his shirt and put it on again, this time the right way.
His hair was still scruffy, as he didn't have time to fix it, and the sleeves on his shirt were rolled up, revealing what was left of his bruises and a few scars, but right now he only thought about the test.
They walked through the same old white hallway, through endless corridors before they finally came to their classroom. Luckily for them both, they were just in time for the test.
John gave Sherlock a murderous look as they sat down in the back of the classroom, but Sherlock ignored it. The teacher immediately started the test, so for the rest of the day, neither of them was able to say a single word to the other,
