Reasons

Chapter 6: The Beginning

It's been three days since I gave Sherlock the ultimatum, and it's been three days since we have talked. The bastard still hasn't given me an answer. I guess when I told him to take time to think about it, we took it to heart. So now I'm stuck waiting to see if I get to date the guy I really like or if I am forced to just be friends with the guy I've already made hot, passionate love with. At least now we have classes, the weekend was unbearable. It made me realize that Sherlock is my only friend on campus and when he isn't speaking, life is exceedingly boring. Now that I have things to do, life is a little less boring but much harder. Have you ever tried to complete a college chemistry lab while your lab partner refuses to communicate with you? It's bloody hard! But I can't complain to much, at least he is doing what I asked. It must be so funny in his head, I can't imagine what it is like in his mind palace. I think that's a good thing though, he may be brilliant but he is quite messed up, his brain must be a very scary place. I just want him to give me an answer so that I can talk to him again, in any form of relationship, I just miss talking to him. I'm worried about him too, it can't be healthy to spend that much time alone with your own thoughts. Although he did tell me at the beginning of the year, that he often goes days without speaking, this is just the first time I've actually witnessed it, usually I can't get him to shut up.

---

It has no been five days! Five bloody days! Five! He probably isn't even thinking about me anymore. He has probably trailed off on some spree thinking about the different ways you can kill someone with tobacco ash. He is oddly interested in tobacco ash, and murder.....but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about....he won't ever kill anyone...I hope he won't...I hope he hasn't already...Oh God, what if he is thinking about how to kill me!?

---

He is actually going to kill me, with boredom. I really need to find more friends. It has now come to the point I have done both mine and Sherlock's homework, written to my entire family and watched the entire first season of Doctor Who. I am literally going craz-
"John" a deep voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Sherlock! Your talking!" I nearly shouted as I spun to face him.
"Why are you so shocked? I've know how to talk for years." He was honestly confused
"Yes I know Sherlock" I laughed "But you haven't talked in days."
"I often don't speak while I'm thinking."
"So what's up?"
"The sky?" He titled his head, obviously not familiar with the expression.
"No I mean, what have you thought
about?"
"What you said...and other things."
"And what did you come to?"
"John, I am already in a relationship with Molly."
"Oh" I sighed
"And I am extremely unhappy in it, I love Molly but not the way she loves me. I never understood why, well I actually, I've always known why, but I've chosen to ignore it. Usually I'm very well behaved, and if I do...do...things...it is over quickly and I never see the person again. But with you, well I see you everyday and frankly that pisses me off!"
"Excuse me?" I began to object.
"Shut up John! You anger me because you are living a life I can't live. And being around you makes me want to be myself, and be with you. But I can't- I can't have my family knowing any of this. So if you will be discreet like you said, then I would like to be in a relationship with you, and I will recognize it as such."
I didn't know what to say, I just sat there staring at him, praying that words would come out of my mouth.
I was exuberant but I couldn't say it, so I just sat and stared.
Sherlock's face dropped "John? I waited to long didn't I? You don't want me anymore. It ok I understand"
I got up and walked over to him, he was staring at the ground like a sad, adorable puppy. Then finally I started to form words "Oh course I want you Sherlock" I put my hand on his cheek and moved his face up towards mine, so that I could kiss my new boyfriend.

---

Things went on pretty much as they were, except with more cuddling, and hand holding and kissing and a lot more sex. I thought Sherlock would be rather shy about it, but it turned out, in that aspect, he was just like every other boy our age. I certainly wasn't complaining though!
However that was the only aspect of Sherlock that resembled anyone else on the planet. I already knew that he was brilliant and strange but it seemed as if almost everyday I discovered something about my new boyfriend. For instance, I was getting ready the same time he was one day, and I heard him singing in the shower. The fact that he was singing at all surprised me, the fact they he was singing in Russian surprised me even more. In contrast to adorable traits he also had really annoying ones; I dozed of one night while he was in his mind palace, and he lobbed a book at my head! Apparently I was snoring and he couldn't think with the noise.
Even with everything I learn about him, the most amazing quality he has is his ability to deduce people. I have seen him do it a thousand times by now and it still amazes me. Unfortunately with his deductions came quite a superiority complex and a seemingly overwhelming urge to manipulate people.
I thought that our relationship would be above all of his mind games, that he would stop deducing me once we were a couple or that he would stop attempting to bend my will by confusing me. Needless to say, I was wrong.
One random Wednesday I was sitting at my desk doing homework, annoyed at Sherlock from a small fight we had had earlier in the day. It wasn't even a fight really, it was just Sherlock being himself and saying something rude and me becoming defensive. Nevertheless I was annoyed with my dormmate.
Sherlock walked into the room coming from his math class and stopped three steps in.
"You are kidding aren't you?" He sighed and rolled his eyes.
"What?" I snapped
"You can't be mad at me. I haven't even seen you today, so therefore I haven't done anything for you to be mad about."
"I have seen you today Sherlock but I'm not mad." I decided.
"Well obviously you are John. Your jaw is clenched, your pencil is drenched from sweaty palms, the marks on your paper are much deeper than your usual writing from added pressure, and the hem of your shirt is wrinkled from where you've been balling it in your fist."
"I'm not mad." I said again.
"Then why are the Tums out?"
"Because I had a stomachache!"
"Stomach pain can be caused by anger or stress."
"Or bad chicken! Stop deducing me, arsehole!"
"Irritability. I know you are angry, stop denying it."
"It will pass as long as you shut up and leave me alone for the night."
"So you are angry. Why did you deny it? What was the point? Please John I don't have time for your immature games. This will be much easier if you just admit I'm right instead of trying to fight me all the time. I have the superior intellect in the relationship, you need to accept that."
"You are the biggest twat, Sherlock! Shut up and leave me alone you cocky bastard!" I shouted.
"Hmm, yelling, another sign of anger."
"I'm going to kill you." I glared
"Alright. Go ahead." He said extending his arms in an inviting manner. This confused me, I was accepting a witty, demeaning response.
"Go ahead kill me. If you are mad at me then I see no reason to go on."
"Oh come off it!" I rolled my eyes at his mockery.
"I mean it John. If you aren't in my life I see no reason to go on. My heart will be empty, my hand will be cold without yours, my eyes will be bored without you to gaze upon. If you aren't in the room to brighten it then I don't want to be in the room. If you aren't in my life then I don't want one, so go ahead kill me, before I have to suffer a day without you."
I just looked at him and blinked. Who could be mad after that? I wasn't even mad, just annoyed. I stood up, walked over and grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers.
"I suppose I don't have to kill you. Maybe I was overreacting to the whole situation. I'm sorry I was angry." I reached up to kiss him, but as I did he began to laugh.
"What is it like in your funny little brain? I just got you to apologize for something I caused by reciting some romantic slush. Really John you must improve you brain power if you ever want to stand a chance in an argument with me."
Sherlock waked away and plopped on his bed still laughing. I stood there staring at where he was standing, angrier than ever, yet slightly impressed.

---

Sherlock and I were working on a lab together in chemistry. Well we weren't really working together, it was more Sherlock staring at me well I did the lab he had already completed. I had pestered him for a while to just give me the answers but he refused, and I was blundering through the lab like a moron. Although it was organic chemistry so I was lucky I understood anything at all. I walked across the lab to grab a beaker when I heard someone say to their lab partner "He's not even doing anything! He's just sitting their, starring into space like the freak he is!"
I looked over at Sherlock to see what he was doing, to most people it would look as if he was just zoned out, but I could tell that he was in his mind palace. Unfortunately this means that the girl was in fact talking about Sherlock. Why did people keep calling him a freak? I truly didn't understand. I hadn't ever actually talked to the girl but I'm pretty sure her name was Sally. I turned to her, an annoyed expression on my face.
"Sorry, uh what did you say?"
"Oh, just commenting on the freak." She laughed.
"Who are you referring to?" I asked even though I already knew the answer.
"Ya know the freak, Sherlock." She gave me an odd look, as if this was common knowledge.
"Why are you calling him that?"
"Because that's what he is." Sally snapped
"Have you ever even talked to him before?"
"I don't need to talk to him, to know what he is, but unfortunately yes I have."
"Well then you should know that he isn't a freak, he's a genius."
"Oh really then how come he has no idea how to do the assignment and has you doing all the work for him?"
"He's already finished the lab, actually."
"Whatever he is a freak."
"Well you're a bitch." I sneered.
"Excuse me!" She barked, standing up.
"Oh I'm sorry, I must not have been clear enough. You're a slimy jealous mouth-breathing bitch! Don't ever let me hear you talk about Sherlock like that again!"
Sally stood there gaping, apparently short of comebacks, so I grabbed my beaker and went back to my table. I began working through the lab again, when I heard a faint "Thank you," come from Sherlock's direction.