A Study In Love - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Nine

The next few days were sort of a blur for John. He and Sherlock had been avoiding each other like the plague, and whenever they did happen to be in the same room all they did was exchange glares. Over time though, the glares softened into sorrowful glances and apologetic looks. Neither of them knew why they were fighting, but neither man was willing to make the first move towards reconciliation, so they remained on shaky ground for far much longer than they should've.

For those days when he and Sherlock weren't speaking, John's existence was a sad one. John suffered in silence while he sat in his room, or sat alone in a pub, sipping a glass of water and watching whatever football game was on.

One day the weather was nice enough for John to consider having a nice stroll through the park. He'd grabbed his phone and keys from his bedside table and went on his way. Sherlock hadn't been in the living room when he'd passed through. But then again, he hardly ever was when John was home.

When John's feet hit the pavement he looked up at the bright sky, squinting his eyes against the sun. He turned and looked up at the window he knew looked into their flat, and thought he saw a figure standing there. He didn't look long, but turned around and began walking away. His hands swung stiffly by his sides as he walked, and his gaze stayed forwards and intense. He turned a few corners and came across a small park. He looked around for a bench to sit on and relax, and his eyes caught sight of a familiar face.

"Ollie?" he called out, taking a few steps closer to the man sitting down on a bench a few feet away. "Oliver Wood?" The man had dark brown hair, still shaggy like it had been in his college days. In fact, he looked like he hadn't changed at all since the last time John had seen him. He made a mental note to ask him if he'd found the fountain of youth or something.

He was looking around, most likely for the person who had called his name. When his eyes landed on John a wide grin spread across his face and he stood up.

"John! Get your arse over here!" He said, waving him over. John laughed and walked towards him. They exchanged a handshake, and Oliver offered for John to sit down on the bench beside him.

"How have you been mate?" he asked. John made a face and shrugged.

"I've been alright I suppose. You?"

"I've been pretty good myself." He placed his arm on the back of the bench and let out a breath. He glanced over at Johns' direction before focusing on something in front of him. "What are you doing back here? I thought you joined the army or something. I know you're not old enough to be retired." John sighed and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I was over in Afghanistan not too long ago."He reached up and placed a hand on his left shoulder. "But I...erm, I got shot so they sent me back home."

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Not terribly so. I've been enjoying myself here. I've actually got a nice flatshare over on Baker Street." He chuckled to himself. "It's a lot more cozy than the barracks were." They laughed together, before Oliver spoke.

"Flatshare you say?" John nodded. "Who with?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh I've heard of him. He's some kind of detective right?" John nodded his head again. "Yeah, my sister was telling me about how he cracked some murder case not too long ago." He ran a hand through his messy hair. "She says he's quite the eccentric fellow. Is that true?"

"Very." John said after making a noise that sounded inhuman. His jaw clenched and he felt himself tense up. Oliver must've noticed it too, as the next thing he did was place a hand on John's shoulder and give him a concerned look.