Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one, apart from the following: Fredrik Jones, Theodore Wells.

JUST SO YOU KNOW: This is my FIRST attempt at Sherlock and Johnlock, so please be kind!

Please, please review XD

ALSO: I made up middle names and first names for certain characters, just so I had something to work with ^_^

Chapter 7

Sherlock

It was Christmas Eve when my 'parents' and Mycroft turned up at the door.

Mrs Watson had informed me of this the day prior, a grin on her face. None of them knew anything about my parents, so, of course, they would believe they were lovely people. So many people fell for their charm!

With only a day to prepare for their visit, I knew I would be able to provide a plausible reason for not being in the house - let alone finding somewhere else to go to wait out the intrusion. Do I had to endure it.

Fucking great...

They arrived at two in the afternoon - not a minute early, not a minute late.

Mother and Father were dressed impeccably, not even a hair out of place. Mycroft was, of course, dressed to the same standards, obviously not wanting to disobey Mummy and Daddy. The Watsons dressed far more casually, not highlighting the fact that they had the money to waste on clothes - I didn't see why my parents needed top of the range, designer anything!

I, on the other hand, had refused to get dressed.

I had been laying across the armchair - something that had been dubbed 'my' armchair - my head and legs dangling off either side, dressed in old, ratty pyjamas and a navy blue, silk dressing gown.

It hadn't been my intention to anger my parents by doing this - I had just been lying there, thinking to myself and letting my mind wander... But I could see the fire blazing in their eyes, could see how much they wanted to hit out at me - to discipline me - for being so insolent.

They didn't dare in front of the Watsons.

Mother feigned a smile, as she pretended to take an interest in what had been happening.

Father feigned a proud grin, as he heard of things I had done.

Mycroft didn't do anything, just sat there and listened to everything that was being said, occasionally glancing at me with icy eyes.

I was already hating the day.

I had managed to slip away into the kitchen, but only when they had all been busy. I was sure none of them saw me leave - I hoped none of them saw me leave...

It was quiet in the kitchen, peaceful. Yes, I could hear the muffled voices through the wall, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. Breathing a sigh of relief, I slumped into one of the chairs, resting my head on my folded arms and closing my eyes for a moment. I couldn't understand why Mother and Father felt like they needed to intrude - they had waited sixteen years to get rid of me, why would they want to come and visit? Surely they had better things to do than interrupt my life!

I couldn't have been in the room for more the three minutes when the door opened, closing quietly behind whoever had come in. It wasn't any of the Watsons - I had their walking patterns memorized. It wasn't Mother, nor Father. It wasn't Mrs Hudson.

Mycroft.

I should have known, out of all of them, Mycroft would have been the first to notice my absence.

"Honestly, Brother Mine, you are far too old to be hiding." Mycroft snorted, taking a seat from the table across from me. "I'm surprised you even attempted leaving - not to mention wearing...that."

"What do you want?" I growled, lifting my head until my chin rested on my arms, glaring at him. "I am in no mood to deal with the likes of you."

As Mycroft leaned back in the chair, he folded his arms and crossed him legs, raising an eyebrow slightly. He just watched me for a moment and, as I watched him, I saw this faint glimmer in his eyes. It was gone as soon as I saw it - I couldn't identify it fast enough - but it was different from the icy look I would usually get from my estranged older brother.

"You need to stop living in the past, Sherlock. You need to just erase what happened." Mycroft sighed. "It makes everything so much easier."

"You want me to forget?! To let them think they can get away with it?!" I hissed as quietly as I could. "How could you say that! After everything they put us through!"

"Pushing that aside and acting how they want is the best way to g-"

"No it's not! That is the cowards way out!"

"I suggest you do as I say, Sherlock - you know what happened to The Other One."

I saw red, standing up from the table so fast that the chair crashed to the ground, my hands slamming down onto the table top. In any other situation, I would have laughed at the way Mycroft startled, jumping and almost falling out of his seat.

But I couldn't laugh.

How could he just sit there and not use his name? To call him 'The Other One'?

How could he just sit there and be fine with it all?

How could he just sit there and be so calm after what happened?

It made me blood boil.

"He has a name!" I screeched. "How could call him that?! How can you sit there and brush it all off!"

I didn't realise my voice had rose until everyone came running through the door. They first looked at Mycroft, finding him paralysed in his seat, eyes wide. They looked to me next - I had no idea what they saw.

"Sherlock... You're hysterical." Mycroft whispered.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" I yelled, my hands flying to my hair, gripping tightly as I clenched my eyes shut. "You're just as bad as all of them! How could you!"

I couldn't control myself, yelling out at my brother, a lot of it gibberish. The tugging at my hair became harsher; I could feel the strands being yanked out...

I didn't remember a lot after that.

Mother and Father had left quickly after that, Gregory showing up to take Mycroft home. Not that I cared much.

I had found myself in the garden, next to the fountain, curled up with my knees hugged tight to my chest, just staring into the water rippling in the winter breeze. I was just sitting there, tear tracks already dry on my face; my head still hurt, almost pounding from how much I had grabbed at my hair...

I hadn't been like that in years.

But he - the one Mycroft referred to as 'The Other One' - was, apparently, one of my triggers.

I just sat there, thinking about nothing, watching the water. I needed to calm down and that was the way to do it.

Of course, I wasn't left alone for long.

John appeared by my side under an hour after I had ran to the fountain, sitting down next to me. He put my Belstaff coat around my shoulders, placing a scarf around my neck and handed me a pair of gloves. I took them without looking at him, pulling the fabric onto my hands, the cold appendages grateful for the slight warmth.

"I apologise for my behaviour... I also apologise for whatever discomfort I brought to you and your family." I whispered, turning my head down slightly. "It will not happen again."

John's arm was around my shoulders in an instant, far closer than necessary for the gesture.

"Don't say that. If it happens again, then it happens again - it's one of those things. We just need to identify what sets you off like that and try our best to avoid them." John told me. "And you don't have to be sorry. It's obvious Mycroft did, or said, something stupid to get you like that. It wasn't your fault."

I didn't argue with the youngest Watson, I only huddled closer as I felt the cold wind stab me, moving until I got my arms through the sleeves of my coat - I had learnt not to argue with John when it came to matters such as these.

"Do you want to talk about it?" John asked, cautiously. "Maybe not about all of it - I get it, we've only known each other for almost four months, you might not be that comfortable with that yet... But, if you want talk about a little bit...?"

For the first time since he had joined me outside, I glanced up at the blond sitting next to me. John Watson truly was a special person - not dull, not completely stupid, kind... John was completely different to the majority of the population...and he wanted to know.

He wanted to know, though I was sure he had some idea of what my parents did.

He wanted to know, not for blackmail, but so he could help.

He wanted to know me.

"You are right when you say Mycroft said something to get me into such a state." I sighed. "He said many things that affected me, but only one really hurt me."

"You don't have to tell me what he said." John reminded me, tightening his hold on my shoulders.

"I-I know, but I want to... You see, we have an older brother - Sherrinford. He's twenty six now - eight years older than Mycroft, ten years older than I am. Sherri was taken away when he was eighteen and we haven't been allowed to see him - Mummy and Daddy refused to let us. It wasn't his fault for the way he was, it was theirs...but no one believed him. I loved Sherri, he would always protect us...or try to. Mycroft decided to bring him up in the conversation I was having with him - I would have been fine if he just used his name! But no. He had to go and use what they call him!"

I didn't realise my hands were on their way back to my hair until John grabbed them, taking them with his as gently as he possibly could. We just sat there, my hands in John's as I tried to calm down, tried to get my breathing back to normal.

It took longer than I wanted.

John didn't ask me to explain anymore, saying that we could leave the rest until I was ready to open up about it all. I was thankful for it, knowing that he wouldn't force me to come clean about it all when I wasn't comfortable.

John even explained everything to his family, the other three Watsons not mentioning anything about it after that.

I spent the rest of the day with John, following him around the house and just sticking close to him. He didn't mind, the blond just smiling as we 'hung out'.

He finally introduced me to the animated movie - How to Train Your Dragon - and, if I was being honest, I liked it. John actually sat there, quoting the dialogue under his breath, grinning the whole way through the movie. It was rather...endearing.

We even ended up talking more, about anything and everything... Hearing John speak about his passions and his views did nothing to curve my growing infatuation for him, if anything it only made the growth quicker. It was getting to the point where I regretted telling John that I had no interest in relationships.

But I had been back then.

I had no interest in any kind of relationship, not even a friendship. But then John bloody Watson came along and changed everything. John Watson was changing a lot about me, slowly breaking down the walls that I had built around myself.

I had been screwed the moment I had met the eighteen year old.

"John?" I muttered as another movie rolled through its credits

"Hm?" John hummed, tilting his head slightly towards me.

"I-I think you were right - about me getting checked out."

John's head snapped round so fast I thought he would get whiplash. His eyes had widened a little, shock colouring his expression.

"I would appreciate it if you would accompany me, if you wouldn't mind." I continued. "Today's events, as well as thinking about my eldest brother, have pushed me to believing it would be the best course of action."

I sounded far more formal than I wanted to, but I couldn't help it. I was nervous. I had never asked a person for their help before, not since I was left to fend for myself. It was difficult.

"I'll ring them tomorrow, yeah?" John said with a small, reassuring smile. "I can ask a friend's mum to see you - she won't mind me being there with you and she's as nice as anything. All you have to do is remember this is nothing bad. It makes you just that little more unique."

And that was it.

That was the entire conversation.

No ridicule.

No 'I told you so'.

Nothing like that.

Just straight support.

I was sure I was a little bit more than just infatuated now.

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