After John finishes quite a bit of stuff on his little makeshift fort, he heads inside, taking his shoes off just inside the door like a good boy before he grabs himself a bottle of water from the kitchen and heads upstairs to try and find Sherlock. He smiles a little when he hears the sound of Sherlock playing the violin, not realizing that he's actually missed that sound. He follows it to the room they're sharing and smiles a little. "Seems like you haven't lost your ability to play, but then again, you're still ridiculously tall, aren't you?"
A little surprised because he was almost in a sort of trance while he was playing, Sherlock stops and turns to look at John. "Mycroft retrieved it from Baker Street." he says as he looks at the violin for a few moments, before he smiles a little as he puts it back in the violin case. "I was seven when it was ten actually, when it was given to me." he says quietly.
"Really? You've had it that long?" John asks in surprise as he watches Sherlock. "I would have thought anything worth that much would have been.. well, it might have possibly been sold during your drug days." he says as he hops up onto the bed and sits there to watch Sherlock.
Sherlock tilts his head as he runs his fingers over the wood of the violin where it sits in its case. "This is the only thing that.. survived." He says quietly with a nod of his head. "I couldn't bear to part with it." He slowly shuts the case and snaps it shut. "Mycroft gave it to me. We were both taught some form of music, but it was only the violin that I took to. The only thing that could truly distract me." He says as he stares out of the window and thinks about those days, when he was just two years younger than he appears to be right now. "Mummy had already sent me to specialists, doctors. To find out why I was the way I am.. They did an IQ test, behavioral tests, even genetic testing, even though such things were no more accurate than throwing a dart at a board." he says with a sigh as he stares out the window. "Mycroft thought that if I learned to play the violin, maybe that would channel some of my energy, allow me to connect to those around me." he says as he looks around for a few moments.
Listening silently, John watches Sherlock for a few moments, taking a deep breath as he listens to the story. "Sounds like you had a very lonely childhood. Mycroft doesn't seem so bad, anymore.. I mean.. since we've been here he hasn't been bad. And he seems like he was rather caring when you were younger, from what you've told me." And this confuses him since the Mycroft that they've dealt with before now has been very different, much more of an arrogant git. Now he actually seems like a caring big brother and John wonders if it's easier for the older man to deal with them as children. It confuses him a little.
"Yes. It seems as much as we have reverted physically it has made Mycroft revert mentally." Sherlock says as he continues to stare out the window, before he slowly turns and walks over to hop up on the bed beside John, just sitting there beside his friend. "It's strange. This is the closest I've been to my brother for over a decade." He says as he stares at the floor, swinging his legs a little and letting his heels hit against the bed when they come back. "He gave me that violin. No matter how much I hated my brother, I never got rid of that violin." he says quietly as he looks around the room slowly, his sharp eyes taking everything in, focusing on the little details.
John considers, nodding a little and scratching the back of his head for a moment. "Yeah. Maybe this is a good chance for you and Mycroft to.. I dunno. Reconnect or something." he offers, rocking sideways to knock his shoulder into Sherlock's before he smiles a little. "Wouldn't hurt to maybe let him back into your life. We might be stuck this way for a while, afterall. Might not be a bad thing." He says as he turns his head to watch the detective's profile for a few moments.
Nodding a little, Sherlock takes a deep breath. "Perhaps. What about you and Harry? She doesn't know about this yet and if we are stuck this way it will be difficult to maintain our adult personas. I have no doubt that it would be more difficult for you to reconnect with Harriet. You should probably make a post on your blog, I made a post on mine earlier. Of course you have a different manner of writing than I do." he says with a fluttering wave of his hand in the vague direction of a laptop, John's laptop, which is now sitting on the desk over by the window.
"I hadn't thought about it. We barely ever talk anyway. It will be some time before I have to think about it." John says before he ohs. "He got my laptop." he says as he hops off the bed and walks over to retrieve it. Since it seems to be on its charger, he unplugs it and moves toward the bed again, crawling up onto it to start up the laptop. "Do you really think we'll be stuck like this, Sherlock?" He asks tentatively as he looks at the brunette and logs into his laptop to load up his blog, not even questioning how the wireless is set up already, he has a feeling a certain someone might have hacked his laptop. For the moment he decides not to comment on it.
Sherlock shakes his head as he looks over at John. "No, I don't think we will, John. Not permanently. A few months, perhaps even a year. But not permanently." He reassures the doctor, running a hand through his hair before he flops backwards on the bed, arms outstretched and staring up at the ceiling.
"That's certainly a bit better than what I was thinking." John says with a nod of his head. "I would rather not go through puberty a second time." He says with a little sigh. "And that is assuming that we will age normally. I hope we will. That would be even worse." He says with a little shake a he starts his hunt-and-peck type of typing as he tries to work on a blog entry explaining that he and Sherlock have gone to the States to work on a big case there and won't be available for consulting for a while, except by email, especially since neither of them want a phone call or something to blow their cover so the numbers listed on the website will not be answered. Of course he only writes this after reading what Sherlock put on his own site so that their stories will mesh without being identical. Of course, John's more creative writing style pretty much ensures that their accounts will not be identical.
Putting one forearm over his eyes for a few moments before he lets it fall out beside him again, Sherlock groans. "No, I don't want to go through puberty again either. The year my voice changed was not a pleasant one. I nearly lost my voice altogether for about a month during the worst of it." He says as he makes a face of disgust, shaking his head for a few moments and turning his head a little. "Maybe you can learn to type properly this time." he decides, though in truth the gentle tapping isn't too bad to listen to.
For a minute John stops in his typing and shakes his head a little, running a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell, Sherlock. We've got enough problems, I don't need to be worrying about my blood typing.
I'm sorry my updates have become so erratic, I've got too many stories going on all at once, but I am trying to fix that! I am trying to finish up a few so I can focus on this one and two others of mine that I love. :) Thanks everyone for bearing with me.
Because there seems to be some confusion about this, this story is intended to EVENTUALLY be Johnlock. Obviously not right now, since they're just kids. And at this point I don't even know when it will happen, but that is the goal I am heading toward. I hope that clears up any confusion.
Thank you all for reading and for commenting, please let me know what you think!
Reviews/comments are welcome!