Authornotes: Just want to apologize for any mistakes in the following chapter. I have read it through tons of times, but I bet I've missed a lot anyway. I hope you can see past that though and enjoy it anyway.
Also, I wanted to say that it might take a little longer for the next chapter. I have a lot of schoolwork right now and it's really time I start studying a little, so please be patient!


At first John had thought that Sherlock didn't like him and was trying to get rid of him. But the more time they'd spent together John had realized that Sherlock just was... Well, Sherlock and he seemed to have a LOT of issues where addiction only was one of them.

John had always been drawn to people who where troubled or needed help in one way or another, so you could say that Sherlock was his ideal guy. Then there was also the fact that he was ridiculously handsome. His perfect black curls, his grey eyes and those wrinkles round them when he smiled. It was probably the most beautiful face John had ever seen.

He shook his head. What was wrong with him, sitting and fantasizing about a guy during class. John wasn't gay. He'd never been attracted to another bloke before, and he was very confused now that he had a major crush on one.

"Are you coming?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

John had been so deep into his own thoughts that he hadn't heard the bell ring, or even noticed that the whole class had gone already.

"Yeah, sorry. This was the last class for the day right?" He asked quickly, trying to ignore that lovestruck mind of his.

"Yes." Sherlock stated as John started to gather his things, fumbling a little since he couldn't move his left shoulder properly. He saw Sherlock looking at him impatiently, his brows slightly furrowed as if he was worried about something.

When John was finished Sherlock walked away towards the stairs, but then suddenly turned around again to face him.

"You where in a military school before. Why did you switch school? Injury?" He suddenly asked.

John looked up in shock. How could he possibly know that? He hadn't told anybody as far as he knew.

"How the bloody hell do you know that?"

"Obvious. The way you hold yourself, and your muscle mass say hard training. Most young people don't train as hard and precisely as you have unless they have are forced to. Therefore - military school."

"Wow."

"And the injury?"

"Anterior dislocation in the shoulder." John replied slightly blushing at the memory.

"Of course. That explains your limited movements. So you want to be an army doctor then?"

"Yes. How did you know that too? Are you stalking me or something?"

"No. I noticed in Biology class that you where utterly bored since you already knew everything and only seemed interested when the teacher said something that doctors have to know."

"Right. Well in my previous school we where trying to do biology as quickly as possible so that we could be let off. That way we could focus more on military training the last year, so I have already done all this. But I certainly don't mind some repetition when it comes to things that might come in handy for studying at Bart's."

"Obviously there was something shameful about the way you got injured." Sherlock stated totally out of context, watching John closely.

"No, not really. Why would you think that?"

"Since you blushed."

"You're brilliant."

"You think so?" Sherlock asked showing an expression of surprise, though it lasted for less then a second.

"Yes. Quite extraordinary really."

"About that injury, you don't seem very keen on talking about it." Sherlock answered trying not to show that he actually was flattered.

John sighed. He'd already gotten used to Sherlock's behavior.

"It's just that the kids from my school called it heroic. But it got me expelled. Stupid really."

"Oh, tackled a teacher did you?" Sherlock smirked, very pleased with himself.

"He deserved it." John stated, trying to defend himself.

Sherlock looked at him curiously, but John decided to ignore it. He wasn't especially proud of what he had done, even though there was a good reason for it.

The boys had made their way downstairs and where now exiting the main entrance. They made their way through the big park and headed out on a big street with heavy traffic. John felt like stepping into another century when leaving the quiet park and old-fashioned school behind and walking into a street with huge traffic jams so suddenly.

They had made it about five inches from the park gate when they heard somebody shouting Sherlock's name behind them. They turned around and John could se a thin brown-haired girl running towards them. He recognized her from one of his classes, but couldn't really place her.

"Ah. Molly." Sherlock said when the girl came up to them.

"I got those things you asked for from daddy's office earlier." She said while trying to catch her breath.

"Excellent." Sherlock stated with a small smirk on his lips. He took a small plastic bag from the girl's hands and started checking it thoroughly, pulling out small glass bottles and mumbling to himself.

"I'll just, you know. Leave you to it then." Molly said a little insecurely, and when she didn't get an answer she left looking slightly disappointed.

Suddenly Sherlock also started to walk away, leaving John without a word. John stood there not knowing what to do. He looked around trying to figure out where he was since he still didn't know London very well, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Sherlock standing there with a serious expression on his face. He'd come back, and John let out a sigh of relief when he realized he hadn't been left alone after all.

"You've run away from teachers a lot right?" Sherlock asked, expression not changing.

"You could say that, yeah."

"Fancy some running from the police?"

"God, yes." John answered, following Sherlock to wherever they where going.


REMEMBER, REVIEWS ARE SOMETHING GOOD. NOT BAD. GOOD. EVEN IF YOU CRITICIZE MY ARSE OFF, REVIEWS ARE STILL SOMETHING GOOD.