John made Sherlock bind his back.
The tall master obeyed his padawan grudgingly, he bandaged his back under the watchful eye of John. He allowed the boy to examine his wounds. John scowled into the badly dressed gashes.
"Little one." The knight said glumly. "I will be fine."
"You should see a healer." The child grumped.
"Dull." Sherlock droned.
The knight pulled his young padawan in front of him, the boy was pouting up at the tall man. "Please, Master?"
The ship began its descent into the hanger bay. Sherlock rose uneasily, John scowled at him angrily. Sherlock pulled the hood over the young boy's eyes and shouldered his duffel bag. Pain ripped through his shoulder blades, but he did not flinch for John's sake. The boy would not look at him.
"John."
The boy waited by the door without a word.
"John."
Silence.
"Little one."
"You should see a healer." The child whined.
Sherlock rested his hand on John's shoulder. He gave it a strong squeeze and made the boy look at him. The master knelt to look in his padawan's defiant blue eyes. John dropped his gaze respectfully until his master caught his chin and made him look. "Let me suffer for my impertinence, don't dwell on my wellbeing, John."
"So I should not dwell on your moronic decisions?" The boy asked innocently.
"The only moronic decision I made was accepting your apprenticeship, despicable brat." The tall knight teased.
John snorted. "I believe I accepted your guardianship, Master. Therefore the moronic decision was mine."
"Then I have never made a moronic decision in my life, so stop questioning me, little one." He swiftly carded his hand through the blond hair as the door opened. The boy punched him in the leg rudely. Sherlock hissed at the boy, his long fingers flicked his padawan's forehead. They shared a soft chuckle as they stepped into the bright sunlight.
Sherlock twisted his head away from the giggling boy towards the exact. Two brooding figures stood slightly off to the right. Sherlock snarled. "The hells are you doing here?"
"Wait to set a good example for the child, Holmes." Anderson growled with annoying knowledge.
"Master Anderson, Master Donavan." John greeted politely and bowed at each name. His master continued snarling. John glanced up at him, he pressed against their bond steadily. Master, be polite.
Sherlock shook his head angrily. "Well?"
"We are here simply to make sure you arrived safely, you made a small detour on your route back." Donavan said calmly. She eyed John with disappointment. "John, didn't your master teach you tradition? You are supposed to stay on his left, two steps behind him." She glared at Sherlock. His master shrugged.
John frowned at his teacher. He had never told John that was Jedi tradition, the whole time on Tatooine John usually ran ahead of his master. Even now John was standing at his right side and in front of him. The boy scrambled behind him and stood respectfully in his shadow. Sherlock grimaced.
"He doesn't have to stand there, Donavan. It was my decision to not tell him, I want him where I can see him." Sherlock said crossly.
"As I constantly reminded your master you are farther along on your path then he, it is only fair that you walk as such." Donavan rebuked him.
"Yes, but he's such a troublesome rascal I can't keep my eyes on him whilst he is back there." Sherlock said seriously. "I can hardly keep the boy under control, he's so ill behaved."
The child looked horrified as Sherlock swept a grand bow and turned on his heel. "Master!" The boy chased after him. "They're going to believe you! Master! They don't know you're kidding!"
Sherlock tracked down the main hall swiftly before he stopped short and felt the boy collide into his legs. John fell backwards onto his backside, Sherlock knelt next to his fallen padawan with a small smirk. "That is way you stay ahead of me."
"It's not traditional, Master." The boy protested.
"I am not traditional." He placed his hand on the boy's thin shoulder. "And something is very wrong here, I want you to stay where I can watch you."
"You sense something?"
"The council should not take such offense to our detour. At least not enough to send those two idiots." Sherlock growled.
"Yes, Master." John wrinkled his nose. "Why do the three of you get a long so poorly? If I can ask, that is."
"They were close friends with my master, little one."
"Did something happen, Master?" The boy asked unknowingly.
"My master took me in." Sherlock said quietly.
"Was that bad?" The boy inquired at a loss.
"It was…frowned upon." Sherlock did not want to tell the boy anymore, not yet. Most people heard his story and decided he wasn't worth their time. That perhaps he was still dark at heart, and that he would perhaps go back to his original master. He couldn't stand to see John look at him with that fear. When the boy was a man Sherlock could consider telling him, but that was a long way off.
John looked at him curiously, but said nothing. He reached his hand up and gave a gentle tug on his master's sleeve. Sherlock had let the boy feel fear across their bond unintentionally. John pulled until the master came face to face with him, the boy leaned forward and very quietly whispered. "Was it frowned upon because you never used a healer then either?"
At that moment Sherlock knew he was blessed with an undeserved gift.
oOo
"Where are you going, little one?"
The boy stopped in confusion. "To my quarters, Master? I am tired."
Sherlock blinked. "John you are mine now, your youngling quarters have been given away." Sherlock continued walking at a slow pace for his padawan to catch up to. John hustled up to him.
"I can stay with you?"
"Only until you bore me." The master replied rudely.
John snorted. Where most people would have that the older man cruel, John was at complete ease with his Master's abuse. "I shall disobey all your rules in attempt to stay interesting to you my master." His wit was becoming as sharp as Sherlock's. The elder smirked.
"Do you not do that already, John? Perhaps your predictable recklessness is what I grow bored of."
"Then I will work harder to be less predictable to please you, Master." The boy bowed elegantly. The master returned it with a small smile.
"You could never be unpredictable to me, John." Sherlock began punching a code in a door panel. His apprentice smirked and followed him as the door slid open. John gasped at the older man's quarters. John had had a bed, a dresser, and a window. Sherlock had two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, a living space, and four windows. No five windows!
"It used to be, Lestrade's. They let me keep it because he bribed so hard to obtain it." Sherlock shrugged his duffel off his shoulder and pulled his shirt over his head. The tunics were upsetting his lashes. John grimaced. "I am fine, little one."
"I could hear her, Master. You should have let me taken my five…"
"John, I would have sooner taken fifty lashes than let you take your five." Sherlock knelt in front of the boy. "And we will not go through this exercise again."
"Yes, Master." The boy said wearily. He felt himself being picked up and carefully pressed against his master's chest. The little boy yawned. Nightmares were a horror to a young child who desperately needed at least nine hours of sleep a night and had only received four in the past week.
"Tired?" The master whispered. His inner pride demanded he put the child down that instant, but the lack of warmth in his life held tightly to the boy.
"Mhmm." John allowed his master to bundle him in his robe and throw him roughly onto the couch. He pulled his master's robe tightly around himself and yawned loudly. Sherlock went into the cupboard, there was a few small rattling sounds that caused John to peek at Sherlock. He was heating a boiler. "Whatcha doing, Master?"
"Rest." Sherlock order gently.
"You need it more than I do." The boy grumbled. He hadn't napped or slept in weeks, his childish instinct was making him irritable. Sherlock knelt by his side and passed him a mug. He ran a hand through the blond hair.
"Drink. It will help you sleep."
John pouted. "I'm not sleepy." He yawned again.
"Clearly." He tipped the mug under his chin, John swallowed greedily. The liquid was warm and sweet, it coated his throat, and calmed his system. He leaned his back against the couch, visibly starting to relax.
"I don't want more dreams." The boy said sleepily.
"This will help. I used it when I was a boy." He picked the bundle up into his arms bridal style, John twisted until his face was pressed into Sherlock's chest. John was murmuring incoherent things as Sherlock carried him into his new room. The little boy's eyes drooped.
"What was in that drink, Master?" John at last managed to form a sentence. Sherlock laid him on his queen sized bed. John pulled the robe tighter around him.
"Milk, honey, and sleeping herbs." Sherlock readjusted his robe around the boy's tiny form. He pulled the comforter over his robe and tucked the child in. He ran a comforting hand through the padawan's hair as John yawned softly. He put a hand over his padawan's smooth brow and nudged his mind into sleep. John reached up to his master and closed his little hand around the long fingers. Sherlock pressed his forehead against John's, to his surprise John whimpered. "Little one?"
"Can you stay with me? Just tonight is all. Not cause I'm scared or anything, cause the Force is with me, but…"
The bell rang loudly, cutting off the child's rant. Sherlock pulled his forehead away from John's. His padawan gripped his arm. "No." The boy whined, the herbs were making it impossible for him to think straight. Sherlock pried himself away from the baby swiftly.
"I'll be right back." He assured John. The boy pulled himself up and forced himself into his master's arms. The herbs were taken away his Force given reason. Sherlock frowned, he had given John the same amount his master used to give him.
Then again Sherlock used to never sleep without aid.
John pulled himself into Sherlock's hold, he nuzzled deep into the older man's chest. "John, you need to sleep in your bed."
"Please." He whimpered.
"In your bed, wait for me." He laid John back down. "Stay here, little one."
He hardened his heart as the boy cried for him. He would not allow anyone else to know he was attached, he would not give them reason to take John away. He slid the door open quietly. Donavan was waiting outside for him.
"What?" He asked coldly.
"Where's John?" She asked crudely.
"Sleeping. Or trying to. What do you really want, Donavan?"
"It is none of your concern, young one." She said wisely.
Sherlock snarled at her. "Then goodnight."
"Have you told him yet?" She inquired. Her voice was as cruel as when he was a boy. His hair bristled.
"It is no concern of yours…"
"He was in my keeping, Sherlock. He was my boy, I will not have you…"
"Not have me what? Turn him dark?" He hissed. "What's going on, Master?"
"Nothing you won't soon find out. May I see the boy?"
"MY padawan is asleep. He needs rest, no you may not see MY boy." He allowed the door to slid shut on the master's face. He ran his hand through his hair. He was exhausted, he was ready to sleep for a year. John was crying for him in the other room.
He would not put nearly as much herbs in it the next time if the boy had trouble sleeping.
Sherlock pulled the boy against his chest and allowed him to lay there for the remainder of the night. He could sense calm over the boy's end of the bond, no nightmares plagued him that night. Sherlock kept his arms around the boy through the night.
John would not go dark.
He would not.
Over Sherlock's dead body.