DO NOT OWN! How will Sherlock react in a restaurant?
It had been several weeks since Sherlock had been changed, and except one or two trips to the park where SHerlock invariably spent most of his time attached to the side of whichever adult was with him; he remained in the flat. His social anxiety was even worse than when he was an adult especially since he hadn't trained himself to have a sharp tongue to counteract his own nervousness.
As much as it pained John and Mary to force someone into a situation they were uncomfortable with, they knew that it was the only way to ease him a bit and teach him better habits to deal with his fear rather than a hurtful words to cut people down before they could cut him down. It was with that decision that they decided every week they would take him out to the public somewhere. Of course they would start somewhere simple where there were people around but not a lot of chance for contact with others. They had finally decided to take him to Angelo's. They were hoping, as with other things, his subconscious would remember the place and help him calm a bit. All the two adults needed to do was tell Sherlock what they were doing.
Unfortunately they hadn't yet approached him about their plans and with two hours before they were set to leave to make their reservations, they stood staring at the boy from the doorway of the kitche. He was seated on the floor in front of the coffee table. He had a pencil in his left hand, his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth. Hamish sat on the table beside him as he looked at him every once in a while. Sherlock had taken it upon himself to learn to use both hands in any task. He had already mastered writing with both hands, now he wanted to attempt drawing. Even as a seven year old his drawings were precise and accurate. John wondered what the adult Sherlock's skills were like if he was this good now. With his less dominant hand no less.
They both knew that Sherlock knew they were standing there staring at him. It finally seemed that he couldn't take it any more. He looked up at them, piercing eyes taking in the both of them. They widened a little and he bit his lip just a bit.
"There's something you wanth tho thell me buth you don'th know how I will reacth." He said matter of factly reaching blindly for his bee for comfort.
Well the look of barely disguised fear settled it. THey had to tell him now or be as bad as his parents and torture him with the wait, thinking he had done something wrong. The two of them went and sat on either side of the boy on the couch. John helped him up, and Sherlock crawled into Mary's lap, looking John in the eye correctly assuming he was the one giving the news.
"Its nothing terrible Sherlock. You're not in trouble, we're not leaving you, no ones hurt." He went down the normal list of fears that plagued his young son. Yes HIS son. "We have simply decided that you need to start going out more and face your fear of people." Sherlock's eyes widened if possible even more and he fisted a hand in Mary's shirt, knuckles white.
"No don't look like that, we'll be with you every step of the way. You just need to be able to go out in public and deal with your anxiety. Without making them feel like idiots." He added for good measure, although this Sherlock hadn't done that yet.
Hesitantly the boy nodded a bit, eyes more curious now than frightened knowing his surrgate parents would be there.
"We are going to take you to a restaurant the first few times, not a lot of people interaction but they will be around." He cupped SHerlock's face in his hands to be sure the boy was listening. "We are not doing this to hurt you or upset you. We want you to be able to go out unafraid that someone will hurt you. We will always protect you." Sherlock picked up his hand and placed it over one of John's squeezing it a bit.
"Okay Daddy." He said simply, before sliding off John's lap and running into his room.
The adults shared a confused look before following him down the hall. As they stepped into the room, they weren't sure whether to laugh or cry. Sherlock was standing a suit in hand, already trying to rip off his tshirt.
Mary walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. He helped Sherlock and placed his shirt back on.
"What are you doing love?" She asked, holding back a giggle at his mussed hair and confused stare.
"Getthing dressed for dinner?"
"You're fine in what you are in dear."
Sherlock looked if possible even more quizzical. "Buth I thoughth ith was demeaning tho the adulths if a child didn'th look their besth? I don'th wanth everyone tho look down on you because of me." HIs voice went up an octave clearly upset that he was going to hurt their reputation in some way.
Mary pulled him so he stood between her knees and looked down at him lovingly. "Dearest one, who told you that?"
Sherlock's eyes moved as he thought for a second before looking back at her. "Them." He said simply knowing she would understand.
"Correct. Now have we done everything or acted in any way like them before this."
"NO!" He yelped acting afraid that he would offend them.
"Correct again. You are in a nice pair of slacks and a clean neat t shirt. There is no need to dress up anymore. You're daddy is going just how he is now, I think you have him beat in the fancy department."
"OI!" John said as Sherlock turned to study him in his worn jeans and tan sweater. He saw a smile form on Sherlock's. "You watch it kiddo or I may find one of these for you to wear as well."
The boys face went slack. "You wouldn't!" He said in horror. John walked forward and knelt down next to the boy, he rubbed his nose lovingly against Sherlock's who scrunched his face adorably. "Oh I think you know I would."
Smiling finally Sherlock looped his arms around John's neck. John hugged him back.
"Now we leave in a couple hours. In the mean time why don't you finish Hamish's portrait, and we'll hang it on the fridge hmm?" Sherlock ran from the room excitedly at the mention of Hamish being displayed in such a prominent way.
The beginning of their journey was a little harrowing. It was dinner time for most people so the sidewalks were full. Sherlock nearly tripped over their feet as he clutched their pant legs. He was definitely beginning to fall into a panic attack as his eyes unconsciously deduced everyone that he saw. John suddenly wondered if he had his Mind Palace yet. Filing that away for later in the evening when they were home again, he caught Sherlock looking up at him pleadingly. This was probably the fifth time, and John wasn't quite sure what the boy was asking for. He knew that he would never ask to go home after the speech they had given him. He'd offered his hand to the boy but he had refused it because he was walking behind John's legs and it would have been an awkward position.
"Excuse me mate." A man said and John sidestepped, watching the man carrying his daughter through the...OH! Of course. Stopping suddenly, Sherlock ran into his knees before backing up. Mary stopped as well tilting her head at him in question.
"I know what he wants." He mouthed to her, she simply nodded and waited. Turning John scooped the boy up and tucked him securely onto his hip. He felt Sherlock relax immediately and lay his head on John's chest.
"Thank you daddy." He said quietly as if John had granted him the biggest favor in the world.
"Of course Sherlock. Next time just ask, I'm not as smart as you. I can't read people."
"Noth thrue." He said fiercly. "You and mommy are smarther in other ways. Ways thath are more importhanth than chemisthry." He added bitterly.
John nodded. "You are right, we may know more things than you in other areas but it isn't more important. Its important in a different way. You are a very intelligent, sweet boy and I wouldn't have you any other way."
"You either." Sherlock said, John could feel his smile against his neck as Sherlock tucked his head there, peaking over his shoulder at the crowds behind them. He shifted and twitched every once and a while and John was sure he hadn't done the Mind Palace yet. Definitely something to work on later.
They finally arrived at the restaurant and Angelo himself showed them to their seats.
"As usual anything you want free." He nodded at John and winked at the boy who actually giggled a bit and winked back. Leaving them with their menu's he wondered off so they could decide their drinks. He knew John was good for Sherlock, the man had been changed each time the two of them came in. That's why he extended the same courtesy to the doctor as he had the consulting detective. He was glad that Sherlock wasn't alone anymore.
"Well Sherlock, what would you like to drink." John asked turning the menu the boys hand to the drinks and pointing. Sherlock looked up at him slack jawed a moment.
"I- you mean I get to choose what I want?" He asked voice squeaking in disbelief.
"Of course you do, I suppose you weren't allowed to when you went out with Them." Mary asked fighting the anger out of her voice.
"I uh well thath is..." The boy trailed off, his face going bright red in embarrassment, Hamish, who he insisted come migrating towards his mouth at his anxiety.
"What is it Sherlock, you can tell us?" John said gently cupping his free hand in his own.
"I've never been tho a resthauranth ath all. They lefth me in the closeth whenever they wenth outh with Mycrofth or someone." He said quietly and into his menu.
The adults hearts shattered. They knew his parents were cruel but this was just beyond. They left a child home alone locked away in the dark while they went out and enjoyed themselves. And people called adult Sherlock cold and unfeeling. They were really surprised he wasn't after all he'd been through. He acted like a cold ass but he wasn't and he showed it to anyone who gave him half a chance.
"Well, yes you get to choose your drink and your meal, and even your dessert." He said gruffly, swiping his eyes to get rid of any offending tears. There was no point in getting Sherlock any more upset than he was.
Sherlock finally nodded, and while still chewing on Hamish, he read through the drinks.
"Can I get chocolate milk?" He asked quietly.
"Absolutely." John said firmly.
Finally decided they only waited a moment before Angelo came back over to their table.
"Alright what'll we have to drink, how about you young lady?" He asked Mary who blushed a bit before responding that she would like a glass of red wine. "And for you mate?" John responded that he'd just have tea. "How about for you the beekeeper?" He asked the boy smiling a bit. Sherlock beamed back at him.
"Chocolathe milk please."
"Ah definitely my favorite. I'll leave you to decide on your food while I get your drinks."
As he left Mary and John looked at each other amazed. They hadn't expected Sherlock to order for himself, especially on their first trip. John felt relief though, he thought that perhaps he was correct and Sherlock's subconscious remembered Angelo.
The rest of the evening went smoothly. Sherlock had perfect table manners as always, no thanks to the beatings he probably received if they weren't perfect, the two adults thought angrily. Sherlock had decided on lasagna and dug right in when it came. When he finished he carefully wiped his face and thanked Angelo for such an amazing meal. Then he chose a piece of chocolate cake for dessert and giggled when Angelo came out with it and a scoop of ice cream with it. The boy had been more silent than they were used too and his eyes often strayed to all the people around. But when he got too nervous he reached a hand out to JOhn who grasped the tiny fingers in his own and squeezed reassuringly.
As they walked home, this time Sherlock was dozing a bit on John's chest, the man's other hand gripping his wifes, John knew in that moment that they were finally a whole family and nothing was going to destroy that. He almost giggled at what Sherlock was going to do if he became an adult again. They wouldn't be giving him up. Even as an adult Sherlock needed care, needed to be reminded to do simple things. And as deeply as John and Mary's hearts had attached to him, he wouldn't be escaping their parenting, even in his thirties. Somehow, he thought, looking down at the boys peaceful face lit by the street lamps they walked under, he was sure that adult Sherlock wouldn't be as opposed as he would want them to believe.
Placing a kiss on the dark curls, he whispered. "I love you." To the child before gripping his wife's hands tighter and weaving their way through the streets home.
Hope you enjoyed! Let's see, probably mothers day for the next one. R&R.