"Have you done it yet?" John asked.
"Have I done what?" Sherlock said, his eyes glued to his experiment.
"Filled out the paper questionnaire thing Trey sent us."
"Hmm..." Sherlock gently squeezed the pipet, allowing only a drop of the liquid onto the slide. He put a cover on it, then slid it under his microscope.
"Is that a yes or a no?" John asked.
"It's a yes." Sherlock said. "Of course it's a yes, I sent it in last night. What did you think I was doing? Using my laptop for no reason?"
"I figured you might have been writing another paper on those 213 types of tobacco ash or something." John said. It was then Sherlock cut in for a snipet of words.
"243. You're getting closer."
John rolled his eyes, and was about to leave, but remembered a piece of Sherlock's phrasing."And it's my laptop by the way."
Sherlock shrugged. "Same difference."
"It is no-" John sighed. "Whatever."
"Can I see your paper?" Sherlock held his hand out to receive the laptop.
"Why?"
"Because I'm curious." Sherlock answered passively. "You never talk about your life before you met me."
"'Never' is a bit of an exaggeration, Sherlock. I do sometimes." John thought a moment. "Alright, but only if I can see yours."
At this, Sherlock hesitated.
"Could I get milk instead?" Sherlock asked, hopefully.
" No. I picked up some this morning," John said, "plus, you'd probably forget anyway."
Sherlock huffed then walked to the couch and promptly curled up on himself, pouting.
"Sherlock..."
"No." Sherlock mumbled.
"Oh come on, Sherlock! You can't say no after you've gotten me curious!" John said. "Why are you being so private anyway? There's nothing that could even possibly be incriminating on those sheets."
Sherlock said nothing, and John continued.
"Really, I don't know what you're putting up a fuss about." John said. "I already know about your old drug habit if that's what you're worried about. I won't change my mind about anything."
"Fine! Take it then!" Sherlock shoved the laptop into John's hands in a fit of rage. "Go on! Have a peek."
He made for the door, pausing only to grab his coat. He didn't bother to put it on before he walked out the door.
"Sherlock-" John said, confused. "I didn't mean to-"
"Didn't mean to what?" Sherlock asked, the tinge of bitterness clear in his voice.
John was about to answer, but then he realized he didn't know what he hadn't meant to do. Make Sherlock angry? Make him upset? Push him to let him see the papers?
Whatever I did, I messed up big somehow. John thought.
Sherlock sat in the face of Big Ben, staring out at the city below.
He's right, he deserves to know.
I can read him like a book, it's only fair.
But does he have to be so pushy about it?
Everyone has a chapter of their life they prefer not to read... Right?
Sherlock heard a ping, and glanced down at his phone, which he had been twirling between his fingertips.
New Text!
Sherlock sighed and opened it.
Mr. Holmes,
As I reviewed the info sheets that you sent in, I noticed that there was a large gap in your description of your childhood ranging from your birth to your 12th year of life. Parts of other topics were left blank as well. While I realize some topics may be uncomfortable, the study will be much more effective if you fill out every portion of the info sheets.
-Trey Winthrop
Sherlock re-read the message, hoping an appropriate response would come to mind. None did.
For the study to be accurate, I must be honest.
Sherlock began typing his response.
Dr. Winthrop,
I have filled out as much of the forms as I am capable, I apologize for the blank spaces, but I simply do not have access to the information to fill them.
-SH
Sherlock read over his short message, then sent it. Within a few minutes, the phone pinged again.
Mr. Holmes,
If you don't mind me asking, I'm curious as to why you don't have access to that information.
-Trey Winthrop.
Sherlock typed out the text, then his fingers stilled.
He sent the text.
John stared at the laptop, which was sitting beside him on the arm of the chair.
Should I look at the sheet, or should I not? John thought.
Hmm...
John's fingers slid onto the laptop.
Sherlock walked through the door, shrugging off his coat. John glanced up at him, and Sherlock sighed.
"So?"
"So what?" John asked.
"What did you think of the sheet?" Sherlock said. "I'm sure your bounding for answers."
"I didn't read it, Sherlock."
"Of course you- wait, what?" Sherlock looked up at John, confusion showing in his eyes.
"I almost read it. I opened the laptop, pulled it up. Then I thought about it some more." John said, getting up and pouring two cuppas. He handed one to Sherlock.
"Something was in there you obviously didn't want me knowing about," John said. "Then I pushed you to show me it. That was wrong of me. If you don't want me knowing about something, then I shouldn't know about it. You tell me things about yourself on a need-to-know basis. And that's alright. I trust you."
Sherlock watched John, looking for any indication that he was lying and had actually read the file. He found none.
"Thank you, John."
"Don't thank me." John said. "I'm just doing what I should have to begin with."
Trey quickly walked up the stairs and into the building, nearly tripping over his own feet several times.
How can I be late?! I'm never late!
Trey growled as his phone vibrated, reminding him that he need to silence it. Carefully juggling the note book, clip board, and files he was holding, he managed to remove the phone from his pocket. Looking at it, he realized that he had managed to miss a text.
"From Sherlock," He mumbled to himself. He scrolled down through their previous messages, re-familiarizing himself with their conversation.
Maybe now I'll know why he couldn't fill out that part of the form.
His brows wrinkled together in confusion as he read the message.
Because those areas of the form are blank in my mind as well. - SH
The meaning of the words sunk into Trey's mind.
He doesn't remember.