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The train rattled loudly when it stopped at another station. But it didn't merely rattle on the stations, oh no! It rattled all the time. It was so loud, so, so loud. It reminded him too much of home. Not John-home, but the home he spent his childhood in. The home he had been spoilt in. The home that almost cost him his life, several times. The home that had not really been one.


Flash-back: 7 years old

The rain streamed down his window, drawing nice little lines all the way. Some people considered the rain as depressing, but Sherlock? Never.

Some people called Sherlock a freak as well, so that is how much of their brain capacity they used. People were always as stupid as they told him to be.

Sherlock straightened up his tie a bit. Yes he wore a tie, obviously. It was his grandma's funeral. He had always called her the" granny of doom" and she had only laughed at it. But it had been the truth. She had been able to see everything and everyone. No particle could have escaped her watchful gaze. And so, whenever Sherlock had been a bad boy, Granny knew. And she told.

She had been the one to teach Sherlock how to deduce people into their components. She had been the one to light the flame of intelligence in him. And she had always been the one to forgive Sherlock and to love him. Nobody apart from her had really ever done so, even Mycroft sometimes failed at that task.

And now she was dead. Dead. Nothing.

How can something like this happen so fast? Only days before Sherlock had been in her garden, keeping an eye on the bees and joking with his granny.

And now the garden was unused, it would most likely rot as all the beautiful flowers would. Her chair would never be so voluminously filled again. Her cheeks would never glow with life and all her liveliness had drowned.

He couldn't even think about it, his eyes did the stupid thing again.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, what the HELL are you doing? Do you think you can just sit around all day and do nothing? There's work to do!" said his father, already a little bit unnerved.

"I don't want to!" Sherlock exclaimed grumpily. He was in no mood to help out, not now.

"Sherlock Holmes, get your tiny little arse up here right now!" Oh yes, he must have been drinking.

"No, I don't want to."

"You useless little git! Get your fucking self up right now or I will punch you!"

"No you won't!"

"I will count to ten: 1, 2, 3,..."

"You won't do it anyway!" Sherlock said laughing at his father.

"I will teach you to fucking listen to me, son. If you don't –"

"Then what?" Sherlock said without a care in a world.

*womp*

A fist landed everywhere it shouldn't be and his father's weight lay heavy on Sherlock. At first he hit his nose, cracking. Then he hit his stomach, whimpering. Following he hit his balls, screaming.

Just the reactions that he had wanted. That he had needed.

But this wasn't enough ,not yet. Not now that he had the chance to finally do what he really wanted. He could live his all of his sick dreams and there was nothing and nobody that could keep him from it. Nothing.

And there was nothing that could keep him from laughing either.

When Sherlock's father finally left him, Sherlock felt cold and broken. Which he literally was.

Sherlock's father had never gone this far before, only a little bit of pain distributed over a very large distance. But never this much pain. Or such a short distance.

Would he ever be able to walk again?

How the hell was he going to attend the funeral now?


They almost fell through the door of her flat, John landing on Mary's soft and warm body. It was nice. Her hair smelled like flowers, her hair was beautiful and all in all she was the prettiest woman maybe in the whole existence of the universe. But still, something was off.

Whilst kissing her and afterwards breathing into her neck, taking in her scent, he started missing something. This hair was blonde as a Barbie's, but he longed for a bunch of black curls.

She was fragile, but John yearned for the maybe skinny but nonetheless strong frame of someone else.

This situation was not made to succeed, was it? Here he was kissing perhaps the most beautiful woman on earth and was only seconds away from getting laid and what did he do? He fantasized about someone else. And that someone being- being Sherlock Holmes?

For god's sake he should enjoy this! He should feel like the hero of the evening, but all he did do was feel guilty.

He shuffled a bit away from Mary, not sure what it was that he was doing.

And not so very sure about his sexual identity either, one can't be if fantasizing over a male. But Sherlock Holmes, really?

Other than Sherlock was hot like hell. He was witty and intelligent beyond any other creature that had ever seen the daylight. And these eyes, Jesus Christ! It was like eye-sex every time you looked into them. And maybe- fuck the maybe- he was in love with bloody Sherlock Holmes! Jesus Chist!

And he didn't even care. He didn't care what his father, his mother, his buddies or his colleagues would say. He didn't give a single damn! Oh, how beautiful this was. Such a bloody relief!

Mary watched John in his little epiphany, a little confused she was. She looked at John questioningly, who did not seem to notice anything apart from his own thought process.

"John, what is... what is it with you John? Only minutes ago you seemed so absorbed in me and –and-"

"I am sorry, but I have just noticed something. Something important."

"And that may be?" Asked Mary who had only wanted one damn good shag.

"I don't love you and I bloody may never will. " He laughed, this was so silly.

"And that is why you laugh at me? In my face?"

"Yes, sorry. I love someone else, someone better."

"Thanks very much John." She said, her lips making up a thin line.

"No, I didn't mean it-"

"John. Out!"

"I said out, didn't you understand me? Leave this god-forsaken room! RIGHT. NOW!"

John didn't need to be told twice (actually he did) and this was the fastest John ever ran out of a room.

Now he only had to find Sherlock. God, they had a lot of talking to do.

Author's notes: This fanfic is really going into a way other direction than I originally anticipated, kind of angsty. I apologize if this is not what you are here for! The next chapter/s will be a lot more care-free!

And yeah I am not totally in love with Mary because she disregards everything Johnlock, but still... As a person I think she is quite cool. If she wouldn't destroy their relationship I would most likely adore her. So much about me!

Please leave a review, it makes my day! (even if it's criticism)

And thank you to all for your kind reviews and all the awesome followers of this story, you mean the world to me!

Love as always -creamtea-with-a-madman