A/N: Hope everyone's still enjoying! Thanks for the kind reviews, and please continue to review. I love getting them!

Sherlock finds his backpack and signed progress report by the front door the next morning. Clement is still asleep, so Sherlock walks to school with Declan while glaring at the stupid progress report the entire time.

"You know, I made these flash cards for Duke," Declan says. "For anatomy. I can ask him to lend them to you if you want."

"Flash cards?"

"Yeah, like…they have facts and stuff on them and it's like a game. They help you study."

"Hmm," Sherlock sounds, then doesn't say anything more.

Sherlock meets Olive as soon as he gets there. He doesn't point out that Lane is missing, even though he would like to ask Lane if he saw anyone let the crickets go in the library.

"Are you free this afternoon?" he asks after exchanging greetings.

"I…"

He can tell she's about to say she has plans with Lane, so he makes a purposefully sad face.

"I…can reschedule. What do you need?"

"I have to go to the pet store."

"Okay. I can go. What about John?"

"He can go, too. He always talks to people for me."

"Then why do I need to go?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Always good to have a second opinion."

She rolls her eyes. "Where is John?"

Sherlock looks around, searching for John's face in the busy hallway. "I don't know."

Right then, Sherlock's phone begins to vibrate roughly in his pocket. He fishes his phone out and sees that it's John calling.

"Oh," Sherlock mutters. "Speak of the devil."

He answers happily.

"Hey baby," John says, sounding down.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asks.

"I'm sick," John answers.

"Sick…" Sherlock notices that his nose isn't plugged, his voice isn't raspy with a cough, so he knows exactly what's wrong with John. "How many times have you thrown up?"

"Uhm…I woke up around two and threw up then. Then three, then five, then about ten minutes ago."

Sherlock frowns. "Something you ate? What did you have for dinner?"

John groans. "It's probably that. I don't even want to think about it."

"Alright," Sherlock says. "Drink a lot of fluids, ok?"

"I know, Sherlock," John tells him. "I know how to treat food poisoning. I've been treating your sensitive stomach for years."

"I know, but—"

"I'm fine, babe."

"Where's your mum?"

"She's gone to work."

"Call my dad."

"No, it's—"

"Call him or I will."

John sighs. "Fine."

The warning bell rings and Sherlock begins to walk down the hall. "I've got to go, John. I'll text you."

"I'm going back to sleep, ok? I'll text you later."

"Call my dad!"

"I will!"

"Feel better."

"I already do. Bye, love."

"Bye, John."

Sherlock steps into the classroom right as the bell rings, and his teacher just glares at him as he takes his seat.

Sherlock feels completely lost without John. Only recently has John actually begun to sit with him in their classes, so he should be used to sitting alone still. But even if John is sitting elsewhere, there's still the reminder that John is in the room, and Sherlock feels physically ill that he's not there.

"You look like shit," Olive says, sitting down next to him before third period.

Declan sits to his other side. "What the matter with you?"

"John's ill," Olive answers.

Sherlock folds his arms on his desk and rests his head on his arms, mindful of his jaw.

The class starts and Sherlock doesn't make any attempt to move or participate. Olive pushes his papers under his arms and every few minutes ruffles his hair.

Sherlock just feels awful. He feels like his heart is missing, which it is. John is his heart, entirely necessary to be alive and functioning. When he's at home and John's not there, at least he can make himself busy with an experiment or walking the dog. At school he can't do anything but sit there.

He feels like a rain cloud. He feels like a frown.

"Mister Holmes," his teacher asks the third time she circles the room while the students take a quick quiz. "Are you sick?"

Sherlock just looks up at her. He feels his eyes drooping and he knows he looks terrible.

"Either take your quiz or go to the nurse."

Sherlock doesn't say anything; he just stands and leaves the room, even leaving his backpack and coat behind.

The nurse lets him lay on a cot for the rest of the class period, but once the bell rings, he gets sent to his next class. He reluctantly leaves the office, heading back to his last class for his coat and bag, but Olive meets him in the hallway with both items.

"Thanks," Sherlock mutters.

Olive pats his shoulder. "Let up, dude. He's fine."

"You don't understand."

"Mmm, nope," she agrees. "If you feel so lost, why don't you just go home?"

"I have to turn in my progress report in anatomy."

"And you don't have anatomy until after lunch."

"Sadly."

"It'll be fine."

It's not fine. Sherlock just lays his head in his arms for his next two morning classes, and by lunch he's a mess. He sits with Olive, Lane, Harvey, Lily, Declan, and Ellery, and they all watch him stare blankly at the table.

"What's wrong with him?" he hears Lane ask.

"There's nothing wrong with him," Olive snaps.

Harvey unexpectedly stands and pats his shoulder. "Come on, little dude."

Sherlock confusedly stands and follows.

Harvey leads him out of the cafeteria, then all the way out to the football field. A few kids are kicking a ball around, but other than that it's completely empty.

"Here," Harvey says, handing Sherlock a cigarette.

Sherlock takes it, less eagerly than he usually would.

"I won't tell John."

"Thanks," Sherlock mutters, holding it between his lips and waiting for Harvey to dig a lighter out of his pocket.

Sherlock feels instant relief taking the first drag. Before, he felt empty, but the smoke fills him in the ways he always craves but can't achieve.

"I understand how you feel," Harvey says after they're silent for half of their cigarettes. "Lost without someone you love."

"Do you feel that way about Lily?"

Harvey shakes his head. "No. I mean, not quite. I like her, hell, I do love her. But we haven't been seeing each other long enough, I don't think. It's just…not yet."

"Who do you feel about that, then?"

"My sister," Harvey answers.

Sherlock looks at him. He would've deduced a sister by now. "I didn't know you have a sister."

Harvey nods, taking his phone out and clicking around. He finally shows Sherlock the screen, and it's a photo of Harvey and a little girl.

Sherlock can tell she's seven, she's his half sister from his mother, and she lives somewhere sunny (probably Australia, maybe California). But he doesn't say any of that. He lets Harvey tell him as much as he wants Sherlock to know, which is something he's learned he needs to do.

"She's seven," Harvey says. "Her name is Hannah."

"She's adorable," Sherlock tells him, which is what John always says about cute little kids.

"Thanks," Harvey says. "She lives in Florida with my mum."

Florida, Sherlock thinks. There's always something.

"I just saw her for Christmas. My mum came to visit her parents, but before that I hadn't seen her since the summer before last."

"That's unfortunate," is all Sherlock can think to say.

"My mum took her to Florida that summer, when Hannah was only six. When they left, it didn't really hit me for about a month. Then, on the one month anniversary of their move, I just...stopped. I felt broken, like an entire limb had been severed from me. She's my thing, you know? My person. I know you and your brother are close. I'm sure you can imagine."

Sherlock frowns, still feeling disappointed that he didn't get to go to New York last weekend.

"Anyway," Harvey says, putting out his cigarette on the dirt below their feet. "Feel any better?"

Sherlock nods. "Thank you."

Harvey pats his shoulder. "My pleasure, little dude."

Sherlock follows Harvey back into the building, back to their friends in the cafeteria.

John finally texts Sherlock while he's heading to anatomy.

From John Watson: Hey love. Called your dad, he's bringing me liquids. Love you.

Sherlock feels more relief than the cigarette had given him. He tells John he loves him too, then focuses as much as he can on anatomy. He takes meticulous notes, which he hadn't been doing before.

After the other students leave, Sherlock stays back to talk to Mrs. Scott. He hands in his signed progress report, and she gives him a packet of extra credit work.

"Sherlock," she says, "I don't care how you get the answers. Internet, books, the help from other students. I just want you to learn this, okay?"

Sherlock nods. "Okay."

"John Watson is very good at anatomy. Perhaps he can tutor you."

"I've already asked him to."

"Good," she says. "I'm glad to hear that you're serious about getting this grade up."

"I am, ma'am."

She nods. "Wonderful. Have this in by the end of next week, and I'll have it graded by the next Monday. If you get it in sooner than Friday, I'll give you more extra credit."

Sherlock nods. "Thank you."

"Good luck," she says, then Sherlock leaves.

His last class goes by quickly, which is good. He rushes out as soon as the bell rings, meeting Olive at his locker.

"Ready?"

He looks at her. "For?"

"I thought you wanted to go to the pet store."

"Oh…" he sighs.

"I can go alone," she offers. "Just give me the receipt."

He takes it out of his wallet and hands it to her. "There's one more thing. Harvey hacked the library's security camera and we found this…" He taps through his phone to the photo of the boy in the library, and he shows Olive. "I'll send this to you. Ask the shop owner if he recognizes him."

Olive nods.

"And ask Lane."

She nods again. "He says he didn't see anything, but I'll show him this photo. You said you saw the security tape from the library?"

"Yes."

Olive bites her lip in thought. "I'll ask the shop owner if he recognizes this boy, but…hang on—"

Suddenly, Olive turns around and takes off down the hall.

Sherlock follows her all the way to the library.

Olive stands against the library doors and looks to her left, then right. She points up at the ceiling to her right.

"Look. Camera."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Sherlock wonders out loud.

"Think Harvey is still here?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "I saw him leave. I can ask him to re-hack the network tomorrow."

Olive nods. "Good idea."

"Thanks," he says, thanking her for both the compliment and for giving him the idea to check the other camera.

"You're welcome," she says. "I'll call you later."

He just nods, then turns away to leave the building.

Sherlock doesn't bother staying at the school to work on his anatomy, he just rushes home as quickly as possible.

He walks through the front door and immediately smells Clement's wonderful chicken noodle soup.

"Dad, I'm home!" he calls through the house.

"In here!" Clement calls back from the kitchen.

Sherlock pauses as soon as he hangs his coat. Usually, he's greeted by Mystery at the front door, but the dog is nowhere to be seen.

"Dad?" Sherlock shouts. "Where's Mystery?"

"I don't know," Clement says. "Check your room."

Sherlock sighs, then hops up the stairs to his bedroom.

He pushes the door open and nearly screams. There's a John sized lump in his bed, only proven true because he can see John's face blissfully sleeping against his pillow.

Sherlock silently moves to the bed, petting Mystery so he doesn't jump up and wake John.

John sighs awake anyway. "Hey, baby."

Sherlock smiles. "John."

John reaches out and takes Sherlock's hand. "Missed you."

Sherlock attacks John with a hug, still standing on the ground but wrapping his arms around John's neck.

John groans and tries to push Sherlock away. "I stink, love. I'm all sweaty."

"I don't care," Sherlock says, feeling like he can breathe again.

"Why do you smell like smoke?"

"That's not important," Sherlock whispers.

John chuckles. "How was your day?"

"Terrible."

John rubs his back. "I'm sorry, baby."

Sherlock turns his head and kisses John's cheek. "It's better now."

They stay up in Sherlock's room for about half an hour, just cuddling in bed. Clement interrupts them with dinner, which they eat still sitting in bed.

"I feel much better," John says.

"Me too," Sherlock agrees.

Dawn goes over when she gets off work to check on John, but she lets John spend the night with Sherlock since he's not throwing up anymore. And Sherlock's glad, because after his long day, he really needs nothing more than to sleep with John for the night.

Olive calls while Sherlock is getting ready for bed.

"So," she says, "The employee who sold the crickets said he recognizes the boy, but the boy paid in cash so there's no way of identifying him."

"Oh," Sherlock says, rinsing his toothbrush. "Hopefully the other camera will give us something."

"Hopefully," Olive agrees.

Sherlock tucks the phone against his shoulder and gets the floss out. "How is it that none of us recognize him? It's a large school, sure, but one person in our friend circle should know him."

"Maybe he's a first year," Olive offers. "I only know, like, three first years."

"Hmm," Sherlock sighs.

"Do you know who may know him? Lex."

"Lex?"

"Remember, the girl from last week? Her brother killed her cat?"

"Ahh," Sherlock sounds, tossing the floss in the bin. "She asked me out."

"That's her. I bet she'd recognize the boy."

"Maybe."

"I'll ask her tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Not a problem."

Sherlock pours mouth wash into the little cup. "Hang on," he tells Olive, then sets his phone down to rinse his mouth for thirty seconds.

Once he spits, he picks his phone up again. "Ok, I'm back."

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Dental care."

"Are you going to bed already?"

"Yes," Sherlock answers. "John's tired, so we're-"

"John's there with you?"

"Yes."

"Oh..."

"Why?"

"It's just...you guys do that? Have sleepovers?"

"First of all, we don't call them sleepovers. And second, yes, we do."

"Your dad's alright with that?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't he be?"

"I don't know," Olive says.

"Alright..."

"One more thing before I let you go," she stops him. "Will you come to dinner at my house on Friday?"

"Uh...why?"

"To prove to my parents that I have friends."

"Why not invite Lane?"

"Are you kidding? My parents don't know I have a boyfriend. My dad would hate him more than you do."

"With reason," Sherlock says.

"He's not that bad!"

"That bad?"

Olive sighs. "Will you come over or not?"

"Fine. Under one condition."

"What?"

"Help me with my anatomy."

"Oh..." she mutters. "Sherlock, you're not really my-"

"Shut up, that's not what I meant!"

Olive laughs. "Alright, yes, of course I'll help."

"Good. Between you, Declan, and John, I'm sure I can pass this class."

"We all have faith in you."

"Thanks," he says, yawning. "I'm going to go now."

"See you tomorrow. Don't forget about Friday."

"I won't. See you."

He hangs up, then returns to his bedroom to find John sitting against the headboard fiddling with his own phone.

"Oh," Sherlock says, "I thought you'd gone to sleep."

"Nope," John replies.

Sherlock slips into his side of the bed and looks at John, noticing John's annoyed face. When John is particularly frustrated, his eyebrows knit together and his bottom lip puffs out like a pout.

"What's the matter?" Sherlock asks, resting his head on the pillow next to John's hip.

"Nothing," John says, sounding annoyed as well.

Sherlock frowns. He traces a fingertip along the skin of John's thighs. "I really, really missed you today. Had I known you were here, I would have come home on the spot."

John glances down at him, then his face turns soft once again. He visibly sighs, then turns over to put his phone away and shut the light off. He lays back down on the bed and lifts an arm to let Sherlock lay on his chest.

"I missed you too," John says. He leans up to kiss Sherlock's head.

Sherlock rubs his face against John's t-shirt. "Are you going to school tomorrow?"

"Hopefully."

"If you don't, I'm not going either."

John chuckles. "Ok, Sherlock."

Sherlock looks up at John, then kisses John lightly.

John places a hand on his cheek, then lets his tongue run over Sherlock's lip and waits for Sherlock to let him in. However, Sherlock winces and yanks away, rubbing his jaw soothingly.

John frowns. "I'm sorry, babe. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's okay," Sherlock says. "Just not yet, alright?"

John nods.

Sherlock gives him another close-mouthed kiss. "I love you," he says when he pulls away.

"I love you too."

Sherlock smiles, then lays back down on John's chest.

They fall asleep quickly after that, holding each other close the entire night.