Runaway Home

Chp 5

It had been a normal day, or at least as normal as things get at 221b, before the case had started. John had grown accustomed to case files and crime scene photos, he had even gotten used to the detective bursting into his room at three in the morning with his deductions. This case was something else though; it was nothing like the boy had ever seen. Sherlock was in top form, he was rattling off deductions like crazy and chasing down clue after clue, and yet the answers still eluded him. The best part of all of it however was that he'd asked for John's help. Simple tasks, nothing too extreme, just for a second opinion on most of his observations, but no…those weren't the best part, the best part was he'd taken him with him to a crime scene! God, he could barely contain his excitement! He should have been bored, or scared, or grossed out, or even just plain confused. But no, he was teeming with excitement. It had been by accident really, not intentional on the detective's part at all but it happened none the less. John didn't know it yet, but being at that crime scene was the turning point, it was where everything would change. What he doesn't know is that if it weren't for that rather insignificant event, he would have led a long and boring life as a doctor with a little boy named John jr. and a little girl named something equally as boring such as Suzie, and he'd have a lovely wife who made jammy-dodgers and attended all of the school events. Yes, and he would have been happy, although, just a tad bit bored. He didn't know about any of that, not the little boy nor the jammy-dodgers, and he never would, because it was on this day in which the detective had by some random twist of fate decided to treat John to dinner and wound up leading him through a particularly strange string of suicides…

"Sherlock, you can't bring the kid to a crime scene!"

Lestrade hollered as the detective and his young friend strolled into the run down apartment complex. John gave a nervous smile to the disgruntled inspector as Sherlock ignored the protests.

"Did you here me? This is no place for a kid; this is an official police investigation! It's bad enough I let you in, I can't have some kid tampering with evidence!"

Lestrade pressed chasing after the tall man. Sherlock turned curtly to look at the inspector face to face.

"No? I'd have thought that's what you would have liked, seeing as all you do is employ people who tamper with my evidence."

Lestrade crossed his arms in a huff and eyed the detective dangerously. If Sherlock hadn't instructed John earlier to just leave this to him, he probably would have given in right then. He had to agree (no matter how much it pained him) that it didn't seem appropriate to let anybody, much less a minor, into a crime scene. Sherlock insisted that he didn't want to bother with sending John home in the case that this was just another 'boring' case, in which case he'd be done quickly and have plenty of time to still take John to dinner.

"Your evidence? Nice, listen I can't go breaking all of the rules for you, just send him home."

Sherlock took an opposing step forward so that he was looking down at the inspector while John made himself busy studying the laces on his sneakers.

"No. He's with me."

With that the detective spun around and grabbed hold of John's shoulder as he led the boy up the stairs. The inspector wasn't far behind and he made his way up the steps in rapid procession.

"I don't bloody care who he's with, this is my crime scene!"

When the three made it to the top of the steps Sherlock once again brought his fearsome gaze upon the grey haired man.

"Do you want my help or not? Honestly, I'd probably be done by now if it weren't for all your chattering."

Lestrade held his stare for a long time before letting out a resentful grunt, the defeated man waved the detective and his boy into the room where the woman was found dead. Sherlock smirked and John nodded his head appreciatively before they entered. As the blond passed through the doorway he became aware of three very startling facts. The first one was the most obvious, which was that there was a dead woman on the floor. John wasn't stupid, he'd known the woman would be there, but knowing it and seeing it are two different things. He'd never seen a dead body up close before, he'd never even been to a funeral, and there was something deeply unsettling to him now that he was in the presence of a lifeless person. The woman dressed head to toe in pink seemed to scream out to him, it made his blood run cold. There was nothing he could do to help, she was already gone. That wasn't completely true though, he could help Sherlock find her killer. Which brought him to his second observation: Sherlock. Or, rather, the look on Sherlock's face. His eyes were lit up with something John couldn't quite place, it was a mix of curiosity, deduction, and…joy. He'd known Sherlock to be happy with a new case, he enjoyed the hunt, but he hadn't imagined he'd look so happy to see an innocent person lying dead. John had only known Sherlock for a little over two months now, but he'd lived with him, ate with him, talked with him…he was fairly certain he would know if the man found enjoyment from the death of others. So the gleeful look that overtook the taller man's features was certainly startling. He figured that was just part of the game perhaps, he probably didn't see it as a dead woman, she was just another clue to finding the killer, another piece to the puzzle. The third thing John noticed was far more alarming believe it or not. What shocked John the most was not being in the presence of a very dead woman, or his friend seeming to take far too much interest in said dead woman, it was that he was excited. He got chills watching Sherlock deduce, trying to solve the riddle, catch the bad guy, better still was the thought of them catching this guy. John wasn't sure that's how it usually worked, but he'd known Sherlock to have to become physical with suspects, or to go running all over London searching for them. So while it may or may not have been common place, John let himself fantasize about scouring the city in search of the mad genius who'd gotten three people to commit suicide, about finding him and feeling the satisfaction of pounding his fists into the murder's face. He found himself smiling at the thought but quickly corrected himself; it wouldn't do for Lestrade to think he was some sort of psychopath.

His attentions were soon drawn outwards as Sherlock began rattling off all of his findings to the questioning inspector. Something about a string of lovers, a dirty ring, a wet coat…it was fascinating but also just a bit above John's level of thought. He wondered idly if he would always be so far behind Sherlock, or if the man found that irritating. He definitely found most unintelligent people insufferable; the two officers who'd greeted them coming in were a good example. Sherlock hadn't paid them much attention though; they'd barely had time to speak before he started rattling off deductions about their devious romantic attachment.

"What case?"

Lestrade's insistent tone pulled John away from his thoughts and once again on the two men inspecting the dead woman.

"The case, her case, the one she came in with. It has to be here somewhere, what have your people done with it?"

The inspector rubbed his eyes tiredly as the detective flew about the room searching for this case.

"There wasn't any case Sherlock, there is no case."

Sherlock stopped abruptly and for a moment John thought perhaps his brain had simply shut down. The detective recovered quickly, much to the relief of the boy, and began leading John out of the room.

"Brilliant! Come along John!"

Not that he would have argued, but John found that he didn't have much choice in leaving the room as Sherlock pushed him along quite forcefully.

"Wait Sherlock! What about the case?"

Lestrade called down from the top of the stairs as the pair made their way out of the building. Without missing beat Sherlock snapped around to look up at the man.

"Pink!"

He shouted up at the inspector and then continued to shove John out of the building. The blond managed to stifle a shriek when he stumbled out of the door to come face to face with the very officers who previously seemed hell bent to keep the detective and himself out of the building earlier.

"Hello freak, done making a mess of our crime scene?"

The woman quipped blocking their path down the steps.

"Sally, please do get out of the way, I haven't the time for this in the slightest. Unlike you lot, I've got a murder to investigate."

Sherlock retorted trying to maneuver around Sally only to be cut off by the sickly faced man to her right.

"Surprisingly enough we're not as concerned about that psychopath as we are of the one in front of us."

For a moment John became concerned that the strange man was referring to himself but when Sherlock's grip on the shoulder he'd been pushing moments ago tightened the boy looked backwards to see that the detective's face had contorted in an odd manor. So the comment had been directed at the taller man, which made far more sense if he thought of it since the two officers had never met John before and it would be hard for them to back such a theory. At any rate he wasn't exactly pleased with the revelation, in fact he found himself more than just a bit peeved with their attitude towards his flat mate.

"Is there a point here Anderson or are you two just intentionally wasting my time for no particular reason?"

Sherlock asked with a profound amount of contempt dripping from his words. Sally stepped forward to crowd them in the door way more than previously causing John to flush a bit as he was practically sand-whiched between the female officer and his tall friend.

"Yeah, Lestrade told us about your little rent boy here and we thought it our civic duty to inform you we'll be keeping an even closer eye on you. Don't think that we won't launch a full scale investigation if he so much as gets a peculiar scratch."

John's discomfort for this situation only grew, not only because of Sally's crude comment. Although, that was certainly a part of it as he was growing more and more displeased with these two both accusing Sherlock of being some sort of monster he clearly is not and of the theory that John was some rent boy. Another very different sort of discomfort started to arise when she spoke as well. Sherlock appeared to have noticed the boy's uneasiness with being squashed between the arguing adults and had decided the best remedy to the situation was to pull his small form flush against his own, so to widen the gap between him and Sally.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? To find some reason to pin me with a crime. Best of luck to you, because I assure you if I wanted to commit a crime there definitely wouldn't be enough evidence to convict me with your tiny intellects."

The two seemed to be sedated for the time being as they stopped talking and simply glared at the detective. Sherlock didn't stand there for long, instead surged forward with John under his arm to break through the gate they'd formed at the top of the stairs. They were silent other than their breathing for quite some time after that as they made their way towards the main road. Sherlock's grasp hadn't loosened any and it was starting to concern the boy. Had their comments made an impact on the detective? Surely he would be smart enough to ignore anything those idiots said. None the less, John felt it imperative to lighten the mood some how.

"Those two are some massive pricks, eh?"

The tall man didn't respond, nor did he make any acknowledgement that he'd even been listening, he just carried on dragging John through the streets.

"Sherlock? Are you-"

John's voice was drowned out by the screech of tires as a taxi pulled up along side them, at Sherlock's request it seemed given his signature wave towards the driver. The detective opened the back door and forcefully pushed the boy into the seat.

"Hey, what's the matter with you?"

John asked rubbing his now sore arm.

"You should be at home, go and get some rest. I'll be back later; I've just got to go take care of some things."

Just as the man moved to shut the door John's arm shot out to wedge it open.

"Wait, I can help, I could come with you…keep you company?"

It was a stretch, but what could he say? Don't leave; I don't like being away from you? Please, I really want to find something to hit? No, the detective would either laugh at his eagerness or scold it.

"You would only slow me down I'm afraid, good night John."

And with that the detective shut the door with a loud thunk sending the boy hurtling towards Baker Street in no time. Despite the time and John's overwhelming desire to burry himself beneath his covers, he found himself instead climbing the stairs and laying himself down on the sofa. He pulled out his mobile and laid it down on the arm of the chair, that way if the detective called for his help he would be more than ready to answer. For now though he decided to rest his eyes and let sleep over take him.

A few hours later John woke up to the sound of his phone and the steady breath of one very close flat mate. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he became very aware of his new sleeping arrangements. At some point during his nap on the sofa Sherlock had placed himself underneath the boy so that John's blond hair was tickling the underside of his chin and his face was pressed into one of the detective's lean pectorals. If two large hand hadn't been holding him in place he would have fallen off the seat in his panic. He'd never slept in the same bed with somebody, and he'd certainly never slept in such an intimate position before. This was completely new and strange and oddly fantastic. John was sure that he loved the detective; he had since week three, but was he…in love? God, it seemed like such a ridiculous question. There were some signs, hints, but he had been certain of his heterosexual status and wasn't so sure he was willing to let that go. He'd never considered the alternative, and it was a scary thought. Kids in his home town had never been met with open arms if they 'came out' and John wasn't so sure that those same guidelines didn't apply to here in London. Besides, the detective was in his twenties, he wouldn't be interested in some sixteen year old. So John simply did his best to slip out of the tall man's grasp with out waking him. Which was odd as well, he usually never had to worry about waking Sherlock during an investigation. Something was up, and John would have to do his best to get to the bottom of it. Once free from Sherlock's sleepy vice grip John reached over to check his phone which had been moved to the coffee table. On the screen there was an indication for a text message from an unknown number. Not uncommon for Mycroft to send him a message from some unrecognizable phone. He opened it and eyed the message curiously. It read: come with me. Odd, even for Mycroft, but not so out of the ordinary for the boy to question it. He gave the detective a lingering glance and wondered if he should wake him and inform him of his departure. However, it was rare that he slept and he probably needed it desperately. So instead he opted for leaving a quick note lying on the coffee table in front of him.

That taken care of, John put his jacket back on and headed down the stairs, only stepping lightly on the third creaky step. When he made it out the door however, something unsettling formed in the pit of his stomach. Mycroft had sent a taxi? That was really strange, very out of character. He shrugged it off, must have been something in the water, and it was making both of the Holmes boys barmy. He couldn't shake the bad feeling he got when he came closer to the cab though. Mycroft worked in mysterious ways he supposed and hopped inside the taxi with little protest. If he'd known who this man was he would have run at the sight of the cab, he would have run away from that cold blooded old man and straight into a future with his lamely named children. This isn't a story about boring children and bored doctors though, and that is why instead of running, the boy sat in the back of that cab and waited.

Hello! Things are getting heated now! Thanks for all the reviews everybody and please feel free to check out my tumblr (carpesherlock) to see the fan art I've drawn for this story.