He had to carry the poor boy out of the landing bay.
John whined loudly as Sherlock prodded him to wake up. "Five more minutes." The boy demanded.
"John, we're here." He poked the boy harder. "Come on, child."
"No. Five more minutes." He whined. "Please."
"John this is ridiculous. I am the master, you are the padawan. Wake up." Sherlock demanded.
"I'm tired. I haven't slept in weeks. Ppplllleeeaaaassseeee." He gripped his bear tighter. Sherlock eventually grew tired of arguing with the small boy. He slung his padawan's bag over his own shoulders and picked the small form up by his arm pits. John nuzzled into his neck. The cuddling surprised Sherlock, what kind of person naturally trusted a person they barely knew.
He sighed.
He unclipped both of their light sabers from their belts and hid them in the pack. He had changed early out of his Jedi robes and into Tatooine's traditional dress. Long boots, cream pants, a cream shirt that would only cover half of his arms, and a cloak. His apprentice was dressed as his miniature. Jedi were not the most welcomed on this planet, he also didn't want the Dark Acolyte to catch word he was tracking him.
John was wrapping his thin arms around Sherlock's neck. His bear was pressed firmly between both male's chests. Sherlock once again came close to smiling. He shifted his padawan until John was leaning more comfortably against him. John was breathing heavily into his master's neck. The ship's doors opened.
Almost immediately the smell of sand and booze hit the older man's nose, even John wrinkled his nose in distain. Sherlock allowed himself a small chuckle as he took a small step onto the planet he had called him for the last three months. The Dark Acolyte Moran had called this planet home for the past five. He didn't understand what the Dark Acolyte was doing here for so long yet. Yet.
He pulled his hood over his face and covered John's head with his hand. They stepped out in the raging sandstorm that hid the Jedi base so well. Sherlock felt the force deep within himself before pushing it out to redirect the sand away. John stirred as he sensed his master's power level growing. Sherlock walked as swiftly as the force would allow. He wanted nothing more than to be home. John opened his eyes slowly.
"Whoa!" He shouted as the storm ripped around them. He looked down at Sherlock's swift moving feet.
"Don't move, John. I don't wish to drop you." Sherlock said sternly as the boy was already wiggling. John stopped quickly, but immediately bombarded Sherlock with questions.
"Where are we going?"
"Home."
"How long will it take?"
"Two more minutes."
"How fast are you going?"
"Very."
"That's not a proper answer!"
"You know what John, go back to wiggling."
"Will I be able to run this fast?"
"John." Sherlock's answer was short.
"Sorry, Master."
Sherlock sighed angrily, he came to a steady stop a mile before his home, the storm had finally come to a halt. He set John on the ground and held onto his bear. "See that building there?" He said clearly and slowly. John frowned as his master continued to address him as a child. "Focus on directing the force through your legs, propelling you forward. Stop before you hit my building, please. I don't want to have to repaint it."
John nodded solemnly, he was eager to show Sherlock he was not a child. He had always had a better way with the force than most younglings. He felt the force growing in the pit of his stomach. His brow scrunched in concentration. All he had to do was focus…
John shot in the seven feet. He landed with a huge crash at Sherlock's feet. The older man sighed. "I said focus on it propelling you forward."
"I know." John snapped. He tried again, he had to prove to Sherlock he was a worthy padawan. He had to…
Again he shot several feet in the air. He landed painful down on his knee with a cry of pain. Tears of anger immediately sprang to his eyes. He looked at Sherlock pleadingly. Sherlock picked him up by the back of the hood and found himself repeating his master's words of wisdom. "Is there blood?"
"No." John sniffed.
"You're fine." He plopped the boy back down and passed him his bear. John took Mako gratefully. He looked up at Sherlock expecting to see disappointment, like most of his teachers' looks were. Sherlock had an eyebrow cocked, but instead looked completely bemused. John scowled at him.
"I want to try again."
"You've tried enough, young one." Sherlock said smoothly, for once hoping his padawan would argue with him. John passed him Mako.
"I'm going to try again." He wiped tears from his eyes. "You can go ahead if you want. I am going to be the best Jedi ever, I have to try."
Sherlock chuckled. "Your ambition is too high. You are eight, John. You cannot clear your mind enough to master this move. You lack focus."
"Tell me what to do. You're my teacher…" John said almost unsurely. He looked up at his master with blue eyes blazing. Sherlock pulled the small boy's hood over his head and pulled it down over his eyes. John gave an annoyed "oof".
"Do not try to impress me when you're doing this technic, young one. I know you're advanced with the force, I also know you lack focus. Learn to see and observe me and what others are doing and if something interests you learn to copy that movement, perfect, and make it your own. Learn to be clever, John."
He leaned down to pick his apprentice up, but John took a step backwards. "Please, Master, one more try?"
"Once more." He said tiredly. "Ignore my presences for now, John. Focus on the force."
John focused on the feeling of forward this time, he remembered Sherlock's words. Forward, forward, forward. Pressure was building up in his stomach and just like that John shot half a mile forward. He could feel the wind wisping through his hair. He let out a happy whoop.
He ran for what felt like seconds when the was a sudden arm tightening around his waist, pulling him close. John yelped.
"John! I said to slow down before you hit the building." Sherlock said angrily. "Didn't you hear me? That was an idiotic thing to ignore, youngling." Sherlock's voice was harsh. He set John on the ground and came face to face with an angry eight year old.
"I am not a youngling anymore!" He pouted. "I'm not."
"You could be." Sherlock threatened. "If you don't start listening to me."
"I did listen! I moved forward!" John was coming close to a temper tantrum. His lower lip trembled in childlike rebelliousness.
"Enough." Sherlock said crossly, he rubbed his temples. "I have neither the time nor the patience to listen to you. Inside."
John crossed his arms defiantly. He walked pass Sherlock in an angry huff and mumbled soft curses under his breath. Sherlock was about to respond with his own curses, when a small droid knocked against his foot. In its hands was a small package with a letter attached. Sherlock dropped coins into the droid's waiting head and accepted the package. He read the letter swiftly.
Be kind to him, brother. He is very young – MH
Sherlock scowled and crumpled the letter in his hand. He entered his small hut and slid the door closed behind him. He threw his apprentice's bag on the floor. John was peeking down hallways curiously. He examined his new home diligently, he looked back to Sherlock quickly. "I'm hungry." He said stoutly.
Sherlock hid his light saber behind his back. John could have it only when he needed it, not a moment before. He pointed straight in front of him towards a modest kitchen. "There. Food." He said shortly, unclipping his cloak. He threw himself down on a couch and closed his eyes.
"Can you help me?" John asked suddenly very polite. "Please?"
"No. You wouldn't listen to me anyway." Sherlock said without opening his eyes.
"I don't need you to tell me how to make a sandwich." John snarled. "I need you to reach some things for me."
"Use the force, John." Sherlock said sarcastically as he rolled onto his side and ignored the child. He hid the young boy's light saber under the chair. Not a perfect hiding space, but it would do. There was a small crash and a whimper. Sherlock groaned. "What is it now?"
He turned to see John sitting on the floor, covered in a jelly and glass, and bleeding from the head. John was crying into hands, it was muffled, but Sherlock was sure it was profound. Sherlock sighed, rose from the couch, and stepped on the table to get to the crying boy. He sat directly in front of the boy, John hiccupped.
"What happened, padawan?" Sherlock's tone was clearly annoyed. John sniffled.
"Nothing. Go away." He covered his face with his hand again. "I hate this. I'm too little…I…I wanna go home. Everyone else was right…this…this is awful. I'm too 'lil to have a master. I'm too 'lil to be a padawan. I wanna be a youngling again. At least those teachers help you make a stupid sandwich." He looked at Sherlock with hurt blue eyes. "I wanna go home, sir. Please, I wanna go home."
Sherlock looked a little stunned at John's sudden outburst. He made a move to wipe jelly from John's face, but the child covered his head again. He wanted nothing to do with the older man. Sherlock was becoming insanely frustrated, there was no happy medium with this child. He was either too eager or too miserable.
Be kind to him, brother. He is very young.
Sherlock noticed John's teddy bear was covered with jelly. He felt the force in his hand and annoyance in his heart as he slowly guided the jelly off Mako's fur. John was watching him through his fingers. Sherlock made a small hand motion and the glass and jelly on the floor sprang into a trash droid. He had the boy's full attention now. "I can't take the jelly off of you until you move your hands away from your face." He said softly.
John slowly took his hands away.
Sherlock stood up and walked to the sink. He motioned for John to come to him, the boy followed him curiously. Sherlock wet a rag, he passed it down to John. "Take care of your face, I'll get your hair." As Sherlock reached out with the force jelly shot from the blond boy's hair. He smiled as the hair stood on end. John finished washing his face as Sherlock knelt in front of him.
"Where are you cut?"
John shook his head. "I'm fine, Master sir. Look." He showed him his arm, where the cuts were already starting to vanish. He smiled. "That's why people say I'm advanced, sir. I heal by myself."
Sherlock found himself smiling a little with his padawan. "Are you still hungry?" He was far more gentle with his words than before.
"Yes, sir." John's stomach growled in agreement. He looked at the spilled jelly sadly. "I'm very hungry, sir."
"John." Sherlock said steadily. "If you are hungry from now on you must tell me. I have trained myself beyond eating and sleep. It slows me down, but for a growing boy it is an important thing."
"Yes, sir." John said softly.
"Would you like to go out to eat?" Sherlock said suddenly feeling guilty he had forced an eight year old to feed himself. He had forgotten children under the age of twenty-two were useless. John was nodding eagerly. Sherlock ruffled John's hair absent mindedly as he went to get his light saber. He didn't see his padawan grinning ear to ear at his gesture.
Sherlock pulled a robe around his shoulders and clipped his light saber to the back. When his padawan went to mirror his master's movement he was stilled. Sherlock held his hand out for the young one's training light saber. John passed it over unwillingly. Sherlock laid it on the table carefully. He gestured for John to follow him, but his apprentice grabbed his robe swiftly.
"Why must I leave my light saber behind, Master?" John pouted.
"John." Sherlock didn't know how to explain to a boy who grew up thinking the Jedi were gods that there were some areas that hated them. He ran his hand through hair. "I'm tracking a Dark Acolyte." He told a half truth. "I can't have the villages here ratting me out to him. In fact when we are out call me Sherlock, I don't want to draw in suspicion."
John looked at him with adoring eyes. He decided right then and there his master was the coolest/crankiest Jedi that ever lived. "Amazing." He breathed. Sherlock shook his head. It wasn't a word most people described him as.
He opened the door as his padawan scampered into a small speeder parked outside the house. He launched into the driver's side with John buckling his belt beside him. "Master, may I drive?"
That could be…interesting.
He nodded slowly. John unbuckled his seat quickly and hopped into Sherlock's lap. He looked up at Sherlock with huge, excited eyes. "Now you clearly can't reach the pedals, but if you could this one is gas, this one is…"
John was paying incredible attention to his every word. Sherlock smiled down at the little blond boy in his lap.
He remembered the first time his own master taught him to drive. He hoped it would go better than that disaster.