The Orphan

Summary: When Sherlock decides to go shopping out of boredom, he witness Ella getting beaten. When he scares away the bullies he does something that will change everything. Meanwhile John is starting to question if really isn't gay.

Disclaimer: To bad, too bad. I sadly do not own Sherlock. I do however own everything in this story that doesn't happen in the Sherlock.

Auteurs note: This is my first romance Fanfiction. Please do review and give me hints, but no flame please. Don't like, don't read. Thank you and enjoy.

Extra: It is rated K but there will be mention of child abuse.

Chapter 5 (John's POV):

When Sherlock left I grabbed my head. What had just happened? Did Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, just say you're welcome to someone? Had this really happened? Had his ignorant friend really just brought up a young girl, in distress and helped her out of the good will of his heart? No way. That wasn't possible.

He heard Sherlock come up the stairs. *Well Sherlock. Did you send her on her way home?* *You mad? That girl was in pain and apparently lost, no, I bought her a ride home. I stared. I didn't do anything but stare. I opened my mouth, and shut it again.

*Who are you? And what have you done with Sherlock?* I asked. *What did I do now, John?* *Don't tell me you helped that girl out of the goodness in your heart. Cuz I am not buying it.* *Well, maybe I changed. Sometimes people change.* *Yes but not in on night! What is going on? Why were you so kind to that girl? You are never kind to anyone?*

He sigh and sat down. *Sherlock? What's wrong?* *I was walking to the shop when I heard shouting, name calling to be precise. I went to see what was going on and what I saw was so much as what happened to me. A young girl was getting beaten by a group of older boys. No one stopping. That girl was crying. And I recognized myself in her.* *Wait, wait, wait.* I was confused. *Why would you recognize yourself in someone getting beaten?*

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. *Really John? I thought that was kind of obvious. When I was a child I was bullied and beaten. In the beginning Mycroft could protect me, but then he went to the university and I had to fend for myself.* *You were bullied?* I had had no idea of that. *Why didn't you say so?* *Because it was obvious. Now let me continue.* I nodded for him to go ahead.
*So, I saw this and I decided I needed to step in. When I told the boys to back of, they refused. They threatened me. So I warned them that that wasn't a good idea. But they didn't stop so I pulled out my gun. I wasn't going to shoot, the safe was still on. But they didn't know that.*

*You threatened teenage boys with a gun?* *They were threatening me with a knife and bullying a child.* *Yes, but…* *But what?* Indeed. But what? Was I going to stand up for those bullies? Really? Sherlock did what he had to, to help that girl. It was a little extreme, but that was Sherlock. Always extreme. And that is why I loved him. Wait. What? Did I really just think that?

*Thought as much.* Sherlock said, interrupting my thoughts. * So when those kids were gone, I helped the girl up and brought her to our flat. I was going to bring her to a doctor, but she begged me not to. Probably the same reason why she lied about her address and last name.*

*She did what?* *She lied, John. Probably isn't too proud about her identity.* *And did you point it out to her? That she lied.* *No, I felt some sort of respect for her. She didn't need me to annoy her.*

Okay, now I was concerned. Sherlock rarely respected people. And most certainly never children. *You respected her?* *Yes, she did the one thing I never did, when I was bullied. You see, I would always run. Or hid. Yes, she did run. But when she noticed she wouldn't get away, she turned around and fought. And hard to. One of the boys had a black eye. One had a bleeding nose and the others, light bruises and scratches. One of them was limping when they ran away. She tried to take it up against 6 older boys. And that, my dear Watson, requires a lot of courage.*

I was moved by this. Sherlock did have feelings. He did care and he would protect. But I couldn't help but notice the happy feeling in my stomach when he said: My dear Watson.

*It's good to know you still have emotions.*I said trying to hide away my awkwardness. *I thought you knew I had feelings John. I show you mine often enough.*

Now what did that mean?!