He sighed heavily and looked down at the floor.

"I didn't come here to fight, Sherlock." Mrs. Holmes said tiredly. "I just wanted to check on you."

"I don't need someone to check on me." He bit out. "You can go."

"Sherlock." She said. "It's almost Christmas. Couldn't you get over this anger for thirty minutes and talk to me?"

"I'd rather not." He said.

"Why not?" She asked exasperated.

"Because you put me in here!" He said a bit harshly. "You didn't even listen when I tried to explain. I'm not an addict and I'm not going to buy into this worthless trash of a treatment program for a chemical imbalance that I don't actually have."

"So, you're saying that it's our fault that you're here." She said quietly. "That you weren't warned again and again about what your actions were going to cause us to do."

"This place is for addicts." He said. "I'm not an addict."

"And Jim?" She asked coldly. "You're not at fault for what you did with him either?"

Sherlock swallowed heavily before saying, "What happened with Jim didn't mean anything."

"To you, maybe." She said icily. "But you aren't an island, Sherlock. What you do has consequences and it meant something to John. The only boy who has ever seen past your antagonistic bullshit and taken the time to get to know you. I've never been so disappointed in you as I was when I saw what you did to him."

She rose angrily and stalked toward the door.

"Wait." He called out. He met her halfway and shoved an envelope at her. "Could you get this to him?"

"What is it?" She asked suspiciously.

"It's private." He bit out before turning on his heel and heading back to his room.

Mrs. Holmes felt tears threaten to fall as she looked at the envelope and read her son's spidery writing, "Happy Christmas John".

00000000000000000000

SH: I left a note for you with my mother. Feel free to stop by the Manor to pick it up.

JW: I really don't want anything from you.

SH: Why? It's for you.

JW: You're hopeless.

SH: I miss you. Everyone here is incredibly dull.

JW: You could at least try to make friends.

SH: I don't want to.

JW: Then I'm not going to feel bad about you being bored.

SH: You could come visit me. I'm sure my parents would pay for the train ticket.

JW: Sherlock, I'm not going to come visit the ass who cheated on me and got high just because he's bored.

SH: Honestly John. You know I hate repeating myself. How many times do I have to tell you that it meant nothing until you believe me?

JW: You do realize that I don't care whether it meant anything to you or not, right?

SH: Then why are you still mad?

JW: Because it meant something to me. Something not good.

SH: Oh. I didn't think of it like that.

JW: Well done, you.

SH: Is that why everyone is mad at me?

JW: I can't speak for anyone else, but that's definitely why I'm mad at you.

SH: How do I fix it?

JW: This isn't something you fix.

SH: I don't want you to be mad at me.

JW: That's too bad.

SH: I don't know why you're being like this.

JW: Being like what?

SH: So stubborn. I know that you miss me too.

JW: I really don't.

SH: Yes you do.

JW: I make it a point not to miss my ex-boyfriends.

SH: You're a terrible liar.

JW signed out.

0000000000000000000000000

"I really don't think this is the best idea." Mrs. Watson said.

"It'll be fine." John reassured her. "I'm just going over for dinner."

"But sweetie…" His mum said again.

"I know what I'm doing." John cut in. "I miss them and I really do want to see them again."

"Just don't feel obligated to stay there if you get uncomfortable." She said.

"Mum," John said rolling his eyes. "I'm not a blithering mess. I'll be fine. It's just dinner."

"I just worry." She said. "Your aunt says that you still aren't sleeping well."

"I'm fine, Mum." He said. "Just don't worry."

"I'm your mother." She answered. "It's my job to worry. I just want you to be okay."

"Thanks, Mum." He said.

"I've missed you." She said pulling him into a hug.

"I've missed you too." He answered.

"But you're happy in London?" She asked.

"I'm good." He said.

The doorbell went and Mrs. Hudson quickly pulled him into a tight hug as soon as he opened the door. They chatted for a bit before stepping out into the cold. The ride was short and full of chatter. It seemed that no time had passed between them. They caught up on their shows and Mrs. Hudson told him about some of the exciting events that they'd had at the Manor since he'd been away. Mrs. Holmes seemed just as excited to see him as she kissed his forehead twice before pulling him into another big hug. Dinner was lovely and there was no lull in the conversation. They chatted for hours after dinner letting the subject of Sherlock stay locked tightly away. Mr. Holmes and Mycroft were unable to make it and John secretly thought this was a wonderful turn of events. He was always a bit more nervous around the males of this family. It was getting to be close to 11pm when his third big yawn seemed to shake the two women out of their current dialogue regarding the renovations of the greenhouse. Mrs. Holmes tutted and kissed him again as they bundled him up to head home. He was just turning to walk out the door when Mrs. Holmes placed a hand gently on his arm to stop him.

"Sherlock wanted me to give this to you." She whispered quietly, holding out an envelope.

"Oh." John said dumbly as he took it feeling some of his good mood fray a bit. "Thanks."

"I know what he did was unforgivable." Mrs. Holmes said. "But I really do think that he cares about you."

"Just not enough." John said firmly before heading out into the cold.

The car ride back was a lot quieter but John would have to have been blind not to catch the worried glances that Mrs. Hudson kept sending his way. They pulled up outside his house and he thanked Mrs. Hudson as she pulled him into another hug.

"Do you have plans for the summer?" She asked. "We'd love to have you at the Manor again."

"I'm sorry." He said brokenly. "I don't think I can. There's just too much…that didn't work out."

"I understand, dearie." She said patting his cheek gently. "But do keep in touch. You really are a very special young man."

John scoffed lightly but didn't say anything else about it. "It was wonderful to see you again."

"You too, dearie." She said.

"Happy Christmas." He said.

"And the same for you and your family." She said.

"Goodbye." He said before slipping out of the car and heading back to his house. He crept upstairs and collapsed on his bed clutching at the envelope in his fingers. He turned on his bedside lamp and broke the seal gently before pulling out a couple sheets of paper and reading the largest sheet:

I thought about what you might want for Christmas and this is what I came up with. I hope you like it. I miss you.

John felt his breath constrict in his lungs before pulling out the smaller sheet to read it as well. He felt his eyes go blurry and he couldn't help the sob that escaped his lips. He clutched at the sheets desperately and curled up on his bed wishing that all of this pain would stop. He just wanted to stop feeling this way but this wound in his chest seemed incapable of healing. It just ached and ached. He read over the sheets a few more times letting the words send deliciously addictive pangs through him.

Sherlock Holmes, upon the holder redeeming this promissory note, agrees to admit defeat and offer up his heart to John Watson as proof of ownership.

I'm yours, John.

00000000000000000000

"You know that I don't believe a word that you're telling me, right?" His therapist said with a wry grin.

"I don't care whether you believe it or not," Sherlock said firmly. "That's my answer."

"So, you're telling me that the reason you are giving away all of the things that your parents are shipping up here is because you want to bond with your peers." She said arching her eyebrow.

"That's the normal bullshit that regular people do when wanting to interact with stupid people, right?" He said rolling his eyes.

"You are full of it." She said smiling. "What's your arrangement with Sebastian? He always does this. He makes these deals with the newer boys. What's his hook?"

"No matter how much you goad me," He said. "I'm much too intelligent to reveal anything incriminating."

"I could care less about reporting this." She shrugged. "I just want to know what's causing you, of all people, to be agreeable with Sebastian."

Sherlock turned to stare out the window.

"This has something to do with John." She said.

"We're not discussing John." Sherlock said firmly.

"Fine." She said. "What did you get for Christmas?"

"Nothing." He said.

"What do you mean?" She asked. "Your parents sent all sorts of stuff last week."

"I didn't get anything important." He said.

"You mean you didn't get anything from John." She said.

He looked away again.

"Did you expect him to send you something?" She asked.

"I hoped." He said quietly. "He's…polite like that…I thought he would…but…I guess not."

"Thought he would what?" She asked.

"I sent him something." He said quietly. "Weeks ago with my mother. I thought he might…"

"Well, he's only been back for a bit." She said attempting to reassure him. "Perhaps it's on its way."

"What are you talking about?" He asked. "Only been back from where?"

He watched as his therapist's eyebrows rise incredibly high before she glanced away and cleared her throat, "I thought you knew."

"Knew what?" He asked getting angry.

"John doesn't live at home anymore." She said.

"What!" He asked. "Where does he live?"

"In London with his aunt." She said. "Where are you going!"

He ignored her as he strode out of the room. He ran back to his room and unscrewed the air vent behind his bed. He pulled out the gadget Sebastian had secured for him weeks ago and flipped it on violently. He was so angry he could hardly see straight.

SH: Why in the fuck didn't you tell me?

Mycroft: Should I be concerned as to how you got access to the internet? I thought the policy at that facility was incredibly stringent.

SH: Stop being such a prick and tell me.

Mycroft: I assume you're talking about John's relocation.

SH: Well done. What the hell is going on?

Mycroft: John was sent to live with his aunt in London. That's the only thing that is 'going on', Sherlock.

SH: Why didn't you or Mother tell me?

Mycroft: It is none of your business where John lives.

SH: Of course it is!

Mycroft: No, it's not. You lost the right to that information several months ago.

SH: How is he?

Mycroft: Did you have anything else you wanted Sherlock or can I get back to work?

SH: You aren't even going to tell me how he is?

Mycroft: No.

SH: You're a bastard.

Mycroft: And you're a selfish, spoiled child. Grow up Sherlock and maybe you'll earn that right back.

Mycroft signed out.