Note:

I know, I know. It's shorter then usually but this really had to stand on its on. This is like my field chapter in Twilight or something, the initial idea kind of which it's all come from.

But that means I haven't yet exhausted my motivation to write quota for the week so I wont have a big of a break.

Moving on. As always, a massive fist pump of appreciation to: marketeerbubbles, MaryElisabeth, keegigi, Sparkie98, dipgizzard, fishesforwishes, rumpbelle4eva, Sophwie, blackphoenix23 and lmutaski. Thank you so much for all your follows and favourites! Such attention makes me blush!

And now to the amazing reviews I got from; Anon (Guest) (here's the other chapter! :) ), a teary thanks to dipgizzard for such a kind review! MysteryintheShadows (here's what happens next!), marketeerbubbles, BelieverofManyThings (sorry for the wait) and IBelieveInSherlockH and guest for info on the English school system which is all whacked up and back to front for an Aussie like me! Seriously, although I'm sure that it's incorrect if you look too much into the time frame of this chapter, at least its closer to the truth then it was going to be! Seriously, I'm like Arthur Conan Doyle in the sense that my research for writing is basically zero.

So sit back and enjoy! Have it on me!

10

Sherlock's time in France was unexpectedly enjoyable. Mycroft and Sherlock came to some sort of terms as both found a common interest; the science of deduction, as Sherlock called it. Sherlock was naturally better at the skill, yet Mycroft posed a challenge through his experience of the world and people. Mycroft had changed, developed since the last time Sherlock really knew him. This Mycroft was calculating and slightly manipulative, and Sherlock couldn't help but be in slight awe of his older brother.

Mummy and her sister were often quietly talking, telling Sherlock to explore outside when he interrupted their hushed and hurried conversation. Snippets of their talk were over heard though, and Sherlock tried not to become concerned with parts like; "well that's men for you", and "whatever you decide Kathy, you know you'll have our full support" and the one that made Sherlock's stomach turn to ice, "you shouldn't have to put up with that! Just leave him".

Sherlock respected his Aunty. She was clever and witty with an infectious laugh and a cutting French accent. The most important aspect was the way his Aunty treated him. She took interest with what he talked about and often had discussions on scientific matters, he deduced she worked in a scientific field before then but couldn't get down to a specific so often questioned her on all topics to figure out what his Aunty did for a living. She laughed and refused to tell him, answering his constant queries with a knowing smile and a laugh when he would groan in frustration.

Sherlock liked France, the language and the culture was all very interesting and different to that of London England. He adored his Aunties modest white house with the small flower filled garden out the back were Sherlock could lay and read through his Aunties advanced scientific volumes, again trying to find the answer to her puzzle.

The three weeks went past quickly and Sherlock was getting tired of distracting his mind of home, of John. He wasn't angry anymore, just felt numb and betrayed but his ache for John's company refused to be hidden and often found himself thinking of how much more fun France would be with John.

John would love this; he would find himself thinking in moments and then mentally slapped himself. Too bad, Sherlock's thoughts would reply. John's not here and you're probably never going to talk to him ever again to tell him anyway. Sherlock's mind would sneer and his heart would sink. Sherlock knew he had over re-acted. Did he? He was right wasn't he? John shouldn't have brought someone else to their place! It was a secret, their secret. And yet, Sherlock didn't know anymore. Now he wasn't sure how to feel.

The three weeks ended and the family parted, wishing a Happy Christmas to the other and Sherlock feeling sad to be leaving along with the guilt which was building as they got closer and closer to home.

Sherlock tiredly climbed the spiral stair case and dumped his luggage in his room. It wasn't late but Sherlock was exhausted and felt strange being back home and so went to the ensuite and closed his eyes under the hot steam and current of the shower.

School was out for two weeks in regards to the Christmas holiday. Two weeks were plenty of time to decide what he was going to do about Joh-the issue. Before, he wouldn't have known or cared. Sherlock Holmes had always been along and he thought he liked it that way, John had proven otherwise. Now Sherlock felt a constant ache, as if a part of him was missing and he fought with himself to fix it. So far, pride and principal was winning, but it was killing him. Life was again pointless and Sherlock found himself drifting quietly from day-to-day, just existing. Everything became back ground noise; Mycroft talking about his University life, his father's hidden quarrels with mummy and silent threats to Sherlock, all of it was ignored as Sherlock spent his two weeks holiday making notes of all his deductions, he was beginning to become proud with his talent and looked for opportunities to practice. As in France, his mind was distracted and every time he found himself slipping Sherlock quickly tried to occupy his brain with something else and pretended that he could easily go on like this forever.

Soon the inevitable happened and John returned from his own Christmas holidays with his extended family in Manchester, Sherlock didn't recall taking note of John's absence and pretended that John's return did not make his stomach twist nervously inside and set his mind to panic.

The flag was raised everyday all day, Sherlock knew because he glanced at it every hour until dusk when John left. When their flag was taken down an immense sense of anger and pain kicked him in the stomach, leaving Sherlock muttering stupid, repeatedly under his breath to himself for letting his emotions take control and affect his mind like they did. Sherlock ignored the knock on the door as mummy begged him to come down and eat something, instead he read. Not about pirates anymore as it only reminded him of John, but about psychology and the structure of the human brain.

The first week of school was frustrating as he waited until the last-minute to ride down the path. He knew John waited for him every day at the tree where their paths split, so Sherlock delayed until John was forced to leave to not be late for school. Sherlock was then left riding like hell to make it for the first class.

Leaving school was about the same as Sherlock sprinted out the gates and road furiously home, often ridding through the trees to the creek and sitting, studying plants and the growth of frogs.

Thursday came particularly close as Sherlock approached the tree and could see someone coming down the joining path; Sherlock panicked and felt it difficult to breathe as a wave of guilt hit him. Oh how Sherlock wanted to stop and see John again. Would he be angry? Or did John miss him as much as he did. Pain won in the end as Sherlock jumped the ditch and rode into the trees and around the tree and John. Of course this couldn't continue despite Sherlock's efforts.

The resolution came about on the week of Sherlock's birthday, no specific plans were made and a birthday dinner of just Sherlock and Mummy seemed to be organised with Mycroft back at University, Sherlock couldn't have cared less.

Sherlock was in the lounge room frustrated at being treated with all the attention and indulgence being the birthday boy provided when the door bell rang. Mummy answered and Sherlock froze when he heard who was at the door. He looked around in panic, stuck between bolting and ignoring, however he didn't get the chance. His mother came through the back lounge room doors with a knowing smile.

'Guess whose here Sherlock.'

Sherlock looked up from where he sat in front of the fireplace with the test tube chemistry set his mother had given him.

'Happy Birthday Sherlock!' Susan exclaimed happily and John grumbled shyly along. The two boys avoided eye contact as their two mothers gave knowing looks.

'Would you like something to drink Susan? Tea, Coffee?'

John's mother smiled, 'That would be wonderful'. She replied and followed Sherlock's mother through to the kitchen. Mummy stopped in the doorway, 'You two can play until dinner in about an hour'.

The boys nodded, knowing that avoidance of each other for the night wouldn't be an option.

John held out a small dark blue wrapped box with a gold ribbon. Sherlock was surprised; they weren't friends anymore, why would John get him a present.

'Why did you get this? It thought we were...' Sherlock couldn't say it.

John's voice quavered, 'You got me a birthday present so...'

And just like that Sherlock forgave him; it was unexplainable that such a simple, emotionally dribbled act could create such a response. Sherlock found himself close to tears with happiness, he never felt so stupid for his behaviour over the last month. Looking into John's face, Sherlock could see he felt the same.

John smiled, 'Open it'.

Sherlock slipped off the ribbon and precisely unstuck all the sticky-tape, slowly lifting the folds and revealing a rectangular white box. He could see John looking incredibly nervous as he lifted the lid.

Sherlock slowly pulled out the two pieces, 'It's a Yin-Yang'.

'Necklace', John added. 'One person has one half, and the other person has the other. They fit perfectly together, see.'

The boys moved the two pieces together and they formed the circle, John held the white with the black spot, and Sherlock the black with the white spot. Sherlock was speechless so John explained.

'You know. In the past I've had plenty of friends, good mates. Some from my old school who I thought were my best friends. But they weren't, not like you. I feel that were made for each other, a compliment to the other person. When I'm not with you, I feel as if a chunk of me is missing, I've lost a part of me; you're my other half and I want us to remember that.'

Sherlock clasped John in a hug to hide his tears. He had been such a fool, an idiot. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and held him as the younger boy took shaky breaths.

'Thank you', Sherlock said.

John pulled away, eyes sparkling with emotion. 'I'm glad you like it'.

Sherlock looked down at the simple symbol in his hands, his half of them. 'I'm sorry John. I-I was an idiot.'

John nodded, 'I'm sorry too, I was stupid'.

Sherlock laughed, 'See that's why we're one and the same.' John also laughed then the boys put the symbol around each other's necks then held them together again, double-checking that they still fit.

Sherlock had the best birthday he could remember as the Watson's stayed for dinner with their mothers in deep gossip and Sherlock and John mucking around at the dinner table.

Both boys went to bed feeling ready to burst with the joy they felt, both boys held onto their half of their Yin-Yang as they fell asleep, with a smile on their faces.

So what happened with the gift is a personal experience. I had a fight with my best friend of 4 years for about 7 months (worst part i can even remember why) It really hurt but on her birthday at school i gave her a birthday present and we were really both shocked and I said; because you gave me one.

I can't recall if i said this already but EVERYTHING, in this story is based on a real experience either of my own or someone else's.

Thank you so much for reading. Love to hear your thoughts!