And I am back, after a schedule of what was basically summer camp, hiatus, writers block, visit a foreign country, more hiatus and writers block. And I know, I suck. Big time. I'm sorry, if it helps, but it probably doesn't.
side note- Peter capaldi? I'm sorry, haters, but two episodes in and I'm in love. He's fantastic, and I don't give a shit about your opinion.
lets see... Oh! Big time shoutout to lmargaret91, my (once again) first reviewer. You rock!
i apologize for any mistakes, this was written on a touch screen at one in the morning. Bear with me.
disclaimer: I do not own! Unfortunately.
Take me back to the creek beds we turned up
Two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me
Take me back to the time we had our very first fight
The slamming of doors instead of kissing goodnight
You stayed outside till the morning light
Oh my my my my
"So... How'd you two meet?"
It was actually almost ironic, how Sherlock Holmes met his soulmate. After all, John Watson was only doing what he knew best; protecting others.
Sherlock was a only seventeen when he started Uni- younger than any other person here, and that not only alienated him, it also made him a constant target.
It didn't matter what for- a failed test, drunken classmate, or just the need to hurt someone. But for some reason, Sherlock always seemed to get the brunt of it.
This particular time was no different.
"Faggot!"
"Freak!"
"Psycho!"
These particular boys were not very intelligent, but they were very strong; And the barrage of beatings only continued to rain down on the smaller boy, until-
"Hey! Leave him alone!"
The voice was one he'd heard only in passing; head of the football team, shorter, very attractive, if the females in his school could be trusted.
There were sounds of a scuffle, and then... Silence.
Gentler arms, touching him, holding him close, and the single sentence Sherlock would remember for the rest of his life.
"My name's John. John Watson."
Once Sherlock had started talking, it was as if the floodgates had opened, and Sherlock did not shut up. He talked about everything- from their first date (John had insisted on taking Sherlock to see a museum exhibit about old criminals; Sherlock had enjoyed it more than he expected) to highlights of their career (the idiot, Lestrade! Just standing there, so confused, as John held that gun to his head. Even went and said to him, "you're not allowed to bear arms. Oh, how we laughed after that!) and Sherlock was just telling Lestrade about how he'd asked John to marry him (after a mad dash after a criminal, almost dying repeatedly, and ending up in that park where he just got down and did it) when Sherlock's mobile rang. He picked up immediately, listened, and then turned to Lestrade, once again emotionless. Well, almost, but Lestrade could see the fear in his eyes.
"Saint Bart's. Now."
We're getting John next chapter, I promise! And I have lots and lots of angst planned...
Review! Tell me what you thought of the flashback! I must know!