Sherlock arrived at the café with John in tow only to find out that it was closed that day. For about an hour, he paced outside of it, trying to figure out what he should do. John wound up sitting around doing his homework for that time. Finally, Sherlock stopped and looked back at him.
"John," he called out.
"What is it?" John inquired, looking up.
"Have you ever worked at a café?"
John nodded. "Yeah, why?"
"Do they usually keep records of their regulars?" he inquired.
"Um… well, some places have a wall where they post photos of their regulars," John advised.
Sherlock gazed at the door. "We're breaking in," he stated.
"What?"
"Come on."
With that, Sherlock headed around to the back. John sighed but followed nonetheless, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he rounded the corner. Sherlock had already pried open a window and slipped inside before opening the side door for John. Once they were in, they headed to the main area.
"Nothing," Sherlock snarled as he looked around the room.
John looked back. "There might be something in the kitchen," he said. "A cheat sheet for new employees."
Without a word, Sherlock rushed back into the kitchen. "Ah ha!" he called out, and John opened the door to see him over at a board. "Let's see here. Let's see."
Walking over, John looked over the photos as well, immediately disregarding the ones with only one person in them. One was a mother and son. Another was a pair of Dependents – obviously best friends.
"Found it," Sherlock murmured before pulling off a picture.
John looked over and found him holding a photo of two women. "Seriously?"
"Definitely," Sherlock stated before flipping it over. "Mrs Emma and Rachel Stevenson."
"Are you sure?" John pressed, still unable to believe it. These two women were young, attractive, and so friendly-looking. Honestly, they looked like they would be people who would be actively against harming others. He couldn't picture them brutally murdering these Dependents in such a fashion.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Am I sure?"
"S-sorry. I just… I don't see it," John replied.
"You will," Sherlock stated before putting the photo back up where it belonged. "Come on. We better go."
John nodded. "Go where?"
"I've solved the case," Sherlock stated. "Now, it's time for the Yard to do their job."
"So what? You're just going to go to NSY and give them names and let them try to put everything together themselves?" John pressed.
Leaving through the back, Sherlock replied, "Of course not. I will be there when they bring the pair in and interrogate them. And also when they finally find the evidence they need to support what I know. If I just gave them names, they would still be entirely inept."
John tried not to laugh. "Thank God you're so merciful to them," he teased.
"Yes. They owe me," he stated matter-of-factly. "They don't know how lucky they are."
"Should I come with you?" John inquired. "Or should I just head back home and see you in class?"
Sherlock opened up the cab door. "Don't be stupid," he remarked.
John smiled and slipped inside. "So why them?" he inquired, looking over at Sherlock. "Why do you think it's them?"
"No eye crinkles," Sherlock answered.
"I beg your pardon?" John replied.
Sherlock looked over at him and smiled. "Look at my eyes." John looked up at them. "Do you notice any wrinkles?" Shaking his head, John waited for an explanation. "That's how you know it's a fake smile. Real joy causes for the skin around your eyes to crinkle. In every single one of those photos, there were no crinkles, because who actually experiences joy when their photo is taken? All of them except for that one. And only by one of the women in the photo. She was experiencing true joy by being in that café."
"That doesn't mean that–" John started to say.
"She had just found her next victim," Sherlock stated.
Blinking, John balked at him. "How do you know that?"
"Because it happened to be taken on the day before the second murder," Sherlock responded. "Time stamp on the top, right-hand corner proved that."
John replied, "Still! You can't just jump to conclusions like that."
"You can't," Sherlock corrected. "My mind, however, is different from yours. Vastly different."
John stared at him before looking out of the window. He watched as he passed everyone else by. Eventually, they made it back to New Scotland Yard, but he didn't get out of the cab. "I think I should probably return home."
"John, come," Sherlock stated before getting out of the cab. "I'll secure an interrogation room for you to do your homework in."
Hesitating, John looked at him. "I'm not stupid," he declared, still irritated from their previous conversation.
"I never meant to insinuate that," Sherlock responded. "By all means, you are not an idiot, but you are no genius. We both know that." John pressed his lips together, causing Sherlock to sigh. "John, I want you as my Dependent. Trust me when I say that I don't want just anyone."
John was satisfied with that, knowing it was as good as an apology. "Fine," he finally murmured before getting out. "But I want my interrogation room. I really can't let my grades drop because I'm running around with you."
"If you want, I could email your professors and explain what is going on," Sherlock answered as they entered NSY headquarters. "I'm sure my colleagues would understand your hands-on internship and training."
Laughing, John replied, "Is that what this is?"
"It's always been this," Sherlock answered as he opened the door for John. "What came of it was entirely unintentional."
John smiled. "Well, it's good to know that I wasn't duped into this."
"Or if you were, I'm not about to admit to it," Sherlock jested.
This caused John to hesitate a moment before heading inside. Once they made it to Lestrade's office, Sherlock and Lestrade exchanged some words while John waited outside. Lestrade offered John his office to work in as they followed up the lead, which John was grateful for. Spreading out on Lestrade's desk, John went to work as Sherlock and Lestrade headed off.
Time ticked by slowly. Suddenly, John looked up and out through the glass wall at everyone bustling about. Heart skipping a beat, John allowed a thought to emerge to the forefront of his mind. This could be his life. Not in the sense of if he was choosing, but that he could see himself living this life. Frequent visits to see Lestrade and doing his work at New Scotland Yard. Sherlock always by his side as they run around London together. Catching criminals and always living in the present. Never knowing what the next minute might bring.
John sat back and soaked this all in. Since meeting Sherlock Holmes, his life had improved tenfold easily. Even as a Dependent. John knew he wasn't as depressed as he used to be. In fact, he was even more confident in himself, even when others knew he was a Dependent. Sherlock seemed to bring out the best in him. And, although he wouldn't say he brought out the best in Sherlock, he definitely felt that he was what Sherlock needed. Someone who would push back. Someone who would challenge him.
But then there was the display. Since John was young, he had always been fearful of being displayed. It was a rite of passage, he knew, but being fucked in front of other people had never appealed to him. He doubted that Sherlock would give a public display, but who would be present for the private one? It had to be at least two people, and Sherlock didn't seem to like his brother enough. Perhaps Lestrade would be one then? John didn't think he would mind that as much – a Dependent there. A Dependent who would understand. Oh, God, if Mrs Hudson was there, though, John never would be able to live it down.
Even so, Sherlock would probably take John's opinion into consideration. Hell, Sherlock probably wouldn't care enough about it and let John make all of the decisions. But he didn't have to worry about it right now. He was still just toying with the idea of Sherlock claiming him.
"John," Sherlock called out as he ripped open the door. "They've separated the Dependent from the Independent. Come with me."
John got up and followed him out. "Where are we going?"
"To listen in." Sherlock brought him into an adjoining room to one of the women. "She's the Dependent. Emma Stevenson."
Looking at her, John could see how anxious she was. She was folded in on herself and pushed away from the table. Wringing her hands, she refused to make eye contact with anyone in the room – not even her own reflection. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"That's painful," John murmured. "She's so blatantly lying. Does she actually think they'll believe her?"
Sherlock chuckled. "Of course she does," he answered. "But until they make her feel safe, she's not going to open up. But I guarantee you that she wanted nothing to do with this. Her Independent is probably threatening her."
John frowned as he heard that. "I can't even imagine. An Independent is supposed to be the one person you can depend on no matter what. To find that person to be the source of fear and agony…"
"I would never do that to you," Sherlock suddenly cut in.
"I didn't think you would," John replied.
Sherlock hummed. "I just thought that I should state it."
"And even if you tried it, you must know that I wouldn't tolerate it."
Chuckling, Sherlock nodded. "That's why it could only be you."
"I still haven't said that I would," John pointed out.
"You still haven't said that you wouldn't either."
John said nothing in reply, instead opting to pay attention to the interrogation. Her body language had changed, and she was opening up far more now. Obviously, Donovan was getting her to relax. She eventually began to explain that she couldn't say anything. If her Independent found out about it, she would be punished severely. Donovan soothed her, explaining that if she knew about it that they would keep her safe. Her Independent would go to jail for the rest of her life, but she could hide behind the Dependent laws recently enacted.
"She's going to confess now," Sherlock whispered.
Sure enough, Emma began to explain everything. After being claimed for a month, she began to see something different in her Independent. She began to exert her power over Emma, and she started to resent Dependents who refused to submit to their "natural state."
"Relax," Sherlock said, touching John's shoulder. John hadn't realized just how tense he had gotten until then.
Relax.
Relaxing, John leaned into the touch slightly. "It just irks me to hear that. We're not doormats!"
Sherlock said nothing in reply as Emma continued with her explanation. At first, she thought that her Independent would just help Dependents find an Independent, almost like a matchmaker. She thought they might open up more to Emma since they were both Dependents, but most who weren't claimed had no interest. That's when she started to get angry. She began to lash out at Emma, who started to fear her more. That's when it began to morph into something dangerous. Before she knew it, it was either them or her, and she wasn't about to die for strangers. She just lured the Dependents out somewhere for Rachel to kill.
"We're done here," Sherlock stated before pulling John out of the room.
Staggering behind him, John looked at Sherlock, watching his coat flutter behind him with each assured step. He paused a moment. Even behind him, John still felt like an equal. Sherlock wasn't leading him. He trusted him to have his back. And John knew that he could trust Sherlock to have his.