Remember Me (Teenlock)

Chapter Two

John's POV

I left Sherlock's room in a hurry to eat. Now that I had thought of it I realised I was really hungry, I hadn't eaten since the day before. I went around some areas of the school in search of the dining hall, but couldn't seem to find it anywhere. I scurried back to my dorm hall to see some stragglers who were late to dinner and started walking behind them. As I began trying to memorise my way around so I wouldn't have this same problem tomorrow, I accidentally bumped into one of the kids I was trailing behind. It was a girl with puffy afro hair and a look on her face making me guess that I was in for it, and I was in for it bad. She spun around so fast that any ballerina who had seen it would have been jealous. That's when the yelling began.

"What was that for, Punk? Was I doing anything to you? Don't think we didn't notice you following us because you're too stupid to find places yourself, Newbie. I think I might as well-" She was stopped short by a slightly taller boy. I could only see his back at first as he whispered something to her, but when he turned around I recognised him to be Jim. "Sorry about that," he said. "It's completely understandable that you're lost, after all, it is your first day here. Follow us and we'll show you the way."

Afro-girl looked upset with me for a moment, but then she sighed and said, "Sorry. I just get defensive, as you can probably tell. I'm Sally." She extended her right hand and I took it in my own.

"It's fine," I told her. "I'm John by the way. John Watson. Excuse me for bumping into you."

Sally just shook her head as if it wasn't at all my fault and began leading the way to the dining hall with Jim. When we got there, I was introduced to a load of their friends, but only two of them they seemed to be close to. Phillip Anderson and Sebastian Moran. Jim, Sally, and Phillip all seemed to mostly be called by their surname, and they all responded like it was their first, only Sebastian was really called by his first name. They all seemed like pretty cool people until Jim (or Moriarty I suppose) said, "Hey, guess who's the Freak's new dorm mate." He smirked as all the eyes at the table turned to me. 

I glanced around and nodded so they knew that, yep, it was me all right. Everyone seemed to shift around uncomfortably as if I had lice and they didn't want to be rude and just up and leave, but they didn't want to be anywhere near me either. "What?" I asked. I didn't like all this negative attention from people who didn't even know me. I turned to look at Moriarty and his smirk had become a grin.

"I saw you go into his room," he stated. God, well now you've done it, John. Now everyone knows you talked to the Freak. Now you'll have no chance at friends, no chance of anything. You'll be Freak Number Two. Nice going, John. Nice going. 

"I know, but it was just his violin playing was really good and I wanted him to know. And then he played a song for me from one of my favourite bands. I'm sorry I-"

I was cut off by Moriarty who said, "No need to be sorry. Listen, I don't care who your friends are. If you want to be friends with the Freak or you want to be friends with us, or even if you want to be friends with both the Freak and us, I don't care. It's your choice, just he can't sit with us. Or be around us or converse with us et cetera. The main point here is that freaks and kids like us just don't mix."

I understood what he meant, and I was guessing that over time, if I kept hanging out with them, Sherlock would be out of the question. I would become one of his demons. I nodded to Moriarty, letting him know that I understood. 

"Good," he said. It took a minute, but everyone went back to how they were before they had known I went to visit Sherlock. Many of them talked to me as well, like it really was no big deal. Sherlock had said they were demons, but were they really?

~*~

As dinner began to end, I looked to Sebastian and asked, "Are we allowed to take food? Like to our dorms and things?" 

Sebastian looked at me like I was crazy, but then his face turned. "It's not encouraged, but people do it all the time. Go ahead if you want. I'll even help you hide it," he offered. I thanked him as we scrounged up some leftovers of dinner and dessert for me to take back to Sherlock. 

Sebastian had this intricate way of folding napkins around it until it was just a mess of white and then had me wrap it around my torso with even more napkins. "Now if you suck in your stomach it just looks like you have a little chub from dinner," he told me. I thanked him again and then said goodnight to everyone at the table as I headed up to my room. 

When I got there, I looked around, making sure no one could see me step into Sherlock's room this time. No one was around, so I quickly untied the food from my stomach and stuffed the wad of napkins into my pocket. I knocked softly on Sherlock's door and he opened it almost immediately.

Sherlock's POV

John stepped into my room like he was being chased by something. Quick and sudden. He gave me a plate piled with food. I was surprised, not actually thinking he would do it. But I was grateful nonetheless. It had everything I liked, as if John had known just the right things that could make my day. I took the plate from him and placed it on my desk, which was piled high with experiments and books. 

"Sorry," John said. "I didn't know what you liked, so I just took what I could get my hands on."

I shook my head. "It's fine. You chose correctly." John seemed to only half understand what I meant. "The food choices," I said. "It's everything I like."

John rose his eyebrows and nodded slightly. After a few minutes of awkward silence and staring John asked, "Aren't you going to say thank you?"

I must've looked confused, which I was. When people did nice things for me I suppose I didn't thank them. It was usually because it was just a joke or wore off quickly. "I um, I'm sorry. Thank you?"

John rolled his eyes. "When someone does something nice for you, you say thank you. It's like a small way of paying them back. And you don't say it questioningly either."

"Th-thank you. John. Sorry," I replied. 

"No, you don't, you don't say sorry."

"I thought when you do something wrong you say sorry?"

"Yeah, you do, but you didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't say thank you when I should've."

John let out a long sigh. "You really know nothing about humanity, do you?"

"I am known to be a freak. I'm technically not human," I said. 

John smiled and just responded, "Well, let me teach you how to be."