Hello everyone who decided this was good enough to read the third chapter! Sorry it took so long but with school starting and everything... This chapter might be a tad bit boring but it had to happen please stay with me the next one will be better. This one was basically setting up for future chapters so please don't lose faith in me yet. I love reviews so if you like or don't like it please tell me whats up. I've got to put a little disclaimer here so I do not own Sherlock I just own this story that I am very happy with and hopefully you guys are too.
Chapter 3
Holmes
The next morning, John felt quite at ease for the first time in a long time. Most nights he would have nightmares and wake up in a cold sweat. When this happened he could never get back to sleep. But after all the time he spent with Sherlock, not worrying not caring about anything but that glorious man, he had slept soundly.
When he came down for breakfast he found Sherlock in his armchair twiddling with some dials on his precious camera. By the state of his robes John could tell that he probably hadn't went to sleep at all that night. At the sound of footsteps Sherlock turned his head and smiled when he saw John, "I was thinking of paying that old bench of yours a visit today."
John headed to the fridge and found what he had expected, nothing. "Yeah? I was thinking more along the lines of heading to the shop for at least something to eat."
"That thought hadn't crossed my mind." the younger man got up and walked into the kitchen opposite his flat mate. "But then again my mind has been on other things lately."
John felt that this comment was directed towards him and he was quite flattered by it. He smirked and looked up at the tall man smiling at him.
"Well you can sort out your thoughts while I go to the shop." John began to head back to his room when Sherlock stopped him.
"Mind if I come? I mean I have a few things I would like to get."
"Yeah of course. I'll just go get dressed then." John went up to his bedroom, got dressed, and came back to the kitchen all within ten minutes.
Sherlock of course was still in his bath robes admiring his camera. He looked up at John when he came back noticed immediately that he was still in his bath robes and got up to change. Unlike John, Sherlock was very concerned with how he looked. He returned to the kitchen in less than an hour but he had a very disgruntled look on his face.
"What could have possibly taken you so long?" John was quite irritated with him at the moment.
"Have you seen my scarf? I can't find it anywhere." He began searching the room with no luck.
"Couldn't you just not where it? Not like it's that cold outside anyway." John didn't really think it mattered if he had on a scarf or not but Sherlock seemed to think otherwise. He shot John an irritated look and continued his search but to no avail. He let out a large sigh and shook his head.
"I feel naked without my scarf!" He raised his head and looked above him as if his scarf would magically appear on the ceiling.
John couldn't stop the image that popped into his head at that comment. He blushed and closed his eyes trying to clear his mind but it only made it worse. His cheeks burned pink as he squeezed his eyes tighter, he pictured a patient with a nasty infection, that got the image away quickly enough. What the bloody hell was that all about?! he thought to himself after silently clearing his mind of a scandalous Sherlock.
"C'mon don't be such a drama queen we can get you another scarf." still blushing from his thoughts John led the way down the stairs. He heard Sherlock mumble something that sounded like "But I love that scarf.' and decided it was better to just ignore his comment.
When they got outside Sherlock hailed a cab. John was amazed at how he never failed to get one within seconds. They hopped in gave the address and settled into the back of the cab.
"So what did you want to get?" John asked checking his wallet making sure he had enough money for the cabbie and groceries.
"Hm?" The younger man had been distracted by something and didn't hear what he said.
"You said you wanted to get a few things. What were they?" He was only half paying attention but he managed to catch the question this time.
"Oh, right. Yeah, I wanted some apples." He was still staring out the window a new distraction catching his eye.
"Apples?"
After a few seconds he finally turned towards John, the thing that had distracted him was growing smaller in the distance, "Yes apples. I'm very fond of them."
John couldn't help but let out a small laugh that he failed to stifle, "You're very fond of apples?"
Sherlock smiled at John's amusement of his statement, "I am. When I was young my mother would buy them for my brothers and I because we never ate anything else."
This took John aback. He had never heard anything said about Sherlock's family, nothing of them mentioned in all the conversations they had in the two short months they had known each other. They were a mystery to John, what were they like? where they kind? where they strict on their children? He could imagine a little Sherlock Holmes being scolded for daydreaming in school. And had he said brothers? surely he had. What on earth could they look like? Images of a younger and an older boy both resembling Sherlock filled John's head. He could see three boys with dark hair and pale skin, high cheekbones and fierce eyes. Then he imagined a father and a mother both with the same features. Imagining Sherlock's family was odd enough seeing as he never spoke of them, but a question arose that made John stop. Would they like me?
But that didn't matter did it? They were simply friends, flatmates. Many parents didn't approve of their children's friends. But John couldn't help but feel like he wanted them to like him, if they ever met that is. And now he was interested. He very much wanted to meet the parents of this strange human being. If that's even what he was.
But John didn't have enough time to ask about his family because they had arrived at the shop.
Two hours, four grocery bags, and a half full fridge later John threw himself into his armchair stretched his legs out and closed his eyes. He knew it wasn't easy keeping Sherlock's attention for long but he didn't think it would be hard to take him shopping. How very wrong he was.
The second they got there Sherlock saw a homeless man and insisted on staring at him for five minutes because he didn't have his camera and he wanted to remember every detail. Then when they finally got into the store they stood by the apples for ten minutes while Sherlock decided which ones he wanted. Some where too bright he had said, some to dull. After an hour of him deciding which foods were up to his standards they spent another hour looking around the clothing stores for a scarf. He wanted one exactly like the one he had because he didn't like the feel of these or the color of those. John was ready to punch him by the second hour but they had finally found a scarf and made their way back to the flat. All John wanted at that moment was a nice long nap, but Sherlock was too hyper to let that happen.
"Fancy a trip to the park?" He was standing next to John's chair still in his coat, sporting his new scarf.
John looked up at the younger man, he wanted nothing more than for him to calm down. He figured the only way for that to happen was if he did what the man wanted.
"Why not?" John got up slowly, the hyper man was halfway down the stairs already. John didn't expect to be waited on as he slumped down the stairs, but to his surprise Sherlock was waiting for him at the front door with a smile on his face and his camera in his hand.
...
The park was fairly empty for a Saturday, but next week was Halloween so everyone was most likely out getting ready for that. It was nice though, the boys could talk without fear of interruption or of being overheard. Not that anything they were saying shouldn't be overheard just that John didn't really like people sticking there noses in other people's business. That's why he tried to avoid crowded places, he was a very reserved man, unless you made him angry. Then you should fear for you life and get away as fast as you can. But really all he wanted to do was find out about Sherlock's family, the one that he let slip actually exist.
John didn't know how Sherlock felt about the subject, he didn't want to make him mad if he didn't want to talk about them, he just wanted to know. He was sure that Sherlock would tell him if he wanted but there was only one way to find out.
"Sherlock, why do you never talk about your family?" the question didn't seem to catch him off guard, in fact he smiled at it. He didn't seem aggravated or angry and that was a good thing.
"I've been waiting for you to ask me about them all day." He was still smiling, looking off into the distance. John could tell his mind was venturing to other places.
"Why? I mean how did you know I would ask?"
"Because I mentioned them in the cab, I saw the look on your face. You wanted to ask. I guess it just wasn't the right place." he was still smiling. His smile gave John confidence, he knew now that any questions put forth would be answered and there wouldn't be an issue.
"So ask away! I've got nothing to hide." Sherlock held up his arms as if to show that he wasn't literally hiding anything.
"Well I guess I just want to know about them. What they do, what they're like." John looked around the almost empty park. He didn't really think he would get this far so he hadn't thought out what he wanted to say.
"Well to answer your first question, there's really not much to talk about. My elder brother Mycroft is the head of several major companies, he knows everything and everyone, or at least he thinks he does. Mum and Dad are retired, they live in the country somewhere." He smirked, obviously satisfied with his short answer but John wasn't.
"You said you had more than one brother. What about the other one? What's he like?" John didn't' want a detailed description in writing but he wanted as much as Sherlock was willing to give.
"Oh," his smirk faded away to a grim expression, he looked down at the camera in his hands then back up at John. "We don't really keep in touch with him any more. He moved away the moment he could and we haven't seen him since."
He was obviously not comfortable talking about this distant brother of his so John didn't press the matter any further. He knew all he needed to know for now and they sat quietly listening to the distant chirping of birds and the hum of insects.
After a while John was getting hungry. Knowing Sherlock hadn't eaten anything today he was determined to get some food in him. So they headed back to the flat, Sherlock reluctantly. When they got back tea was made by John, and an apple was eaten by Sherlock.
Halfway through their 'meal' Sherlock looked at John and sat his half-eaten apple on the counter. "John I never told you thank you." John looked at him, he was slightly caught off guard.
Sherlock looked a little nervous his face was a bit paler than usual. John wasn't sure but he looked like he might cry, he felt the sudden urge to touch him. To place his hands on his slim shoulders and let him know that whatever it was, whatever he wanted to say, it was ok to say. John didn't like the look on his flatmates face. He wanted to comfort the younger man, but didn't want to overstep his boundaries, whatever that might mean to him.
Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat and continued, "Thank you for being... my friend. Thank you for listening to me. It's very hard to have all these thoughts in here," he pointed to his head then scratched at it as though he was trying to get something out, "and not have someone to voice them to. It's lonely, I was lonely. I never really had any friends." He looked at John as if to ask if it was ok to continue, he obviously didn't want to overstep his boundaries either.
John gave him a silent nod and he slowly went on, "Now I'm not so bored all the time. Not so lonely. And I just wanted to let you know that i'm grateful for that. For everything that you have done for me. It may not seem like much to you but to me it is." He was silent a moment, he caught himself looking at John's hands and looked away before he noticed.
John didn't know quiet what to say, but soon enough he found the words and blurted them out. "I never told you thank you either Sherlock."
Sherlock looked at John, there was the faintest of smiles appearing on his face, he stayed silent though, allowing John to continue. And so he did.
"I've never met anyone like you before..." he was struggling with words. He wasn't very good at this sort of thing and he didn't do it often. But it was Sherlock and John felt like he could say anything to him. "And you have showed me the world... from your eyes that is, and I just wanted to say thank you for showing me that the world isn't all just boring everyday things. It's so much more than that, its... its... its beautiful. And I never would have seen that.. if it weren't for you."
Sherlock looked as if he wanted to do something but thought better of it, instead he looked at John, at his eyes. For a moment the two men just looked at each other, both minds going in different directions but ultimately coming to the same conclusion.
They both knew what was happening, Sherlock of course had realized much sooner than John but they both understood.
There was a painful urge to be closer to one another, but neither moved. Both waiting for the other.
Why the hell is he just sitting there looking at me like that?! John's fingers were twitching, almost reaching out to the younger man in front of them, standing here was doing neither of them any good. To hell with this! If he won't do anything I damn sure will! And he moved.
