Day #9: Plant Boy
Mint and Tea
(Rated K)
"You'll never have real friends because you're a freak!" Doug Anderson screeched at the prone body of a twelve year old Sherlock Holmes who was busy holding his nose to stop the blood flow that was a result of a hard punch from Anderson. "Maybe you should grow your own friend!"
Though the idea was suggested as a joke, judging by the howling laughter of Anderson's friends, it gave Sherlock a marvellous idea. A plant would make a good friend because it would never ask stupid questions, or punch him for deducing it, and it would always listen to his brilliant ideas.
As soon as Anderson and his idiot friends left, Sherlock jumped up, making his way to a Tesco's. After looking through all the seeds, Sherlock purchased a camellia sinensis, a tea plant. Sherlock clutched the package close to his chest before also picking up a package of mint seeds as well. Grabbing a pot for his plant, he quickly buys his items and heads for home, planting the seeds, intermingling the mint and tea.
It does not take long for the plant to grow, ribbed mint mixed with smoother tea, and Sherlock loved every bit of it. The plant, which he decided to name John, was perfect in every way. He had always considered getting a skull to talk to, but this plant was so much better.
Everything had been going so well until he mentioned the existence of John to Anderson. Anderson had, of course, been surprised that he had made a friend, right up until Sherlock had mentioned that John was, in fact, a plant.
"Oh my god." Anderson wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "You're such a freak. Plant's aren't friends."
Sherlock had taken it harder than he expected. Usually taunts from Anderson were given a quick dismissal; his lack of intelligence making anything he said automatically incorrect. Taunts about John, however, had never occurred before, which was why he found himself twenty minutes later, clinging to John's pot, his salty tears falling into the soil below.
"Why can't you be real?" He cried, the leaves brushing against his face. "Why can't you be human?"
The next morning, John looked as unchanged as ever. Sherlock got dressed quickly, not even bothering to say goodbye like he normally did. School was a terrible bore, and his peers were no less stupid than usual. Sherlock had made his way to his room rather quickly, collapsing on the bed dramatically.
"You didn't say goodbye to me." A voice said, causing Sherlock to jump. He looked around, surprised to see a boy where he normally placed John. "Are you mad at me?"
"Who are you?" Sherlock asked, frowning at the figure. He looked up from his seated position, and Sherlock could see even in the darkness that the boy looked upset.
"I'm John." He insisted.
"Impossible. John is a plant." Sherlock said, flicking on the lights, jumping at the sight of the boy. He was entirely green, but he didn't look as if he were made of leaves. More like the stalks of plants, actually, thick and smooth looking. His clothing, however, entirely consisted of leaves, mint and tea mingled together to perfectly form a pair of trousers and a shirt. Ivy wove up and down his arms and legs, attaching him to the pot that Sherlock had purchased.
"John." Sherlock said, stumbling over to the green boy who promptly smiled back at him, teeth a bright white amongst the green.
"Oh good. You're not mad." John sounded relieved, shifting from his curled up seated position to a more comfortable criss-crossed position.
"How are you alive?" Sherlock asked.
"I was alive before." John reminded Sherlock gently, bumping his knee against the others. "I can just speak now, which is really good, because I always wanted to talk back to you."
"That's what I meant." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You were just a plant before. Now you're a person. A person that's my age."
"You wanted me to be alive." John replied simply. "So I am alive."
Sherlock sucked in a breath before lunging at John, wrapping his thin arms around the green boy. He was surprisingly warm and soft, and when Sherlock buried his face into John's neck, he smelled like mint and tea.
"Don't worry, Sherlock." John soothed, rubbing a hand across Sherlock's back. "I'll never go anywhere ever again. You're my best friend, after all."