Like a Fairytale

Aiding the Enemy

"There is nothing more fun than a cage fight with the freak." He decided.
"Oh yes, it's great." Sherlock agreed.
"Hey, don't take it personally; you're just so lame it's hard not to beat you up. And to be fair you did attack first."
"I was defending myself; if I didn't throw Anderson off he would've punched me!" Sherlock defended.
"Obviously it doesn't have the same effect then." John muttered. Sherlock stopped, groaning as he picked up his bag and messaged his stomach with one hand.
"That'll leave a bruise." He decided.
"How many bruises do you get a day?" John asked.
"Depends on how much I tick you guys off by simply existing." Sherlock shrugged.
"So a lot?"
"Ya." Sherlock agreed. John smiled as if that was something to be proud of, kind of evaporating Sherlock's hopes of him actually feeling empathy for him. The walk was sort of quiet after that, Sherlock was too down in the dumps to want to start a conversation with John at the moment, so he just kicked at the bottles and papers littering the sidewalks and tried his best to avoid bumping into people.
"Mary wants you to come to her house, before I forget." Sherlock said, remembering what she had told him before. Half of him wanted to leave it go, maybe John wouldn't find out and she'd get furious and break up.
"What's the occasion this time?" John asked, sounding almost bored.
"Seven month anniversary or something stupid." Sherlock shrugged, jealous beyond the point of realization.
"That's not a reason! I mean a year I could understand, but she's celebrated every month like it was three years or something." John groaned.
"Well you must like her if you've stuck around for seven months." Sherlock defended, not knowing why he was taking Mary's side in this, he should really add how obsessively clingy and creepy that was.

"Well yes I like her, but she seems to think we'll get married someday." John pointed out.
"Isn't that the whole point of dating?" Sherlock pointed out.
"Well, sure, but... wait, why am I even talking to you about this?" John asked, coming to his senses just as they were crossing the street to the park gates.
"I have no idea, it's not like I've had a girlfriend." Sherlock pointed out.
"Aw, poor freak. Don't worry; you're not missing out on much." John assured with a laugh. Sherlock looked around the park, it was busier than before, there were little kids on tricycles and scooters, all loaded up with helmets, knee pads, and elbow pads from their over protective parents.
"You've got to like someone though, right?" John asked. As he said it Sherlock's cheeks blushed ridiculously, yes of course he liked someone, and that very someone was asking the question.
"That's none of your business." Sherlock snapped, which seemed like a good answer.
"Which means yes." John pointed out.
"Which means you don't need to be poking around in my life."
"I could help you, you know, in return for this tutoring rubbish; I could put a good word in for you." John suggested.
"More like tell the whole school a spray paint it on a billboard I don't think so." Sherlock decided, setting his bag down on the table and sitting stiffly on the wooden board of a seat. John sat across the table, digging around in his bag for his dinner and pulling out a sandwich. From what Sherlock could see it was just plain peanut butter and jelly, so un-classy you wouldn't know he was rolling in money.
"So what now?" John asked as he took a bite, spattering jelly out the back of the bread.
"You said you wanted to go over what we did in class?" Sherlock pointed out as he got his own dinner out, this time Mrs. Hudson had packed him not a sandwich but a thermos containing the soup they were having, tomato basil, with a couple of slices of bread on the side and a bottle of iced tea.
"If I can I suppose I shouldn't fail the test, she said I needed to have improvement." John muttered, as if it were some type of curse word.
"Improvement never hurt anyone." Sherlock agreed.
"Except you." John pointed out with a little laugh.
"No, that's because I live in a world of jerks." Sherlock corrected. John didn't say anything to apologize, but he also didn't defend the claim, which was kind of a plus. John pulled out the worksheet from before from his bag, putting it on the table and eating more of his sandwich.
"So what do I do?" he asked through a mouthful of peanut butter.
"Well for starters I think a pencil might help." Sherlock suggested. John nodded, looking annoyed and maybe even slightly embarrassed, but pulled out a pencil. Sherlock went over it with him, this time providing examples so that he could avoid sitting next to him again, as lovely as it had been he didn't want to have to explain to John why he was suddenly sweating more than Anderson. John did a couple of problems on his own, and Sherlock was happy to see he got at least a little bit of it understood, or at least he was able to get through the first couple of questions. It was boring work, and in reality Sherlock wasn't all that good at explaining it, but finally John started to get the hang of it, getting more problems right than wrong at least.
"How about this?" he asked, holding up the paper with a nervous smile, as if he didn't want to know if it were right or wrong. But Sherlock smiled proudly, doing the math quickly in his head to see that John was, in fact, correct.
"Brilliant John." he decided with a smile. John smiled back, obviously proud that he was able to do something right for once in his life. Sherlock was now scraping the remainder of his soup out of the thermos and the only thing left of his bread was the crust, which he only threw to the birds. John's dinner was only half way through though, he had been too busy doing work to actually eat, which Sherlock was kind of happy to see. At least John started to care about his grades.
"So, that looks right, tomorrow same time same place?" John asked.
"I guess so, as long as I don't end up getting tackled again." Sherlock agreed.
"You kind of asked for it." John shrugged, packing up his pencils and papers and stuffing the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth.
"So I'm to go to Mary's then, you're sure, or are you just setting me up for embarrassment?" he clarified once his sandwich was gone.
"I'm sure, she talked to me in the hallway." Sherlock pointed out.
"Now don't get any ideas freak, she's mine." John defended with a laugh.
"She's not yours; she's whoever she wants to be." Sherlock said with a confused look. He could even imagine John calling him his, like walking up to bullies and telling them not to touch his Sherlock. It made Sherlock's lungs seem to shrink a couple of sizes.
"It's an expression." John shrugged, getting to his feet and scaring a little bird that had been pecking at the abandoned bread crust Sherlock had littered on the ground.
"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, but what about Saturday?" John asked.
"You actually want to meet on Saturday?" Sherlock asked with surprise.
"Well, no, what do you think?" John asked.
"We'll take Sunday off and do a sort of quiz on Saturday, I'll type it up tonight, out of everything you've learned, and I'll show it to Mrs. Pines to prove you've learned something." Sherlock suggested.
"Oh brilliant, and what if I fail it?" John asked.
"Well, then I won't show her I guess. We don't want more work do we?"
"Oh yes, because I know how much you suffer." John muttered. Sherlock pressed the button on the light pole, waiting for the traffic to die down and bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. Of course he loved these study sessions, not only did he get to be with John alone but he also got smiles now and then, and that was rewarding enough. They crossed the street in a hurry, Sherlock seeing a family with large bags strung over their shoulders, knowing they must be tourists. If they saw the two of them together and got the picture in a magazine what would his parents say? So Sherlock kept his head down, pretending to be interested in the shop on the other side of the street.
"Should I buy her flowers or something?" John asked as they approached a sweet smelling flower cart.
"Girls go for that thing I guess." Sherlock shrugged, hating to be giving advice. No they don't, they like footballs and motor oil and video games, get her that. John stopped, buying a bundle of roses and handing the man the money, who was trying to persuade him to buy a big box of heart shaped chocolates. John politely reclined, walking away from the man before he could recommend a big teddy bear and smelling the red roses.
"Do you think she'll like them?" John asked nervously, smelling the flowers but only coughing, as if he were allergic to their sweet scent.
"Of course she will, what girl doesn't?" Sherlock agreed. Since he was going to Mary's house they walked farther down the street together, John fumbling with the flowers awkwardly and looking around, as if ashamed to be holding them. Sherlock couldn't help but wish the flowers were for him, that John would hand them to him and sweep him up in his arms, though maybe not in a public street.
"This is my stop, I'll tell you how it goes I guess." John shrugged, turning off the sidewalk.
"Oh ya, we can be pen pals." Sherlock groaned, but there was still a slight smile on both of their faces.
"See you tomorrow freak." John decided.
"See you." Sherlock agreed, walking down the street and hearing John ring the doorbell. There was an excited squeal and he looked back to see Mary, who was wearing a very nice dress, attack John with a hug and kiss on the cheek, pulling him into the house with the biggest smile on her face. Sherlock felt an odd urge to kick over a trash can, it should be him with John, not some girl he'll dump in another month. He walked back home in a very bad mood, of course John had no feelings for him, John was as straight as ruler, and not one of those bendy plastic ones Greg hit Sherlock in the head with.
"I'm home!" he announced as he tromped through the front door, ignoring any 'how was your day honey' and walking right up to his room. Redbeard, who had been previously sitting on the living room carpet, was now following him up the steps, looking sleepy, as if he had just woke up from a nap. When Sherlock shut the door he groaned, falling into his bed and scowling at the ceiling.
"Guess what Redbeard, it's John and Mary's seven month anniversary." Sherlock said in a sassy annoyed tone. Redbeard just lay on the floor, as if not daring to come up on the bed in case he would be punched. "That's so stupid, who cares, wow, that's more than half a year, you're destined to get married." Sherlock grumbled. Then again, if he were lucky enough to have John Watson as his boyfriend he'd be celebrating every other minute. What if they did get married, Sherlock only had a year left if he actually wanted to make a move, but what would he even do? Of course they probably won't break up in high school, not after this long, unless there was a good reason to. But this ferocious monster living inside his heart, screaming and fighting for John Watson, what if he never tamed it? The thought never occurred to Sherlock that it was his senior year, and then he'd be off to college, and there was no way he'd be in the same college as that air head. Was there any possible person out there that would ever outmatch John or would Sherlock die alone, still wishing he had made some sort of move to tell John about how he felt. Maybe the day of graduation, if nothing had happened, Sherlock would jokingly admit it, if it wasn't leading him up to his own suicide. It seemed like a lifelong stupid dream, but time was running out, school didn't last forever, as he had previously thought.