Last one for tonight... and maybe a while. I still haven't finished the 15th chapter yet...
I hope you guys will enjoy this one. It doesn't end on much of a cliffhanger either, so that's good.
Also, I know it's a little unrealistic for a victim to forgive an abuser so soon after... but John is young and he doesn't even really know how to possess what happened, so he's trying to figure it out...
Also, it's fiction... so I hope you won't take this as reality...
Love you guys!
(It's really late and I'm really tired.)
"Why don't you go fuck yourself, Mycroft?" The British government sighed.
"You and I both know we need to talk."
"I plead the fifth."
"You know we're in London-"
"I'm exercising my right to remain silent."
"I'm not the-"
"No, but you're the government. See you later." Sebastian tried to walk away.
"You need to-"
"Go home. Yes, I do."
"- Stop cutting me off and get in the car."
"I am very close to punching you. I'm sure that's some kind of offence. I'd rather not be a criminal tonight."
Mycroft scoffed. "You and I both know that's never going to happen. Get in. I can be very… persuasive." He pulled out a gun. Sebastian sighed. He knew The elder Holmes brother wouldn't ever shoot one. But he was tired and he could probably get the man to take him home after he was done yelling.
"I won't talk."
"I'll talk enough for the both of us."
When the door shut, Sebastian realized there was no one else in the car. Risky. Mycroft had no protection besides the gun he held that didn't even look like it had the safety off. Sebastian couldn't tell if he was confidant or stupid.
"Bold move, this." Sebastian gestured around the cab.
"You won't do anything." Mycroft went so far as to put the gun into his lap. Definitely stupid, then.
"So, what is it you want to talk at me about?"
"What happened with John Watson."
Sebastian nodded.
"What happened, will not happen again."
"No it wont."
"I want your word."
"You have it. The moment he betrays his word, I'll come straight to you. But until then, my loyalties lie with him. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get ready for school tomorrow." Really, he just needed to look at some files the Boss had sent over a while ago, entailing odd codes and a pattern of no pattern, but Holmes didn't need to know everything.
"You aren't a real teacher."
"And yet, if you ask anyone there they'll tell you the opposite."
"You're just like him."
"I don't care who, but I have a feeling that you're gonna tell me anyway."
"Sherlock."
"I was right. You just like the sound of your own voice, don't you?"
"Get out of my car, if you please."
"Didn't want to be here in the first place. Thanks for the ride. I do enjoy when it's you who tries to kidnap me."
"You and I will talk soon."
"Keep it as far from now as possible."
"Keep John safe."
"The safest he can be is if I stay very far away."
"That's not true and you know it."
Sebastian got out and didn't look back. He knew being around John was the worst thing for the kid. He wasn't going near him anytime soon, He was just another connection to the Boss.
What Sebastian didn't think about was that if he was away, the Boss would play and the Boss did so love to play rough.
When John woke up, his throat was dry and his face was damp. He was in Sherlock's room and he was hyper aware of everything. It was around half three in the morning, the pillow was soaked with sweat, drool and tears, Sherlock was moving around in the kitchen and wasn't aware that John was awake yet. John used this time to sit up and check himself over. Physically, he was very sore and a little tired, but nothing besides the burn in his backside that was a hindrance on movement. He'd been sore and tired before.
Emotionally was a different story.
He felt stupid, first and foremost he shouldn't have blindly believed that man. He knew somewhat about cases of child abduction and murder… he never thought it would be like what had happened, but John realized Sherlock had probably filtered those out of John's view.
Second, he felt guilty for lying to Sherlock. If there was one person in the whole wide world he could trust, it was Sherlock. Sherlock who had saved him from the bridge. Who saved John from himself.
Sherlock understood, or, at least accepted John. No questions, no condescending beyond what the detective did to everyone else, and even then, he treated John as an equal, explaining when John didn't understand, but not dumbing things down.
That was the third. He hated what the man did. He hated the situation. But, mostly, John hated himself.
He hated himself for being stupid, he hated that he didn't hate the man. He wanted to. He wanted to hate that bloody horrible man, but he couldn't bring himself to hate another human being.
John decided right there and then that he wouldn't let this and the memory of the man control his life. John was not going to be meek anymore. It might take some work, but John would never be a pushover again. Not for anything. Not for anyone.
After his epiphany, his body decided that was enough revelation for tonight and tried to let sleep drag him into the depths of unconsciousness.
John didn't want to sleep, but his body was exhausted. He tried to get up, but his body wouldn't listen, so he tried to go back to sleep. He was in and out of consciousness until the alarm clock read six. John finally let himself get out of bed and started to get ready.
When he walked out, Sherlock walked by, not even a hello in his direction. He looked to have a purposeful bounce in his step as he walked from one side of the flat to the other. John liked it. Sherlock was acting normal, as if nothing happened.
When he nearly bumped into John a little it seemed to break the trance.
"Ah, good you're awake. I need to tell you some things."
John nodded, moving to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of them. He popped some bread into the toaster and went to the fridge, ignoring the mold growing on Sherlock's side.
"I'm pulling you out of school."
John dropped the jar of jam, shattering it. "What?"
"John. Please don't make me repeat myself, you know how tedious I find it." Sherlock walked over and swept up some of the glass. So, John couldn't pretend everything was alright. Sherlock was going to treat him like a kid again, forever. He was even sweeping.
"I don't want to leave school!"
"I don't think you can handle it."
"I-I- That-" John was angry. Sherlock didn't think he could take it? After everything he'd been through?
"After recent events I think it would be in everyone's best interests to keep you in someone's sight at all times."
"Sebastian is at school! I'll check in with him."
"Did you forget already that he's the one who introduced to-" John didn't want to hear this right now.
"No, I didn't. But Sebastian didn't know that would happen. Don't forget, you didn't know either and I don't blame you!" John remembered his promise to himself. He had to start somewhere and this was it. He was putting his foot down on it. He nearly felt bad for it... but at the same time, it was invigorating talking back. It was almost hard to remember why he stopped talking back to his father.
Almost.
John turned and headed for the stairs, not caring about the glass he may or may not step on.
"John, don't you walk away from me."
"Go ahead and try to stop me."
John walked away with no resistance. He got ready in his room, throwing on his uniform. The he grabbed his school bag. He didn't want to go down stairs. Especially after openly challenging Sherlock to try and stop him, but he wasn't going out the window, so through the front door was his only option.
After agonizing seconds, he was down the stairs. Sherlock was sitting facing the stairs, but John didn't look at him.
"I'm leaving."
"John-"
"See you after school."
"John. Listen to me."
John paused.
"Just don't go today. Your body needs time to heal and you and I need to talk about what to do next."
"I need to go to school. I'll fall behind."
"You know I know more than those incompetent teachers."
John turned. "Yeah, you do. I don't."
"I don't want you to be out of my sight."
"I have my phone. I'll call you if I think I can't do it." With that John left.
Sherlock was alone in the sitting room.
He sighed. "No you won't. You're too stubborn."
When John got to school, he immediately regretted his decision. The walk there had been so difficult, and his body was screaming at him. But he refused to let that slow him down.
He was nearly ten minutes late, thanks to his delayed departure and slow pace, but his first class was easy and the teacher didn't care.
He checked his phone, meaning to send a message to Sherlock to say he was at school, but he had a text.
One from the contact 'Richard Brook'. John struggled not to throw his phone.
Hi cutie~
Sorry I was so rough yesterday. Why don't you come to the park and I'll make it up to you!
John didn't want to, but he just wanted the man to stop. Not being a pushover meant not letting this man trample all over his life. He wouldn't let him.
I'm in school. Lose my number and leave me the hell alone.
-JW
John knew that wouldn't be the end of it, but he'd hoped the reply would at least take a while.
Oh, you actually answered! Wonderful. I thought I was just going to have to show up and kidnap you again ;)
There was a second text immediately after.
I know you don't want to be there. Come to the park and I'll make sure Sherlock never knows you weren't at school.
John wanted to text Sherlock. He knew he should… but if he did, then Sherlock would take him out of school. John was already behind his peers in the social aspect, only dealing with Sherlock would never allow him to make friends. John couldn't stay at the flat forever. He was determined, and god help him if he wasn't going to say something back.
Sod off.
-JW
John didn't want to be at school, but he really didn't want to see the man either.
Suit yourself. When you change your mind, let me know! My offer will stand. See you soon, Johnny~!
John sighed in relief.
Crisis averted.
He was late to his first class, but not the second or third. Fourth was English class. He was supposed to have his letter to his pen pal done to give to Sebastian.
He didn't. But he could write it super quick. He didn't have much he could say, really. That made it easy. It felt like it had been ages since he last wrote a letter to his pen pal. He couldn't even remember what he had and hadn't said.
He'd have to send an excuse letter.
Dear James,
Hi! It's me. Sorry, I really don't remember what we have and haven't talked about. I've been terribly busy with school and helping Sherlock with his newest case.
I can't even think of interesting questions to ask you about yourself… I'm sorry, I'm not a very good pen pal.
I hope I have more interesting things to say in the next one!
Your friend,
-John Watson
When John was satisfied, he took it to Sebastian. Or, he tried to.
As soon as he stepped foot into the classroom, which was empty as all the kids had gone to lunch, Sebastian ordered him out.
"Get out, John."
"I-I just have m-my letter for-"
"Forget the letter. I'm not sending it."
"B-but-"
"No, John. Now, I have lots of work and you know you and I are no longer supposed to be around each other,"
"I- But I just wanted-"
"No."
"Will you at least give this last letter to him so he knows that I didn't forget about him…?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Just this one and you don't even have to give me his response, if you don't want to."
Sebastian sighed. "I guess that would be alright."
"Let me add a little to it then."
Dear James,
Hi! It's me. Sorry, I really don't remember what we have and haven't talked about. I've been terribly busy with school and helping Sherlock with his newest case.
I can't even think of interesting questions to ask you about yourself… I'm sorry, I'm not a very good pen pal.
I hope I have more interesting things to say in the next one! Scratch that.
Actually, this is the last letter I'm allowed to send you… I'm sorry. I hope you get a new pen pal who is better at conversation.
I hope you are doing well and make better life decisions!
It was nice to talk to you, however brief the time was…
Your friend,
-John Watson
John handed Sebastian the letter.
"Alright, leave."
"O-okay. Maybe we can-"
"No John. There will be no more 'us' or 'we' You and I can no longer be around each other. Now, go away. It's nothing against you, this is for your own good, I swear."
John nodded and turned to go to the bathroom, He felt a lump in his throat. One of his only friends was rejecting him. Not just that, but actually making John leave. And he'd lost his pen pal. John was heart broken. He didn't want to cry at school though. He was trying to be a man, not a wimp.
He pulled out his phone.
Which park…?
-JW
The one right next to your school, dear. I'll be there in twenty minutes. See you soon!
-Xoxo
John knew it was a bad Idea, but being on the verge of a panic attack often impairs judgment. And he just really didn't want to be at the school all alone.
Maybe taking care of the man would make him feel a little more in control. But, if he got Sherlock involved, it would just prove to the detective that John was a baby who couldn't take care of himself. John would just go and talk to the man. If he did, then Sherlock would treat him like an adult. John could handle it himself.
Plus the man said he'd make it up to John. John could use that as blackmail if things got out of hand.
Right?
When John arrived, he saw the man sitting on a park bench, a cup of something steaming in one hand, his phone, held to his ear, in the other. He wasn't wearing his normal comfortable clothes. He has instead wearing an impeccable suit.
When he spotted John getting closer he smiled and waved him over.
"Just one second, Johnny. Work." Then into the phone, "I don't care that he wants out. He should have thought about that when we told him. His own fault for poor decision making. Take care of it. I've got company." He paused. John couldn't hear the other voice, but it sounded like bad news from the man's face. "Well, in that case. You know what to do with him. Yes. Alright. See that it does." And then he hung up, the dark look leaving his face in an instant.
"Johnny! I'll be honest, I didn't think you'd show up. Especially alone! What a pleasant surprise."
"I just wanted to come and tell you I want you to leave me alone. I don't want to ever hear from you again." John didn't want to sound rude, but he couldn't help it. He was ready for the man to snap, get angry, hell, hit him… but the response was not what he was expecting.
"Aw, Johnny, you say the nicest things!"
"B-but that-"
"I know you don't really mean it."
"I do! I don't want to see you again. Ever."
"Yet you showed up. Without dear Sherlock."
"W-well…"
"You and I need to talk about things , by the way."
John got scared. He couldn't let the man send the video to Sherlock. Sherlock seemed uncomfortable enough just knowing what happened. He wouldn't want to see it… unless he would want to… but that was a scary thought and John refused to think it again.
"It's so cute watching your thoughts flicker across your face."
"I d-didn't tell anyone!"
"Oh, I know you didn't. Sherlock knows, but I know you didn't tell him. You don't have to worry about the video. In fact, once you trust me more, I'll delete the video in its entirety."
"I don't want to do anything we did yesterday ever again."
"Not even with Sherlock?"
John didn't answer. He didn't know. Would he want to?
"It's okay. I'll take care of you and protect you from the world."
"W-well, who's going to protect me from you?"
"Oh, Johnny, you're such a smart little pet!"
"I-I'm not a pet!"
"Do you like ice cream?"
"I- … I guess so? I can't remember having it… That's a random question."
"It's not random. I'm going to buy you ice cream. I may as well ask if you like it first."
"Why would you buy me ice cream?"
"Because you're sweet and deserve sweet things. "
"Don't call me sweet."
"Bad move, telling me not to do something. Now I'll never stop."
"Why do I have the terrible feeling you're not talking about calling me sweet…?"
"Because you're not absolutely stupid. Anyway, I also said I'd make it up to you. So, unless you think of something else on the way, ice cream is my apology."
"I-I should really go back to school…"
"That's no fun. You don't even want to."
"Well… No… but if Sherlock finds out, he won't only take me out of school for the rest of my life, he'll also never let me leave his sight. I don't know about you, but for me, being around a very fickle sociopath around the clock is not easy."
"I'll take care of it and make sure no one knows about it as long as you keep me company for a little while, deal?"
"I… I-"
"Come on. Your getting out of school and you get ice cream. What's not to like?"
"I'm… a little uneasy around my company…?"
The man just chuckled.
"Smart, pet. Very good."
John pouted.
"I… I don't even know your real name…"
"Jim. Hi."
"Uh… hi?"
"Now that we're best friends, let's go get that ice cream."
"I- I don't think we're best-"
"Name three other people who have bought you ice cream and gotten you out of school to hang out."
"Uh… I-"
"Exactly, you can't even name one. I'm as close to a best friend as you've got."
"Sherlo-"
"Have you ever just hung out with Sherlock? Just went and got tea or lunch because he suggested it, not you? For a reason other than it helped him along on a case, I mean. Has he ever seen the beautiful faces you make when you're on your back just begging -"
"Stop." John didn't want Jim to say such things. John had only just promised to not let it affect him.
"Oh, did I touch a nerve?"
"I don't like what happened yesterday. At all. Frankly I'm still not sure what even happened… I do know that I'm not happy with you."
"I told you, that's what friends do."
"Then we aren't friends."
"Aw, poor Johnny can't admit he liked it."
"I didn't… It hurt. And it was scary. Not a single part of me like that."
"Your body did."
"No, it didn't. I still can't walk without limping a little. That's not enjoyment." Jim seemed to think this over, going so far as to turn his head from John.
"Can we still be friends?"
"I… No, I don't think so, I'm sorry…"
"What if I delete the pictures?"
"I wish you would just do that anyway…"
"What if I also promise not to do anything like that again? Unless you want to, of course."
"I- you… you would be okay with that?"
"I guess so." He sighed overdramatically, throwing his hand over his face, spreading his fingers and peeking through.
John fought a smile. "Okay… Okay. I'll give you another chance. But you have to tell me the truth if I ask for it! No bullshit answers or blatant lies…"
"I wish I could kiss you. You have such a kissable face, Johnny." John started to step back, already being uncomfortable. "But I'm not one to break my promises, especially not right after I've made them."
John let his shoulders relax a little.
"Let's go get that ice cream." Jim started to walk, John followed next to him.
"Sweet."
"Yes you are."
"Nuh, uh,"
"Yeah, huh."
John stuck his tongue out at Jim. "Why are you wearing such fancy clothes to the park?"
"This is what I wear everyday."
"That's so lame."
"It's called fashion, look it up."
"And now you're at a ten on the lame scale."
"How are kids these days still using the word 'lame'?"
"You're only a few years older than me."
"I keep forgetting. Maybe it's just because you're so small."
"I'm not even that small!"
"Yeah you are."
"Nuh, uh!"
"Yeah, huh!"
John giggled. They walked into what John assumed was an ice cream shop. Jim ordered something called a banana split and they took it to the table.
Jim motioned for John to take a bite.
"This is the greatest thing ever. Oh my gosh."
"Just think, your classmates are all dying of boredom in their classes and you're here eating sugary junk food."
"Sucks to be them." John took another bite. Jim pulled out his phone. John didn't understand… was he being ignored? It was okay… but if John was going to give Jim a second chance, John really didn't want to be ignored.
"Take a nice big bite. It's even better." Jim didn't look up from the phone, but John did what was suggested.
The pain was instant. So was the sound of the shutter of Jim's phone camera.
John suddenly felt like his brain was frozen and tears sprung to his eyes. He dropped the spoon
"Brain freeze!" Jim yelled, laughing, snapping another picture or two as John held his temples, willing the headache to go away.
"You sodding bastard, you knew that was going to happen!"
"And you're reaction was greater than I could have imagined, and I have a pretty good imagination."
"Delete those pictures!"
"No way. Look how funny they are." John had to admit, they were pretty hilarious faces. That didn't stop him from trying to grab the phone from Jim's hand. He missed, but succeeded in getting some ice cream on Jim's nose. John pulled out his own phone snapping pictures of the weird faces Jim made when he tried to lick it of, failing spectacularly.
John wondered if this is what putting his foot down resulted in. Friendship.
This was what thought of when he heard the word 'friendship'. Laughing, playfully teasing, snarking around and, generally, just having fun.
The ice cream was just a bonus.
When John got home, he was immediately bombarded with the smell of formaldehyde.
"Sherlock?"
"Kitchen."
John walked in. Sherlock was wearing his goggles, meaning it was probably a good idea to stay out.
"What are you doing?"
"For the case, John."
"Well, I knew that… what are you doing?"
Sherlock snapped his head up.
"You're distracting me."
"I… I'll be upstairs then…"
It smelled like chemicals in his room too. John hated it, but his heart was light as a feather. He didn't have things to worry about. Jim was his friend and promised not to do anything… weird again, and John was still in school.
John wondered if he should tell Sherlock the man was his friend now… but the interaction in the kitchen told him no. To wait until the case was over. It was a long one. Sherlock had enjoyed it at first, but it was frustrating him so much John could see he was close to just lighting the whole of London on fire.
John heard the front door open and Greg walk in. Well, it sounded like Greg's footfalls, but John couldn't really be sure until their guest started talking.
The muffled conversation drifted up to him and John could imagine how everything must be going down. Facial expressions and all.
"There's been another." Sherlock wouldn't have looked up from what he was doing.
"And you haven't been answering your calls."
"Busy."
"Bloody hell Sherlock, aren't you supposed to be helping? This is the sixth body in six weeks. I'll pull you from the case and all future cases if you don't get it together."
"You wouldn't do that, you need me."
"No. You need me. I need to keep the general public from getting murdered."
"Dull."
"Listen are you coming to see the body or not?"
"What was the word?"
"I think it was 'Aren't', but I haven't seen it myself."
"You're no help. Leave me alone. I need to concentrate."
"I can't believe you unbelievable-"
"Watch your language, young ears are listening."
John jumped back from his cracked open door, not sure how Sherlock knew.
"Hi, John!" Greg called up.
"Hello." John called down.
Greg's voice went quieter and John strained to hear him.
"Get it together, or you're off this one."
Sherlock probably still hadn't looked up.
John heard the front door close again.
"John, come down stairs."
John made his way down slowly.
"Yeah?"
"How was school?"
Sherlock didn't look up, but John could tell he had all of the detective's attention.
"I… I think I made a friend."
"I don't know if I like that."
"But- I thought it was good for me to make friends…"
"I don't think you can call them a friend after only just meeting them. So what did you two do?"
"He bought ice cream for me after school." John didn't mean to lie, but it just kind of slipped.
"You like ice cream?" Sherlock looked up.
"I liked the kind we got… I don't know how I feel about other ice creams…"
"I never knew."
"You… never asked."
"No, I suppose I didn't." He looked back at his work.
"I need a brake. Want to go get something to eat?"
John was stunned. Hadn't he and Jim just talked about this?
"I- I'd love to!"
Sherlock cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing on John's eagerness, simply going to get his coat.
"I need to stop by the morgue anyway."
Oh John thought, so we're going to the morgue for a few hours while Molly tries to get a date from Sherlock… goodie.
Jim was right. Sherlock was a bit… inconsiderate… but John didn't stay around him for his manners.
When they got to the morgue, Molly was waiting for them, or, well, Sherlock. She forgot John's name pretty consistently.
"Sherlock, hi!"
"Molly."
They walked in and John knew this would take a while.
Sherlock examined the body, sure enough, the word was 'Aren't' and the cause of death was this person had been stabbed through the common carotid artery with a pen, this person fell onto it, it wasn't stabbed through with human hands… just gravity. But John didn't want to come right out and say that.
"John, do you want to try?"
"I… Not really."
"Too bad. How will you get better if you don't practice?"
"It looks like the wound was inflicted by a dull instrument. The angle makes it look like it was self inflicted, but I'd wager it was done by someone else? Um… but it looks like there wasn't a struggle…"
He looked up at Sherlock.
"Good. Better than usual."
"Really? Did I get anything wrong abou-"
"Mostly wrong, but you're learning."
Sherlock shot off onto a tangent that would probably take him a while to get back from. While Molly swooned, John brought out his phone.
He wished he would have brought a snack.
He had a text.
In the employee lounge, there's a box of biscuits that are community. Go have some of those. If Sherlock doesn't leave in an hour, I'll come get you and you and I can go have dinner without him.
Xoxo,
~Jim
John smiled, not really caring how Jim knew they were at the morgue let alone how there were biscuits in the lounge. John's stomach was just growling incessantly. As he walked out, he thought he heard Molly say something about a new employee starting soon, but that's all he heard before he left.
Those Biscuits were his.
An hour later, Sherlock still had yet to move from the body, watching Molly do the autopsy.
Jim sent a text telling him to tell Sherlock he was going and not to worry.
"I'm going to get dinner, I'm gonna starve otherwise."
"Yes, yes. Whatever."
Sherlock waved a hand, not looking away from the cadaver.
"I'll see you back at home I guess…"
John walked out and saw Jim standing there.
"Hello."
"How is my little pet?"
"I'm not a pet."
"Let's go get dinner, shall we?"
"I think I'll die if we don't. Let's go get my wallet first though. I don't have any money on me right now."
"Don't worry about it. My treat."
"I can't let you do that… We don't live that far."
"Johnny boy, I said it was my treat. Don't worry."
"I-"
"Unless your next word is 'accept' shut that gorgeous trap of yours."
"...Okay, fine. But next time, I get to pay."
"Oh~ There's already a next time, is there?"
"Ah, shut up, Jim."
"Yes, sir."
They ate at a restaurant close by John's flat. Some little coffee shop that had really good sandwiches. They talked about what classes John had missed earlier, what Sherlock said when John got home and how Greg burst in.
"So, what case is it?"
"I… can't tell you."
"But I'm your friend!"
"It's still ongoing… when it's done I'll tell you. How's that?"
"Ugh. You are no fun at all."
"I'm great! I'm just not one to blab secrets."
"Sherlock teach you that one?"
"Oh, stop. Just because I listen to what he says doesn't mean he tells me what to do."
"Didn't you say he's threatened to take you out of school on multiple occasions?"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"All I'm saying is that you should stand up to him more. I'm sure he'd appreciate it. Might even admire it. I'm all for you being cute and mousey, but you've got to learn when to stand your ground."
"So… don't be so much of a pushover…?"
"Exactly."
When it was time to leave, John found he really didn't want to. Jim wasn't that bad. He was really charming and one of the funniest people ever.
John knew he made the right choice to give him a second chance.
At the front door of 221 Baker Street, Jim and John shared their last goodbyes.
"We'll have to do this again." Jim said.
"What can I say. I'm a fun guy."
"That you are, Johnny. That you are." John decided here and now he'd officially forgive Jim… but he wouldn't forget what the man was capable of doing.
Jim gave a predatory stare, but John wasn't as put off by it as he had been. It was something the older man did a lot, so John got used to it."Bye, Jim."
"Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite, Johnny boy." Jim blew a kiss. Kind of creepy, but he'd promised not to touch John.
So far he hadn't. Not even an accidental brush of the hand.
Weird. John didn't really expect Jim to keep his word… but it was still only day one of their 'friendship'.
John walked up to the flat, looking for Sherlock as he changed the contact from ' Richard Brook ' to ' Jim ' so Sherlock wouldn't find them.
Sherlock wasn't home yet. John sighed.
Another day another murder. John hoped this case was at least entertaining him.
And that the detective ate something.
He was still really bad about that.
He probably hadn't even noticed John had left.
Sherlock examined the body, talking John through it. After around two hours of watching Molly do the autopsy, Sherlock began to weave the story.
About an hour into the talk, Molly tried to get his attention. John wasn't in the room, but Sherlock knew he'd probably just excused himself to the bathroom.
Meaning the detective would have to repeat himself. Dreadful.
"-And we went to dinner and-"
"Molly, I have not been listening to your very detailed description of your most recent 'date'."
"O-oh. That's alright… I was just saying he works in IT and-"
"I don't care. Where'd John go?" Molly seemed put out, but answered anyway.
"He, uh, left about an hour or so ago, I think."
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
"W-well no. He told you he was leaving, I thought you'd heard him."
"I'm going to find him."
"Do you need a lift or help? My boyfrie-"
"No. I do not require any more of your 'help'. Let me know when there is more you can tell me."
"Let me know when you find him."
"You don't care, you just want to talk about your boyfriend and try to convince yourself you like him and not me."
"You're so selfish!"
"What colour are John's eyes?"
"U-um, sorry, what?"
"His eyes. What colour are they? Surely if you paid any attention at all, you would know."
"Brown…?"
"Not even close. I'm leaving."
"You knew I didn't know! That's not fair."
"Neither is claiming to care about someone when you really don't." Sherlock got to the door, leaning back just a second to look her in the eye.
"Do keep that in mind." With a wink to her, he was gone, leaving her mouth flapping, angry and speechless.
Sherlock had no reception to text John inside the building, but the moment he was out, there were five sent directly to John's phone, hopping in the first cab he saw.
"Baker Street."
Where are u
-SH
Answer me
-SH
U better b home
-SH
John, I swear if u don't answer
-SH
I'll b home in 5
-SH
John had exactly thirty seconds to receive, respond and send a reply or Sherlock was going to call Lestrade.
John got lucky and replied in only twenty two of his allotted time.
I got hungry and went to get dinner. I'm at home. I'll put the tea on for you.
-JW
Sherlock was relieved. He'd never admit that though.
When he arrived at the flat, John was just pouring two cups. He turned when Sherlock opened the door.
"Hi, Sherlock, how was the autopsy?"
"Why did you leave?"
"I was hungry and thought I was going to die if I didn't eat. Speaking of did you eat?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did. Then I told Molly to tell you if you asked. I'll make you something. Give me a few."
"I'm on a case, John."
"This is week six of the case and I'm not letting you go days without food anymore. You'll pass out mid chase. Then what? Leave London to burn?"
Sherlock paced frantically.
"Where did you go? Mycroft didn't say anything about you even leaving."
"Why would he? Never mind, I'm sure I don't want to know. I don't know? I walked in with you, why would it be so far fetched for me to walk out without you?"
"Where did you go?" "I don't know the name of it. It was a coffee shop deal, though."
"You don't like coffee."
"But I like the smell of coffee."
"No you don't."
"Okay, no I don't, but their sandwiches were really good."
He smelled like coffee and had crumbs around his mouth… He could have made himself the sandwich, but not even the faint smell of coffee was in the flat. John wasn't lying.
John plopped a plate on the table, motioning for Sherlock to sit. He didn't.
"Sherlock, sit down before you fall down."
"That doesn't make sense, John."
"I didn't make the saying, Sherlock, I just-"
"No, not that. You hate trying new things. Why would you go, unprompted, to a coffee shop when you hate coffee?"
"Sherlock, you're overthinking this. I was hungry and it was rather close. Come eat your sandwich."
Sherlock picked the sandwich up, taking small bites as he continued to pace.
"You seem like your in a good mood." Sherlock said, spitting a crumb or two with his words.
" Ew , don't talk with your mouth full."
"Given recent events, you seem like yourself… even better. What's going on?"
"Is there something wrong with being happy?"
"So soon after what happened yesterday? I'm afraid so. You haven't even stuttered once since I've been home."
"I-uh…"
"Oh, don't start now, I'm just trying to figure out why. What happened in the span of a few hours that I've been trying to do for years ?"
"I don't know, Sherlock. They were really good sandwiches."
"Don't play dumb, John."
"I'm not playing."
"And you aren't normally this stupid. Out with it." Sherlock had finished the dinner John had made him.
"There's nothing to get out!"
"I'll…" Sherlock tried to think of an appropriate punishment. "I'll send you to your room.
"Oh, wow."
"Go to your room, young man." Young man? Where had that come from? His father used to tell him that when he'd bring animals into the house. Christ, was this what parenting was like? How awful.
If he was the kind to apologies, he'd call his mother right then and there and beg for forgiveness from all the terrible things he'd done as a boy.
"Send me to my room then. I have homework I need to do anyway. And books. And I could just go to bed. Real great punishment, dad." John was stomping over to the stairs, then up them.
Sherlock was stunned. What in the hell had prompted that ? John had never, ever , talked back. Sherlock looked into the sitting room, making sure there were no cameras to see his shock. There weren't. Meaning, it was all John.
But… over on the table, was John's walet. It hadn't moved since they'd left the first time. Meaning… John hadn't taken it and couldn't have bought himself dinner.
If Sherlock weren't still angry with John he'd march up there now and make the boy tell him the truth. Sherlock had too much pride for that, but still…
Who had John gone with?
I hope you enjoyed! And I hope that me posting these chapters now will kinda make up for me not posting since... ya know
April?
Sorry again about that...
Have a nice day!
Xoxo,
~Miss Taken