Anthea again provides them with their first set of clothing, considering nothing they had before fits them, and most of it is being returned to the stores by the PA, the rest of it is being donated to worthy causes. There is a bathroom attached to the room they were in, and John stands in front of it, looking at himself in the mirror. Looking to be sixteen years old now, he notices that he looks as he did at 16. Which at the time meant he was broader, more buff since he was playing football at school. Not to an extreme amount of course, but he was in pretty good shape for his age.
The strangest thing though is his shoulder, where there was once a bullet wound and a rather ugly scar, is now almost gone. At least the deep scarring that was there, there's till skin discoloration and some scarring on both sides of his shoulder but it's all superficial now.
"Are you finished admiring yourself?" Sherlock asks, having gotten his hair taken care of and now he's wearing a pair of jeans that hug his hips a bit and sit a little low, and a t-shirt that flatters his slim frame. Despite his words, he does step forward curiously, pressing his long fingers lightly into the back of John's shoulder, leaning forward to examine the skin. "Interesting. Your body appears to have healed itself. There is a certain amount of sense to it, since many of your injuries would not have occurred as your body re-makes itself." He points out as he looks at his friend for a few moments, finally removing his hand as he moves beside John, looking at him in the mirror before he picks up some of his toiletries so he can brush his teeth. Where John has gotten a bit broader and stockier, Sherlock has remained the same, tall and lean, taller than John by quite a bit already, though they do seem to be about the same age now. He is still pale of course, but with more weight than he does as an adult, but still a generally lean body.
"Yeah, all of my aches and pains are gone, but being younger, a lot of the problems that come with being older haven't happened yet. So yeah, it makes sense." John agrees, rolling his shoulder a little before he finally puts on his t-shirt, moving aside a little so that Sherlock can have access to the sink. "Bloody hell, you're as skinny as ever." He says with a chuckle, poking him lightly in the side. "When you were eavesdropping on the scientist types, did you figure out their theory on what happened?" He asks as he runs a comb through his hair and reaches past Sherlock to grab a bit of product for his hair, nothing fancy, washing his hands off after he's done.
Sherlock nods a little as he brushes his teeth, waiting until he can spit before he can answer John. "Yes. It seems that they did not count on the sedative they administered us. The mice did not get such treatment. The various scientists - if you can call them that - under my brother's employ, did not count on the interaction of the sedative and their so-called cure." He says as he looks at John, before he rinses out his mouth before he scratches his head a little. "That is a sloppy mistake they should have accounted for. Drug interaction should have been one of the first things they looked at. They did not even ask if we were taking any medications before injecting us. Surely my brother would have informed them, but he is not all-knowing, we were out of his supervision for quite some time." he says in a disapproving tone.
John nods a little, leaning back against the wall since he doesn't need to be in there anymore, but he is chatting with Sherlock, so he's not about to go out. "Bloody sedatives. So if they had done their jobs right we could be back to normal right now." He says in annoyance, shaking his head for a few moment and sighing. "Right. Great. I am sure that I'm glad we had the sedatives, but you're absolutely right. You don't just randomly mix medications, not without knowing how they will interact with each other." he says with another little shake of his head. "Presumably we go back to Mycroft's place again, or can we finally go back to Baker Street?" he asks as he watches Sherlock, just wanting to go home and sleep in his own bed, though he wonders if he can continue to keep his friend on the regular sleep schedule they have been working on in the last few days. Thinking of that of course makes him think of the fact that he and Sherlock have been sharing a bed and how odd it will be to go back to sleeping on his own. And yet, he's not about to ask the detective if they can continue to share a bed, since that would be a little more awkward now, especially since he finds himself admiring the way Sherlock' shirt clings to his shoulders, and the way his jeans hug his hips a bit, something that he has to shake his head to snap himself out of.
Looking at the previously older man in the mirror as Sherlock pats his face dry, Sherlock arches an eyebrow for a moment, but he doesn't comment if he realizes why John might have shaken his head like that. "I see no reason why we cannot return to Baker Street. We both look different enough to not be considered our older selves. You could pass for your own cousin, or something of that sort. Even an illegitimate child." he says with a little bit of amusement as he looks over his friend, turning and stepping back into the main room to sit down and put his shoes on, his movements a little more loose, a little less manic, making him look a little more graceful. "Teenagers doing the shopping and such is much more acceptable." He says as he picks up his phone, checking messages and sending off some quick texts.
Following him back into the main hospital room area, John nods quietly. "That's true enough. We'd just be seen as nice young men who are doing our parents a favor, rather than people worrying why we were out by ourselves." He says as he looks at Sherlock again for a moment, shaking his head as he moves over closer. "Anything interesting?" he asks as he sees the detective messing with his phone, which means he has some sort of message on it.
"Mmm. Not really, a few cases which I can solve without looking at anything else. Dull." Sherlock says with a frustrated sigh, before he looks over at his friend. "We should find Mycroft, so we can leave this place." he says as he looks around in disgust, not liking hospitals. "Make sure our things are together, John." he says before he walks toward the door to try and find his brother, opening it to reveal that Mycroft had just been reaching for the handle to come in. "Mycroft." He greets dully.
Stepping past his little brother and into the room, Mycroft glances at them both. "Well. This was an unexpected turn, but it's progress, however." he pauses as he looks at the determined faces of the two teenagers. "I expect you'll want to return to Baker Street, I've had Anthea gather your belongings and return them, except for your clothes, naturally. A car will pick you up tomorrow morning, and bring you to get some clothes." he says before he holds out a black credit card toward his brother. "Do try not to go overboard." he warns as he looks at Sherlock.
John rolls his eyes a little at the antics of the two. "Thank you for letting us go home, Mycroft. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson has cleaned up anything toxic, bless her. It'll be good to sleep in my own bed again." he admits as he pulls on the jacket that was provided, which is a similar styling to his black one, made of a heavy, water-resistant canvas, patting his pockets to make sure he has his phone and everything else. Without thinking about it, he picks up Sherlock's phone and moves around, tucking it into the boy's front pocket before he looks at Mycroft.
Nodding slowly, the brunette detective takes the card from his brother. "Very well." he says in distaste, hating the shopping part. He only glances down to see what John is putting in his pocket, then he returns his attention to Mycroft. "We would like to return home now." he says before he takes his jacket from John, a long duster though not as nice as his other one, slipping into it and flipping the collar up.
"Bloody hell. Not with the collar again." John grumbles a little as he watches his friend, shaking his head and grinning a little again.
Looking between the two for a few moments, Mycroft considers the change in their relationship, and of course the insights he's getting into them since he hasn't had a chance to observe them this closely except through CCTV, and that is not exactly accurate. "Very well. Anthea has gotten clothes that will get you through until tomorrow, they are waiting in the car downstairs. Shall we?" He asks, motioning toward the door before leading the way through the building back to the typical black, sleek car that is once again.
By the time they get back to Baker Street, Sherlock actually looks a little sleepy, and the boys get out with their bags, and besides a mumbled goodbye, no more words are exchanged with Mycroft. Instead, as always, John steps up to the door and unlocks it, sighing in relief as he opens the door and lets Sherlock in, before trudging upstairs. "We can tell Mrs. Hudson we're back tomorrow, let her sleep tonight." He offers as he looks over at Sherlock for a moment, and then continues to go up the stairs, smirking a little as he sees the state of the flat, and dropping his bags inside the door.
Following behind his doctor, Sherlock looks around the flat and removes his jacket, hanging it up before he walks over to the window, closing the curtains before he turns to go into the kitchen, actually starting the kettle for some tea and taking down two mugs. "We should get some rest, I doubt our bodies have fully recovered yet." he says matter-of-factly as he looks back at the other boy.
Watching Sherlock curiously, John follows him into the kitchen and completes the process of making tea, nodding a little. "We need to eat something first. There should be.." He glances around and then smiles. "Bless Mrs. Hudson." he says as he slides over a tin and opens it, revealing some pastries that their landlady brought by for breakfast a few days ago, but thanks to the sealed tin, are good as fresh. "We'll get some Chinese tomorrow." he says as he hands over Sherlock's tea and lays the tin on the counter to retrieve one of the pastries to eat. "This will give us some quick carbs at least, something for our bodies to burn through."
Sighing a little since he doesn't really want to eat, Sherlock nonetheless takes one of the pastries and eats, finishing up two before he can think about broaching the subject that he wanted to ask John about, since it's a little awkward. "John." he finally says to attract his friend's attention. "I understand that you wish to return to your own bed, however, I have slept better these past few nights. I believe that has been due to your presence." He avoids looking at John, and instead stares down into his tea cup, spinning it around slowly. "I propose an experiment, and since you are so insistent on me sleeping, I request you assist me with it." he says as he tries to recover some of his self control and his usual emotional discipline.
Rolling his eyes at the antics of his flatmate, John sighs a little, and since he has been thinking about this as well, his answer is rather easy, "Alright, then. We'll have to use your bed, mine's too small. I hope it's comfortable, because if I hurt in the morning, I swear to God, I will hurt you, Sherlock." he says as he finishes his tea and sets the cup in the sink, shaking his head since he is still a little shorter than his full height, if only by an inch or two it's enough to make his perceptions a little off.
Once the answer is given, Sherlock relaxes a little. "Of course it's comfortable. It would have been much better for your older body. With you being as young as you are, I very much doubt you would have to worry about morning aches and pains unless you slept on the floor." He reminds his friend, putting his mug in the sink as well, before he goes to grab sleeping clothes out of his bag, "It does worry me a bit that Anthea seems to so closely know our taste in clothes." He states before he goes off to his bedroom, closing the door so he can change.
"Bloody lunatic.." John mutters once Sherlock's door is closed, but he takes his sleeping clothes out of his bag as well, going to the bathroom in order to change, noticing that the detective's door is open when he comes back out, he pushes open the door the rest of the way and looks into the surprisingly smallish bedroom, sparsely decorated and very clean. Apparently all the mess has been banished to the rest of the flat. "Right, then." he says as he looks at where Sherlock is standing by the window, and he gets into what he has come to think of as 'his' side of the bed, stretching out a little. "Bloody hell, this is comfortable.." he mutters as he stares at the ceiling.
Turning from the window and removing his dressing gown which he had donned at some point, Sherlock turns to the bed, smirking a little. "After all this time, you doubt me?" He tsks as he goes to turn the lights off and then makes his way back to the bed, slipping under the covers and turning to face John. "Thank you, John." he finally says after a few moments, hesitating before he lays his hand out in the middle of the bed, as they did a few days ago.
"You're welcome, Sherlock." John says with another little smile as he looks at his flatmate in the lights coming from outside the window which just make him look a little ethereal. Noticing the hand placement, John nods as he gets comfortable, then he reaches across and lays his hand over Sherlock's, giving it a small squeeze. "Living with you is never boring, I'll say that. Goodnight, Sherlock." he says with another smile, leaving his hand on top of Sherlock's before he closes his eyes.
Relaxing a little with a faint smile and then closing his eyes, Sherlock whispers. "It's why you like me, John. Goodnight." Before he allows himself to drift off to sleep.
Extra long chapter because I missed posting last week. A little more on the teenager-y John and Sherlock! A little more adult, little more toward Johnlock. :) Racing onward now, lets see what happens to the boys next! Thank you everyone for reading!
Reviews/Comments welcome!