Two years later
John hadn't seen Sherlock for nearly two years. John was still going to the playground regularly, but Sherlock didn't come anymore. At first he was sad, because although he had only known him for about an hour he had liked that kid. But after a while John had forgotten about Sherlock.
At home the situation hadn't changed a lot. His father was still a drunk and so was his sister. But John had learned to take care of himself.
He had a few small jobs, nothing big. Sometimes he babysat the neighbor's young daughter or cleaned the staircase or he delivered the newspapers. He got enough money to buy food when his sister forgot to give him money. Moreover John learned to cook and he got used to sleeping on the couch though his back hurt sometimes.
His dad didn't know, but John had skipped a class and went to private school with a scholarship. He had told Harry once but John wasn't sure if she remembered because she didn't seem to be sober at that time.
But John's future wasn't that dark anymore. If he continued his studies successfully he would be able to get a scholarship for med school. Because that was John's dream, he wanted to be a doctor.
The day John had met Sherlock the second time was a cold day like the one two years ago.
Sherlock was again on the swing.
This time John didn't ignore him but went over to him. He had finished his homework anyway.
"Sherlock, long time no see."
The boy looked up.
"Oh, John." He answered. The young's boy voice was hoarse.
"Did your brother call you stupid again?" John asked mockingly.
Sherlock seemed to be confused but shook his head.
"No, he left me."
"What do you mean, he left you?"
"He just left me."
John sat down on the swing next to Sherlock. He looked at his young friend concerned. Sherlock was pale, but his cheeks were flushed red.
"What about your parents?"
"They are somewhere in Asia I think. They left me with my brother again but then he got a call and told me to take care of myself because he had some important business to attend to."
John nodded. He could understand Sherlock. He had felt abandoned so many times too.
Sherlock coughed a few times, obviously embarrassed about his vulnerability.
John stood up and put his hand on Sherlock's forehead.
"You are running a fever, Sherlock."
The younger boy nodded. "I know. But I can't call Mycroft. He will make fun of me because I can't take care about myself even for a few days."
"But you should. You are ill." John said.
"I will not."
John sighed.
"Maybe I should bring you home then. It's too cold to stay outside especially if you are ill. Do you have any money?" John asked.
"Yes?"
"Good, we can go to a grocery store and buy some chicken and vegetables on our way. I will make you a soup for your cold." John explained.
"You can cook?" Sherlock asked surprised.
"Yes, I can cook."
Sherlock led John to grocery store and then to the Holmes' house. It was nothing too fancy, but it was a nice house with a garden and comfortable furnish. But what John liked most was that everything was clean. The floor was not sticky of beer and there was not the sharp smell of whisky, puke and piss.
"There is the kitchen. Thank you for making soup, John." Sherlock told. Then he went to the living room and lied down on the couch.
John smiled a bit as he saw Sherlock curled on the couch under a thick woolen blanket. He wished he had a younger brother like Sherlock.
An hour later both were sipping soup. Sherlock nearly fell asleep while eating. Later John brought him to bed, gave him water and some cold medicine he had found in the bathroom of the Holmes.
John thought about going home but then he decided that he should better stay, because he should check Sherlock's fever from time to time. It wasn't like anyone would miss him at home anytime soon.
John spent the night sleeping on the couch and he found it much more comfortable than at his home. For the next three days John took care of Sherlock. Every day after school he cooked for the younger boy, made him take some medicine and read some books out loud for him because Sherlock claimed he couldn't read on his own because of his headache though John suspected that Sherlock just liked John to read to him. The books Sherlock wanted him to read were fare to mature for both of them but John didn't mind, it wasn't like he was a sheltered child and Sherlock didn't seem to get scared by violence, bodies or anything at all.
Then the day Mycroft, Sherlock's brother, was supposed to come home, Sherlock kind of threw John out. He told him that Sherlock didn't want Mycroft to know that Sherlock had a nurse the past few days and that John should better go home. A bit hurt John left and went home.