Chapter 5: John and Sherlock
Sherlock was sitting in class when the strange men arrived and took the very scared and confused child, away from his school.
"Don't worry, son. Everything's going to be ok. We're taking you home to get your things and to say goodbye, and then you're leaving that place."
"But what about mummy?" the boy shouted. "I don't want to leave mummy!" Why were they trying to take him away from her?
"Your mummy is going to go to a hospital where she can get the care she needs, and your father has had to go away. Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine."
"Will I see her again?" the boy asked.
"Yes." UNIT took Sherlock home and helped him pack and let him say goodbye to his mummy before spiriting him away to London, to the home of one David and Anne Watson and their children, Harry and John.
Sherlock had made sure to crawl under his bed and grab his little violin before he left. When he arrived at the home in London, he said nothing. He just stood in the living room while the adults talked and looked the place over. A small, shy blonde boy came over to the new kid and stuck out his hand. "I'm John Watson," he said. "Who're you?"
Sherlock ignored the hand. "Sherlock Holmes," he murmured, holding the violin case close to his chest for comfort. John dropped the hand, standing awkwardly. "I-I hope you like it here. I'd love to be your friend."
Sherlock nodded. "Where do I sleep?" he asked, wanting to settle in his own space.
"You'll be sharing with me! I have bunk beds and a big room. There's plenty of space for your stuff."
Sherlock nodded. "Okay." He stared at the floor. He had been taken away from his mummy, and now he had to share a room with a boy he didn't know, and on top of all that he had forgotten a good portion of the previous day for no reason. John reached out and gently took the boy's hand. "I know it's scary at first, but it's not that bad. C'mon, I'll show you our room."
Sherlock looked up and followed John upstairs. "The soldiers said you had a sister?" he asked, referring to UNIT in the only way he could think of.
"Yeah, Harry. She's ok I guess, but she's not the nicest of sisters. We fight a lot. She's mean to me." John pushed open a door at the end of the hall. "Here it is!"
Sherlock looked around; it seemed spacious enough, he would have room for his things, and he could put his books on the shelf. "Which bed is mine?" he asked.
"You can pick. Mummy changed the sheets this morning when she found out you were coming. I don't mind."
"I'll go on the top, then," the pale boy decided. He liked climbing and being high up anyway. John nodded "Cool. Now I can catch you if you roll out of bed in the middle of the night."
"Okay," Sherlock said, scrambling up the ladder to the top. He put his violin case down gently on the mattress. "I hope you don't mind if I play sometimes," he remarked, not that John minding would have stopped him from doing it anyway.
"Nope! I like music. What else d'you want me t'know about you?"
"I don't sleep a lot or eat. And I like to do experiments." Sherlock said.
"I eat lots, and I go on my computer. I read sometimes, and I play outside!" John replied.
"What kind of stories do you like? I have all kinds of books," Sherlock told him, peering over the edge of his bed down at John.
"Adventure stories, hero stories. I like stories about doctors or pirates."
"I love pirates!" the younger boy said, bouncing up and down on the bed.
"Really? So do I. They're the best!" John grinned up at him, hoping they'd be friends.
Sherlock smiled for the first time he could remember in a long while and looked down at the boy. "That's great! So we can play Pirates together now!"
"I'd love that! You can be the Captain if you want."
"Captain..." Sherlock thought for a moment. A Captain? Like on a pirate ship? That sounded so familiar. He shook his head and snapped out of his daze. "I'd like that," he said.
"Let's go!" John jumped up and ran to the door. "We got a huge backyard for adventures!"
Sherlock jumped down from the top bunk nimbly, following John. "Okay!" he said.
oOoOo
John led Sherlock to the backyard. "That's the garden-" he pointed to the flowerbeds, "-and that's the tree house. That can be our ship!"
"I always wanted a tree house," Sherlock said, running over to it. "So cool."
"You like it? My daddy helped me build it. Go on up!"
Sherlock smiled, climbing up the ladder carefully so he wouldn't fall. "Wow," he breathed as he reached the landing. John clambered up after him. "It's really cool, right Captain Sherlock?"
Sherlock did a little salute. "Amazing," he confirmed.
"I think you're amazing, Sherlock." John was enthralled by the new boy, how clearly bright and curious and smart he was.
"And you are brilliant, John."
"What makes you say that?" the blonde boy asked, his face flushing slightly with pride.
"Because you're being nice to me and sharing your tree house with me and you don't even know me," Sherlock said.
"Then let's be brilliant together. Where to, Captain?"
"To the Caribbean! Hoist the sails!" Sherlock shouted, pretending to steer.
"Aye Aye, Captain." John ran around the tree house, pretending to pull ropes, leaning out the window to look. After a few minutes he shouted, "Land ho!"
Sherlock stopped steering and threw the pretend anchor over the side. "Now we can look for treasure!"
"Ok! Do you have a treasure map?"
Sherlock looked around, grabbing a piece of coloring paper from the corner. "Here! Treasure Map!" he exclaimed.
"Perfect. We're here" John grabbed a crayon and drew a square "and the treasure should be here." he drew an x a little ways away. Sherlock nodded "Alright!" he grinned, following John.
John scurried down the ladder, waiting for Sherlock before they set off to follow the map. Sherlock laughed as they ran around the yard, feeling like a normal kid for once. John led Sherlock around the yard, finally stopping next to the flower beds. "It should be here."
"Now we just have to dig it up," Sherlock said with a smile.
"I think we have shovels in the garage. Come on!"
Sherlock nodded, following loyally towards the garage. John punched in the combination and the garage opened. "Here," he said, giving Sherlock a plastic shovel, the kind he could find at the beach. "We can use these."
Sherlock took the little blue shovel. "Cool!" he said, waiting for John to get his and running back towards the flower bed. John skidded to a stop and drew an X on the ground with his shovel. "It shouldn't be buried deep," he said. He couldn't wait to see Sherlock's face when he saw what was really buried there. Sherlock nodded, sticking his little shovel into the dirt.
"Keep going, almost there!" John was having so much fun and was practically jumping up and down with excitement when he heard Sherlock's shovel thunk, the look of surprise on the boy's face absolutely priceless.
Sherlock looked up in surprise. "There's actually treasure here!" he exclaimed; John beamed. "Yep!" he exclaimed happily. "Dig it up, I think you'll like it."
Sherlock did as he was told, digging around the sides until he could pull the 'treasure' out of the flower bed. "What is it?" he asked, opening the lid of the box.
"It's a very special treasure," John answered, kneeling in the dirt beside Sherlock. "I buried it here a few months ago. It-I found it on the riverbank. It's very special."
Sherlock pulled out a blue scarf and unwrapped it to find an arrowhead. "Whoa, I bet that's really old," he said, inspecting the little once-sharp stone that had been dulled by a long time spent on the bed of the river.
"That's what I thought too. I liked it, but I think it looks kind of like you, all dark and shiny."
Sherlock looked at John. "I like that scarf. Where did you get it?" he asked. It didn't look like
anything the Watson family tended to wear based on the jumper and jeans John was wearing.
"You like it? It was a gift from my uncle, and I had to be polite and take it. You want it? I never wear it, it's why it got buried with the treasure."
Sherlock nodded. "Thanks!" he said, putting the scarf around his neck.
"It looks good on you." It really did, hugging the curly haired boy's neck snugly; it a bit long, but Sherlock would grow into it. Sherlock smiled. "Thanks." He said again. He got the feeling this wasn't going to be such a bad arrangement after all. He glanced up at the setting sun, the trees in the yard starting to cast longer and longer shadows. "We should go in soon," he said.
"Yeah, Mummy'll be making dinner. It's pasta night! Come on!" John grabbed Sherlock's hand, tugging the boy after him
Sherlock stumbled after the boy, laughing as they entered the warm household. It smelled like food and felt warm and happy, something Sherlock had never really experienced before.
oOoOo
Dinner was wonderful; Sherlock even smiled and spoke a bit while they ate. Then it was pajamas and brushing teeth, and all too soon, the boys were in bed, being tucked in by John's mummy.
"Thank you, Mrs. Watson," Sherlock whispered to the woman as she tucked them into bed. "and thank you for dinner."
"Of course, sweetheart. I'm really glad you've come to live with us. Sleep tight." She kissed his forehead and left, turning out the light.
"Sherlock," John whispered. "You awake?"
Sherlock sat up on his elbows. "Yeah," he whispered back, leaning over the edge of the bed so his curly dark head appeared over John's bed, upside down.
"I had fun today," John whispered. "I liked playing pirates, and I'm glad you like the scarf. D'you-d'you think we could maybe be friends?"
Sherlock nodded, "Sure," he said. "I don't have any other friends, so that's good."
"Really? No friends? But you're amazing!"
Sherlock looked upside down at John. "Well thanks, but not a lot of people seem to think that."
"Why not? You're really nice and cool and very smart and funny. You like pirates and adventures. You know the violin..."
Sherlock shrugged, "They don't like my deductions, the way I know stuff," he said.
"I think it's the best part about you."
Sherlock eyed the boy oddly, his icy eyes glowing in the darkness of the room. "Thanks." He said, flipping himself right side up again as he had become light-headed.
"Night, Sherlock," John whispered.
"Night, John," Sherlock whispered back, laying down and staring at the ceiling, sleep eluding him as he shed silent tears for his Mummy and his hoe and his missing memories.
There you have lots of Kid!lock and fluff. On to the final part of Chapter 3 with Owen and Tosh. Let's see how going for drinks went...