Hey, sorry this took forever! The next one should be up much sooner!

Enjoy!

John woke up to Sebastian was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. John threw the covers off, sending his bears flying, panicking a little. "Wh-what's wrong?"

Sebastian stopped his dashing about. "We are going to be late for school, get ready as fast as you can. Change in my room, the bathroom, I don't care!" He continued shoving papers into a bag.

John grabbed at his bag, sprinting to the bathroom, spilling a few items on the ground. Including his phone which skittered under the couch.

John threw on his clothes, brushing his teeth rapidly. He runs out with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

"Here. Eat." Sebastian ran into the bathroom, as he passed, he throws a slice of toast at John. John catches it and goes to take a bite… realizing at the last second why that was a bad idea.

"Oh, bad idea." He rinsed his mouth in the kitchen sink, then took another bite of toast. Sebastian ripped open the door, putting on his shoes as he walked.

"Okay, let's go."

They left. John unknowingly leaving his clothes, bears, and, most frighteningly, his phone behind.

School was as it always was. Boring. John didn't see Sebastian all day. He had realized in his fourth class he had left things at Sebastian's house. He kind of needed them. If Sherlock sent a text, he expected John to drop what he was doing and reply. If he didn't, Sherlock assumed John was in trouble. John was panicking slightly the rest of the day.

When the final bell rang, he raced to Sebastian's classroom. He ran into the teacher, quite literally, in the hall on his way there, nearly toppling them both. Only John fell.

"In a hurry?"

"I was looking for you…" John rubbed the back of his neck, taking the hand Sebastian offered.

Little did either know, they had an audience. A teacher, Mr. Conan, was watching the scene play out in front of him, his horror growing as the out of context conversation went on.

"Any particular reason?" Moran smirked, putting the hidden teacher on edge. He had never liked Moran. He was a horrible person and an even worse teacher.

"I left some stuff at your house from our… uh, 'sleep-over'… it's really important." Mr. Conan's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Moran had a student stay over? That was illegal.

"Ah, and here I thought you just missed me." Moran pouted.

"I-I mean, th-that too! B-but I left my phone there… Sherlock will not hesitate to turn the tracker on… then he'll know where you live… and where I was last night." Illegal and absolutely disgusting, Mr. Conan added.

"Eh, let him know. I'm sure he'll know sooner or later anyway. That guy knows everything."

"Well… almost everything." John blushed.

"Yeah. He probably doesn't know you crush on older guys."

"Sebastian!" John was as bright as a tomato. So John was on a first name basis? Not helping Sebastian's case. "That was a low blow!"

"I know, I know. Okay, want to head to my place now?"

"I-if you don't have any other plans…?"

"Ah, I just remembered. I have all the plans. Super important meeting or something. Can't avoid it."

John just laughed. "I'll help you clean up a little too… We made a mess last night in the living room…"

Moran pretended to think. "Compelling. Okay, you got yourself a date."

Mr. Conan had had enough. He needed to tell Sherlock.

It was common knowledge that he was the legal guardian of John Watson. He was furious at Moran. To even look at a student that way, it was a downright disgrace to teachers everywhere.

Mr. Conan walked away, pulling out his phone and looked up the number to reach Sherlock. He sighed. He hated being the bearer of bad news. He'd call the police if he thought they could do better than Sherlock. But, the teacher had seen his work. And, just maybe he could admit he wanted to impress Sherlock just a bit. But, mostly help John. Yeah. Help the kid.

On the walk over there, John was nearly bursting with anxiety. He didn't want Sherlock to worry about him. Even more, he didn't want Sherlock to call Greg and tell him he was missing… that always ended badly.

"Kid, worrying isn't going to get us there faster. Relax a little. I'm sure it's fine."

"You haven't seen him when he gets worked up…" John walked faster. Sebastian kept pace. When they finally got there, John darted around, looking desperately for his phone. When he found it sticking out from under the couch, he almost cried with relief.

Then it turned to dread. It was completely dead.

"The universe hates me!" He plugged it in, sitting down next to it, pulling his knees to his face.

"Oh, you're being dramatic. The universe hates everyone." Sebastian was unnerved to see the kid so distraught, but he couldn't help but find it a little amusing. He walked over to his laptop, checking to see if the boss had sent anymore instructions or information. He rubbed his hand over his face to see that he was in charge of taking care some people. The list was attached.

When John's phone powered back on, he saw there was no texts from Sherlock. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, the universe is back in my good book."

Sebastian chuckled, powering down the laptop. If the hits were that important the Boss would have sent a text instead.

John shook his head, setting the phone down to let it continue to charge. He walked to the mass of blankets and pillows and set to work, Sebastian by his side. They worked in silence. The mess took more than thirty minutes, many of which were because John, though by accident, started an intense pillow fight.

When they were finally done, Sebastian checked his phone. It was nearly half past four.

"Okay. I have to get back. Sherlock is expecting me, I think. When he doesn't text, that usually means he has some experiment he's really invested in… he likes me to be a subject in them if they aren't too terribly life threatening…"

"...I- that sounds unsanitary." Sebastian couldn't imagine the Boss running his experiments on John… though, ultimately, that was what Sebastian was afraid would become of John. He'd try to prevent that, though. The Boss ran different types of experiments… crueler, more dangerous… John was too sweet for that to become his fate.

"It is." John shuddered. Remembering the toes. Sherlock had stocked the fridge with them just to see how John reacted. Needless to say, John's reaction had been anticipated, however, in Sherlock's words, 'was amplified to an extent that was crucial for science.' Sherlock had taken a video for 'data' but John knew he was proud that he had caused John to pass out from yelling. John had been so mad, he hadn't talked to Sherlock three days after that.

"Well, I don't want to keep you from certain doom." Sebastian said chipperly.

"Gee, thanks…" John rolled his eyes.

They walked out, polite conversation as they walked.

Sherlock got a call. He usually didn't answer, but he recognised the number as one of John's teachers. He hadn't heard from John all day, so the call was kind of concerning.

He pressed the answer button. "Holmes." He set the phone down, putting it on speaker and turning back to his petri dish.

"Mr. Holmes… I have some, rather upsetting news about John. Earlier today, in the school halls I heard-"

"I don't partake in gossip. Good day." Sherlock had heard these calls before. They never ended well. He was one incident away from pulling John out of school and home schooling him. John wouldn't be happy, but people would quit bothering the boy all the time. And stop interrupting Sherlock when he was working.

"No! Wait, hear me out."

"Be quick. I've business to attend to." He set the phone back down and went to the stove, turning it on low.

"Do you know where John was last night?"

"Yes. He was at a friend's house. I do not care for you leading me on pointless beatings around the bush. Get to the point."

"Did he tell you his 'friend' was an adult? A teacher? His lover?"

Sherlock had heard accusations before. This teacher sounded like he fully believed what he was saying. Sherlock sighed. This was the last straw. John was being home schooled as soon as possible. Although… Sherlock had to admit, this time John didn't have a solid alibi, but he refused to believe John was capable of such a thing.

"You have proof, I assume."

"I heard them talking in the hall. They're going to his place right now."

Sherlock hung up. He couldn't hear anymore of this talk against John.

He was worried now that John wasn't home. It was nearly four. He was always home by this time. Even if he stopped to chat with people.

He walked from the stove, not bothering to turn it off, to the living room and turned on the tracker he had out on John's phone. Not John's phone… that created to many variables. If the phone was dead, it wouldn't work. No, he had one in the case of John's phone. As well as one in his phone, but that was beside the point. He pulled it up on his- John's- laptop.

Sherlock saw the dot, sitting in one spot, not moving in the direction of Baker Street. Sherlock thought, maybe he stopped to talk to someone. John was a friendly person, it would make sense… but the blip was in an area that was all housing, and in a rough neighborhood at that, so, John had to be at someone's house… Taking in to account that the teacher had called him, Sherlock would give the dot ten minutes to start moving. He trusted John. Sherlock sat back. Thinking a moment.

…He didn't trust this teacher, though.

Not a minute later, Sherlock had his coat and was out the door.

Sebastian and John had been leisurely walking, talking about upcoming assignments and gossiping about teachers and students alike.

Sebastian checked his watch. "What time is he expecting you back?"

"I'm usually home before this… but I don't think he'll notice. I went on a weekend field trip once, mind you, I was gone for nearly three full days, and when I got back he looked shocked. The bastard didn't even realize I'd left."

Sebastian laughed. "No. Way."

"Way. Then he goes 'well, it's not my fault you don't listen.' and was actually upset that he had to catch me up to speed!" John groaned. He was glad he had Sebastian. John didn't know why… but it seemed like Sebastian knew exactly where he was coming from. He didn't talk about his work, but what little he did say lead John to believe his Boss had some of the same mannerisms as Sherlock… in a different way. John made a face… not even in his mind did that make sense. He felt comfortable around Sebastian. Like he didn't have to be afraid or worry is he sounded annoying. He still did, but it was easier to ignore.

"Alright. I've heard rumors."

"Oh, here we go."

"I've heard a lot… the most, let's say… interesting one is that your flatmate keeps dismembered bodies. Any truth?"

"He usually doesn't keep the whole body… just parts. He gets them from Mrs. Hooper. She's really nice… and she has the biggest crush on him."

"You jealous?"

"Not really… I almost pity her… He doesn't even acknowledge her half the time… She does anything and everything for him… it sounds familiar, I'll say that much…" John said miserably.

"I hear that." Sebastian muttered. "But I know he appreciates you, even if it doesn't seem like it. He's always there to protect you, right?"

"I… I don't think that's the same thing… But yeah, he does. Most of the time…" John shuttered. One of the times he had been kidnapped and had to bust himself out. Sherlock 'knew where he was' and was 'ready to move in if John couldn't handle it' but John had a sneaking suspicion Sherlock was just stumped. Sherlock hadn't let John leave his sight for a week after that, only cementing his thoughts.

"If he doesn't know what he's got… maybe show him? Sounds terrible, a teacher suggesting to stage a kidnapping or runaway… but I'm not actually a teacher, so, I have no reservations on planning a kidnapping."

Though it sounded almost like a threat, John couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't see Sebastian hurting a fly, and yet, at the same time, he could see him torturing because he wanted to. Such an odd contradiction.

"I think he'd actually kill me if I even thought about it. Though, he has his reasons."

"I'm just saying, if you ever want to really know, I know a guy. He'll help you out and he's very fair about what he wants in return. I could even cash in a favor he owes me, if you want."

"I-I… um, I think that would not end well… it would either confirm my fears or make him hate me…"

"Well, you obviously wouldn't know about it. All you have to say is a verbal yes or no… I can make it happen."

"I'll… I'll keep it in mind." John was uncomfortable. He didn't want Sherlock to ever worry about him… At the same time, he didn't want to know that Sherlock didn't really care about him… John knew his heart couldn't take it. But, he had to, right? Why would he keep John around if he didn't care?

"You seem uneasy, did I upset you?"

"N-no! Nothing like that… my thoughts are just mutinous sometimes…"

"I understand. Wanna get coffee?"

"O-oh, no, that's alright, b-but thank you."

"How about some tea? I know how you adore it."

John thought, he did adore it… but he didn't want to burden Sebastian any more than he had. And Sherlock may be worrying about him by now.

"Oh, come now, John. I saw that hesitation. You want to say yes and you know it. Come on. I know a place. Think of it as a way of thanking you for your company last night and today."

"Thanking me? No way! I should be thanking you! I haven't had that much attention in… since…" John thought hard. Had it really been so long ago? "W-well, I can't remember… can I buy you coffee instead…?"

"We'll see." Meaning 'no' John guessed.

And Sebastian walked on, making sure John was following him and that he didn't get lost. It got increasingly difficult as the crowd thickened, so Sebastian grabbed John's hand, half guiding half dragging him along.

John thought nothing of it, grateful for the assistance. He was a small kid, Sebastian was big and imposing… while using him as a shield, John laughed when the phrase 'Guardian Angel' popped into his head to describe Sebastian.

Sebastian looked behind and down at John while still walking. "What's so funny?"

"N-nothing. Just thinking."

"Sure you are. I'm privy to your tricks. I bet you've fallen madly in love with me after just one day." Sebastian sighed dramatically.

"It's been a bit longer than one day, Sir." Though John said it mockingly, he panicked as he remembered Sebastian's earlier threat, hoping the older man didn't remember.

To John's horror, he'd remembered. "Well. That's it. Now I have to spoil you. You brought this on yourself, kid."

"Wait, no! I-I didn't mean it! I meant to call you a bastard! Or something similar! Please don't, Sebby!" Sebastian laughed so loud people started to look.

"I have only ever known one person to call me that and it's only when he orders me around. You can't get out of this one, John. Sorry. Now you know next time to take my threats more seriously."

"B-but, Sebastian-" John whined, getting cut off.

"I made it clear yesterday if you said that to me again, I would have to. I'm a man of my word. Sorry, kid."

"That's not fair!"

"Sure it is. Even if it wasn't, that's life. I'm buying you tea. You don't get a say."

"But-"

Suddenly, John and Sebastian were separated. Sherlock, seething in anger, standing between them, John behind him.

"Let's go, John."

"...Sherlock? Wh-what's going on…?" Sherlock had grabbed John's arm and was now pulling him in the direction of Baker Street, his grip unrelenting, even as John tried to pull away.

"Home. You and I are going to have a nice chat about your recent whereabouts."

John knew this was coming, but that didn't make it any less nerve wracking. Sherlock's grip on his arm was painful, but even still, he didn't loosen it.

"Sh-Sherlock, you're hurting me-" John tried to pull away again, but Sherlock pulled back, making John stumble forward.

Suddenly John wasn't in Sherlock's grasp. He was behind Sebastian, who was in Sherlock's personal space, aiming to intimidate. Sherlock was shorter by about an inch… but Sebastian used the small height difference like feet.

"Excuse you." Sherlock growled, leaning around him to get to John.

"No, excuse you. What are you doing? The boy said you were hurting him."

"I'm just trying to get him away from a creep he seems to have befriended." Sherlock had successfully gotten himself between John and Sebastian and was now shielding John.

"U-um, Sherl-" John peeked around Sebastian.

"Be quiet, John." Sherlock barked, not looking at John.

"Creep? I think you're mistaken."

"I heard your conversation. You were holding hands. John's hair is messed up and you both have the faint smell of sweat on you. He also looks like he's recently been beat up. His nose has been recently broken and he's holding his shoulder awkwardly. I am not mistaken." Sherlock snarled.

"O-oh, I, we- it's not-"

"Not another word from you."

"I know you're supposed to be a genius, but you really aren't very smart."

"I know what I see."

"Sh-Sherl-" John tried to speak to help Sebastian, but Sherlock turned slightly, fixing a glare on him, shutting John up instantly.

"You clearly don't. Our conversation was out of context. You don't know what we were saying before. I was 'holding' his hand to make sure he didn't get lost. I assume we smell like sweat because John and I tried to beat the crap out of each other with pillows, also giving a reason as to why his hair is a mess. As to his injuries, maybe you should ask him yourself." Sebastian was calm, but there was an edge to his voice, betraying the anger he felt.

Sherlock didn't know what to say, but he didn't want to be wrong, at the same time he hoped that he was, so he turned to John. "Where did you get those injuries? And why didn't you tell me where you actually were last night?"

"I-I d-" John couldn't explain himself without stuttering, he turned to Sebastian for help.

"He did. I'm a friend. From school. I happen to teach English and helped him on an assignment. He was completely truthful."

Sherlock glared. "Telling a lie and not telling the full truth are essentially the same thing. You know that, John."

"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Sh-Sherlock. I-"

"Enough. You can make excuses later. We're going home." He stepped closer to John again. It was scary how mad Sherlock was. John cowered away from him, tearing up a small bit. He knew Sherlock wouldn't hurt him… but in the moment, he wasn't so sure… Sherlock kept getting closer, when he raised his hand, John flinched, covering his face with his arms.

"If you don't stop right there, I will kill you." Sebastian grabbed Sherlock's collar, stopping him from advancing.

John had made himself as small as possible. He was crying now. John remembered what crying did, though, he tried to stop, but he couldn't. He couldn't believe Sherlock would be just like his dad… he promised he wouldn't… he promised. Why was he-

"John…" Sherlock's voice was soft. He hadn't realized he was scaring John. "It's okay, John. I'm sorry I frightened you. I just worry about you." John nodded.

Sebastian was livid. He couldn't believe Sherlock. He just expected John to forgive him? How selfish. He was making excuses to get to John's empathy.

"John. Are you okay?" John just nodded again. Sebastian gently pushed. "Answer me please." John looked scared and quickly answered.

"Y-yes, s-sir."

Sebastian looked at Sherlock. "I think you should leave."

Sherlock straightened looking affronted. "You'd be better off leaving."

John had stopped crying and was only shaking a little. John spoke in a small voice. "I-I think we sh-should g-go somewhere else. People are staring…"

Sure enough, people were watching two grown men make a small child cry on the side of the road.

"Out of context…" Sebastian couldn't help but think of it as his phrase of the day.

As Sherlock turned and started walking, Sebastian looked down at John, who still looked incredibly small. "Hey, we could just go back to my house until he maybe cools down a little, if you'd like."

"N-no… he'll just get m-more upset…" John shuttered, trying to keep the tears from falling down his pink cheeks.

"Okay. I'll go with you. I'll keep things under control." John nodded sadly. Sebastian was calm, and John appreciate it immensely.

They walked side by side, keeping up with Sherlock, who had turned to make sure the other two were following.

When they arrived at Baker Street, they swiftly moved to the living area. John excused himself to the kitchen to make tea. One, to get away from the tension, and, two, to calm himself down.

In the living room, Sherlock sat in his chair, Sebastian stood. They glared at each other, saying nothing.

When John walked back in, he put a cup in front of both of them, then sat in his chair, refusing to look up from the ground. It looked as if he were willing the pillows to swallow him up.

Sherlock decided he couldn't stay quiet anymore. He got up, pacing, not realizing it was putting John on edge. Sebastian didn't know what to do. It was odd, really. He was the cool, aloof badass who killed people left and right without a second thought… but in this moment, he could do nothing to calm John, a thirteen year old, down. Sebastian sighed. What was his life coming to? Sherlock paused at the window, looking out.

Sherlock spoke. "I want the full story." When John still didn't look up, Sherlock turned. "Now, if you please." John squeezed his eyes tight, holding back a whimper.

"W-well, after I saw you yesterday I- well I d-didn't think the park sounded fun anymore… N-not after I knew y-you w-were doing something fun… s-so I- well we were out of stuff so I thought I'd pop into the store." John took a steadying breath, trying to make his voice stop trembling.

"Well, I after I ch-checked out, I was walking back… I had g-gotten too much and I wanted to get home fast… then I was p-pulled into an alleyway a-and I g-got beat up. The g-guy said to tell you to watch out…" John looked at Sebastian to help.

"At this point I stepped in and knocked the guy out. I took John to my house because he was unconscious. I popped his shoulder back into place as well as his nose. He had some blood in his hair as well. That guy almost killed him. If I'd been there any later, I hate to think what would have happened." Sebastian shook his head, clearing his gruesome thoughts. "When he said you wouldn't be here and neither would Mrs. Hudson, I insisted he stay. I didn't feel right leaving him by himself. So, he stayed, we made pizza, it failed, we went to the sandwich shop next door, then we came here so John could grab his school things, we made a pillow fort we watched a movie and we slept. Nothing more, nothing less. The most disturbing thing to happen was watching John put almost three full cups of cheese on a pizza." Sebastian left out their game and the run in with Mycroft because it would have sounded suspicious.

Sherlock turned to John.

"Why didn't you tell me you'd been attacked?"

"W-well, I-I knew you were on a case… I know y-you hate being distracted from them… I-I didn't was you to b-be mad at me… I think I messed that up, though…"

"I'm would not have been mad. I would be worried. I'm mad because you didn't say anything and trusted a practical stranger more than me. If you would have said something, I would have finished the case earlier." Sherlock had actually not finished the case. This was a very odd one. Serial killings. He stopped that door from opening, he would be lost for hours if he opened it again. He needed to focus on John right now.

"I-I didn't- I-"

"He was in no state. He couldn't be moved too much and I knew you would stress him out." Sebastian accused.

"You and I have never met before today." Sherlock growled. "You couldn't know I'd 'stress' him out."

"Yet look where we are. I listen to my gut."

"My eyes are telling me you're ex-military, going on your short hair and posture. Dishonorable discharge. Sniper, steady hands. You continued to kill after you got out. Now you do it for a living. Tell me again how I am a stresser and you're not."

Sebastian didn't look shocked like John expected. In fact, he smirked. "I may be a killer, but at least I'm willing to admit I enjoy it."

John got up. He couldn't listen anymore. He knew it was a bad idea to leave them alone, but he couldn't be there anymore.

"I-I'll b-be in my r-room." He left without a word. His door was shut quietly, but even so, it echoed through the silent flat.

"You upset him."

"I upset him? It wasn't me who upset him." Sherlock scowled as Sebastian.

"You are a prat. I don't know how he stands you."

"Is there a reason you're still plaguing our flat with your presents?"

"Actually," Sebastian lowered his voice. "I want to talk you you about John. I'm concerned about his well being."

Sherlock looked offended, but before he could say anything, Sebastian raised a hand. "No. Not because of you. I was a witness to one of his nightmares. I am genuinely worried about him. I worry that him living with you isn't safe. Not because of you, but because of the people you attract. The guy in the alley yesterday is a perfect example. The kid was doing nothing, yet he's still targeted because of his association to you."

"I am perfectly capable of keeping him safe."

"How many times has he been kidnapped."

" … I don't see how that has anything to do with-"

"How many times has he had an injury from a stakeout or citywide chase through alleyways?"

"Other people-"

"This isn't about other people. This is about John."

"I hate repeating myself. As I told you before, I am adequate in keeping my John out of harm's way."

"He's not yours."

Sherlock gaped at the fake teacher. "I'm quite sure he very much is."

"He's his own person." Sebastian's blood was boiling. "I'm going to be honest here, I don't think John should continue to live with you."

They heard a loud gasp. Sherlock looked to John standing on the stairs. Leave it to John to figure out which stairs were silent.

Both men were shocked it took them this long to realize John hadn't even gone to his room. They both silently berated themselves. Sebastian recovered first.

"Well, I suppose you know how I think now too, John. I don't think it would be a good idea for you to keep living here." He looked right at John, he knew the kid could see reason, even if Sherlock refused to.

"Well I think-"

"Frankly, I don't care what you think. If John says he doesn't want to live here anymore, you can bet your ass he won't."

"You can't do that." Sherlock put his hands on his hips. "I'll tell Lestrade you kidnapped him."

"Easy enough to believe that, isn't it, Sherlock?"

"Enough! I-I'm still here…" John took the last few steps to the ground, walking into the living room once more. "I…" John didn't know what he even wanted to say.

Sebastian looked him right in the eye. "Yes or no, John. Do you want to be here? Do you feel safe here?"

"W-well…" John tried to think of words to string together, but it was getting harder the longer he had to look Sebastian in the eye.

"Well? Go on, tell him you want to leave, tell him it's not safe, see if I care." Sherlock walked to his room and slammed the door.

"I…I'm sorry… It's m-my fault he's being like that…" John put his head down, shrinking back again.

"No it's not. Listen, now he's gone. You don't have to let him force you to say something you don't mean."

"N-no! It's not like that… I was… I was trying to say that there's nowhere I'd rather live than with him… I wouldn't last a day anywhere else… I- that is to say… it's not that it's particularly safe… but at the same time, it is… I know that doesn't make a whole lot of sense… But that kind of sums up my whole life." John chuckled a little.

"I understand. If that changes ever, let me know. My offer will stand."

"Thank you…"

"And, so you know," Sebastian walked over to John, leaning down and whispering. "He would care very much. He would be upset to know he drove you away. Don't let him think he can get away with everything."

John smiled. "I won't."

"Okay, upstairs with you. I'm going to talk with Sherlock a moment more, then I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow."

John started for the stairs. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Moran."

Sebastian flashed a grin, then turned to Sherlock's closed door. He didn't bother knocking.

"I'm leaving."

"I know."

"Take care of him."

"I do."

"Listen. I've see the nightmares that kid has."

"That's the second time you mentioned it. However you didn't mention other night time activities… did he sleep through the night?"

"What does that have to do with anything at all?" Sebastian's head hurt.

"If he did, this will mark the first full week."

Sebastian sighed. "I'll bite. Full week of what?"

"Him sleeping without incident. Before, he would walk around. Nearly broke his neck on the stairs. Multiple times. Almost jumped out the window… He's improving." Sherlock seemed pleased.

"Are you kidding me? He's a mess! The poor kid can't decide what he wants for dinner, stutters when he feels threatened, which is quite often, and has the worst nightmares! And you seem happy."

"He can't decide what he wants to eat, but he eats now. He stutters, but he talks to other people, besides me, now, and he doesn't even stutter that much. He has nightmares, but he sleeps. Yes. He has problems. You should have seen him when he first came here. Yes, I'm very happy. Ecstatic. My John is getting better."

Sebastian was stunned. It was as if he could see how much John really meant to Sherlock… He knew the detective at least liked the boy… but Sebastian could see pride and respect in Sherlock's eyes. "What happened to him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask, but he couldn't stop himself from uttering the question.

"That's none of your business." Sherlock waved him away.

"You don't know." Sebastian could see right through him. He could see that Sherlock didn't know because John wasn't ready to talk.

"I know enough."

"That's good enough for me."

"Noted." Delete.

"Keep him safe."

Sherlock scoffed. "As if I planned otherwise."

"I'm not joking."

"Nor am I."

"I'll be keeping my eyes on him too."

"I'll allow it."

"As if you could stop me." Sebastian smirked, then turned to walked a few steps before stopping. He didn't turn around, but he spoke. "You need to keep a close eye on him… things you don't understand are happening. I can't protect him from them. You have to."

"Ominous." Sherlock wasn't listening and there was no point in Sebastian staying any longer.

"I'm sure that went in one ear and out the other. Don't say I didn't warn you." Sebastian sighed sadly. He couldn't say anymore… he shouldn't have said as much as he had, but it was too late now.

Sebastian left.

When John heard the front door close, he cautiously made his way down the stairs again.

He saw Sherlock standing in the living room, violin in hand. He wasn't playing yet, but it was clear he intended to. John wanted to say something before he lost the nerve.

"I chose you…"

"I know."

John opened his mouth to say more… but no more followed. He sat on the couch as Sherlock started to play.

Around half an hour after John had fallen asleep, he started to thrash and whimper. Sherlock was shaken out of his thoughts, crashing to the present.

"John." John didn't hear him. Sherlock put the violin away and grabbed a blanket for John. John still whimpered and rolled around. Sherlock looked around, as if being watched, given who his brother was, he wouldn't be shocked, then picked John's head up. Sherlock sat down, laying John's head on his lap. Sherlock stroked John's hair until the boy calmed, his mantra of 'Shhh. I'm here, Sherlock is here. I'll protect you.' repeated over and over. Finally, John fell into a deep restful sleep, curling his arms around Sherlock and burying his face into the detective's stomach.

Sherlock pulled the file of the case he'd been working on from the side table.

He flipped through, looking at the four victims. All different ages, weights, occupations, looks, hell, there was nothing to connect them. Except the way they all had words on carved over their chests. One a week. They all died differently, but over their hearts there were words. Words that his brain read and reread… but he couldn't make anything of them. Not a single thing.

The first victim had been a known abuser. Horrible person. He was a reason John didn't need to know about this case. Victim number one was stabbed to death. The knife wasn't found and there was no signs of a man had the word 'Don't'

The second had brown hair and was a student in pre-med. She was young. She was the main reason Sherlock hadn't told John about this one. John got so sad when he saw them. The young girl was in a car crash… but in a car that was not her own. She didn't own a car and had no previous charges of theft. She was in the back seat, and there was no DNA anywhere on the car.

She had 'Trust' carved into her.

The third, a man, blonde, middle aged, frankly boring. He had supposedly jumped from a bridge. Sherlock tried not to let chills run down his spine. He looked down at John to reassure himself the boy was still there. He was.

. This boring mad had a boring word. 'The' carved into his waterlogged flesh.

The fourth was the one that puzzled him, and all of the Yard, really. A teenager. Nothing really defining about him, but his word was 'Ducks'. Sherlock didn't know why. The message had been clear… four words. What was special about the number four? So specific.

"Don't trust the ducks." Sherlock, though he wouldn't admit it, was at a loss. All he could be certain of was that there were more on the way. He wasn't sure if he was excited or not. With the victims seeming random, John was in more danger than normal. Maybe Sherlock should tell John, if only to keep him safe. Sherlock had a sinking feeling this was one Moriarty's work… John didn't need to be around that deranged maniac. Sherlock had found his web. To say it was gruesome was an understatement.

Sherlock looked down at John. He looked peaceful. Sherlock filed the picture of John looking so small and sweet into his mind palace. The wing christened 'John Watson'.

Sherlock shifted to a more comfortable position. John stirred, not opening his eyes, he whispered "Don't leave me." before falling asleep, albeit, more restless.

Sherlock smiled warmly, even though John couldn't see it. "Never." He had no intention of getting up. He hummed the melody of one of John's favorite songs. Music always seemed to help him, at least a little. John's unconscious form calmed, soothed by Sherlock.

Sherlock hugged John close, knowing no one could see, besides maybe his brother, and took a moment to document this moment as well. He was starting to drift off. His last thought of John.

"My John." He didn't know or care if he said it out loud. No one could hear him. No one but John… and he's the only one who matters.

Um, yeah, feels are coming up in the next on. So is John's backstory...
I'm apologizing now because I know everyone loves the lil' cinnamon roll...
Anyway, that's all.
Have a nice day!
xoxo

~Miss Taken