Like a Fairytale

And The Truth Flows Forth

    "Good morning." she muttered, poking at the eggs unnecessarily.
"Good morning." Sherlock agreed, not sure what to say or what to do. He rocked back and forth nervously on his heels, trying to pick out the precise words to say. The silence was eating away at both of them, but this wasn't John, this silence couldn't be broken with a loving glance or hand holding, unfortunately this demanded conversation that Mrs. Hudson surely wouldn't be supplying.
"Look, about last night, I'm really sorry you had to see that, I really am, and I know it's probably awkward for both of us..." Sherlock started.
"That was the Watson boy wasn't it, John?" Mrs. Hudson asked without looking up. The tone of her usually cheerful voice said it all, she was scared for him. She knew what would happen if anyone found out, or maybe even told the Holmes parents already.
"Yes, and that's exactly why you can't tell my parents, or Mycroft, not anyone." Sherlock insisted. Mrs. Hudson turned off the burner kind of aggressively and turned to face him, looking very sad.
"I understand that you're young, and that you might think this is true love, but just because you insist it's right doesn't mean it is." Mrs. Hudson pointed out, making Sherlock's heart plummet. "I don't think you can see just how wrong it is. You're Sherlock Holmes, and he's John Watson, you've been coming home crying about him since the day you met and your families have been at each other's throats since the Watsons moved here."
"But, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock looked around apprehensively, should he really admit everything here, was there anyone ease dropping? He dropped his voice to a cautious whisper, just in case. "I've liked him since the day we met as well."
"This can't be public Sherlock, you're somewhat of a celebrity, and so it he, maybe you've liked him but imagine what it could do to the company?" Mrs. Hudson pointed out. Now Sherlock was just mad. How dare she say this was about the company, this had nothing to do with it! Just because they were both born into competing steel manufacturers doesn't mean they weren't allowed to have interlocking love lives.
"There's more to life than my father's company!" Sherlock hissed, crossing his arms in dislike.
"Sherlock dear it'll be yours before you know it, and you need to make sure that you..."
"Does my opinion have any say around here, do I have any impact in any of your lives? You kill my dog, you tell me I can't love someone else, you tell me that the only thing you need me for is for the company? Well I'm sorry to disappoint, but I can jump head first out my bedroom window and right not the only reason I'm not is John Watson, so go on and try to break us apart, because my skull will follow suit." Sherlock yelled, breathing heavy and waiting for Mrs. Hudson to explode on him once again. But she didn't, of course. She took the motherly route; she burst into tears and hugged him so ferociously that he couldn't breathe.
"I'm so sorry Sherlock, I was being stupid, you do count!" she exclaimed, hugging him, if possible, even tighter. Hugging and being all close was nice with John, but with any other human being it was just plain miserable. Sherlock tried to push her gently off, not so that she thought he was mad at her, which he still kind of was, but so she understood that he valued personal space.
"I forgive you, now, let me go." Sherlock insisted, and finally she released him, her glasses fogged up with tears.
"Just be careful Sherlock, if your parents find out who knows what they'd say?" she pointed out.
"I don't want to find out, you won't tell them will you?" Sherlock asked hopefully.
"Not a chance. And I put his jacket in your backpack." She added with a slight smile.
"Thank you." Sherlock said, and finally he was able to breathe again. Noticing the time he grabbed his lunch, bag, and coat and was out the door, walking swiftly so that he didn't miss the first bell. The day was muggy and cloudy from the rain that night, the leafless trees were dropping ever so slightly, but there was still no snow even though it was quite a cold day. The snow should be coming soon though. Sherlock was still pondering what Mrs. Hudson had said; before he had blown up on her she looked really scared for him. Was that how everyone saw it? The business before their love life? What a safe life they must be leading if that was true. She had said it was wrong, truly wrong, that the two families might merge, but wasn't the best thing to do with competing families? Think of how rich they would all be if they were able to work together, merge the companies? Even though CEO sounds miserable it sounded a lot better if John was at his side. But he knew the day that the Holmes and Watson families shook hands would never come, even one mention of Watson and Mycroft went all tesne, like he wanted to punch something. The ones more in depth with the company were blind with fury, while the runner ups were blind with love. The odds looked pretty bad for both of there. Sherlock walked through the door to the school, kind of nervous in case someone had somehow figured it out, or Mrs. Hudson had posted something online or something. The last one wasn't that threatening considering Sherlock doubted she knew how to turn a phone on, it was more someone walking by and noticing the two as they talked on the porch that bothered him.
"Hey Freak!" Anderson came barreling into him, throwing Sherlock into the locker, dropping his bag in shock. There was a crowd around now, Sherlock had no idea what he did wrong of course, but he got up to his feet, rubbing his head.
"Kiss any boys when you were out?" Anderson laughed, kicking his bag open. Suddenly Sherlock's heart stopped, John's jacket was in there, to be returned, if Anderson found it, what would he manage to piece together?
"Where were you Freak, we were worried you might have still been alive?" Greg laughed. Anderson kicked his bag again, and now the flap was opening even more... Sherlock dove to the ground for the strap, he couldn't let Anderson or anyone know what was hidden in there. But Anderson stuck a foot in his way, kicking his stomach and pushing over, far beyond arms reach of the bag.
"What do you think you're doing?" Anderson laughed. "Are you going to tackle me?" Sherlock looked up, coughing since the wind had been knocked out of him, and then saw John in the mix of the crowd. He wasn't even pretending to look happy, he looked worried out of his mind, as if he were about to jump into the crowd and get Sherlock out. Of course that would be the stupidest thing he'd ever done, but right now they might find out anyway.
"He was going for the bag!" Greg pointed out; lunging for the strap, but Anderson pushed him out of the way as well, into the now swarming crowd, and grabbed the bag for himself.
"Now what is the Freak hiding? A bomb? Drugs? A gun, is he going to try to shoot us?" Anderson laughed along with the rest of the crowd. "Pathetic." He mumbled. Sherlock lunged at the bag again, and Anderson planted a firm punch in his shoulder, making Sherlock stumble back like a scared dog. So this was it, there was nothing he was going to be able to do about it. Anderson peered into the bag with a laugh on his face, but the amusement faded when he saw what was in the bag.
"Oh my god Freak, we've got you now." He pulled out the jacket, green and red and horrible, and showed it to the crowd. "This is John's!" he exclaimed, and everyone's eyes turned onto John, who stood, blushing, and putting on an expression of mock surprise and anger.
"What? That's where it went, you took it?!" John growled, stepping forward, snatching the jacket and the bag and throwing the contents everywhere. "You think it's funny to steal?" Sherlock didn't know what he was going to do, was he going to pose a fight or was he actually angry?
"I, I was..." Sherlock started, but the anger in John's eyes made his voice leave him. Even if it was just an act it was convincing enough to make Sherlock doubt John's loyalties yet again.
"Oh yes, I bet you just saw it laying there on the bleachers and thought that I must have dropped it, and that you'd wear it around for a little bit and then return it." John snapped, making the entire crowd laugh once again. "I'll tell you this Freak, just because you're a gay loser doesn't mean we all have to forgive your crimes because we feel sorry for you. You ask for everything you get." John decided, and he pushed Sherlock swiftly into the crowd before storming away. The bell rang and Sherlock stood, defeated, next to the lockers as he waited for the crowd to disperse. That was quite a speech, quite a heartbreaking speech, it might actually have been real... The crowd was gone now and the halls were empty, echoing with his footsteps as he tried to collect the contents of his bag that had been strewed around the tile floors. He was reaching to get his book when he heard rapid footsteps coming at him, and at first he thought Anderson still had some punches with his name on it, but when he looked up it was John, coming at him like a lone missile and looking devastated.
"Did it work?" he asked, throwing his arms around Sherlock's neck and hugging him on the spot.
"Yes, shush, you should be in class." Sherlock pointed out, pulling away from John's embrace.
"So should you." John debated.
"Well I'm trying to get there." Sherlock pointed out.
"How did Mrs. Hudson take it?" John asked. "Did I get out in time?"
"Well, you stuck around long enough for her to realize you weren't, you know, a female, but it was the bloody jacket that gave it away." Sherlock grumbled.
"And what did she say?"
"Well she started going on about how inappropriate it was and how we should really think of the business, but then I went off on her and she started to cry, saying how it was fine and she was happy, it was quite pathetic actually." Sherlock shrugged. John went over to pick up a couple of pencils that had rolled away, frowning.
"Well it's good that she bought it." he decided.
"There was nothing to buy, I told her the truth." Sherlock pointed out.
"Well good thing she accepted it." John corrected. "I really wished she hadn't come though, I was quite enjoying that." John admitted with a half-smile, handing a blushing Sherlock the pencils.
"We'll talk later; I've really got to go." Sherlock decided.
"Oh, ya, forgot, class, I'll see you later." John agreed, but neither of them made a move to leave. It was as if they both wanted to make some gesture of goodbye or something, like an awkward kiss. In the end Sherlock turned away, he didn't have time for this unfortunately, and walked swiftly back to class, apologizing over and over for his lateness to a scowling teacher.