What do you want to be when you grow up? I don't want to be alone.

7

"Hey," John called as he entered the flat, coming home from school. I raised a hand in reply but didn’t look up. "Whatcha doin?" he asked, running the words together.

"Experimenting..." I felt rather than saw him move to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder as I worked.

"Is that my copy of Narnia?"

"Yes," I stated simply, not looking up. If made one wrong move the whole experiment could go wrong and I would have to start from scratch.

"Sherlock, that was a library book!"

John had been living with me for about a month now. He had been quiet and shy at first, but slowly he had come out of his shell and became more open like the John I knew and loved. I had taken a job at the yard so I could support him, though I hated it. Tedious work most of it, and too much paperwork, but it was the closest thing to my former one I could get without reinventing the position. After easily forging some papers and a long and dull interview, I had a...job.

"How was school?" I asked, trying to take his attention off the library book I would now have to pay for.

"Fine..." I finished my experiment and stood from the table, removing my goggles and looking John up and down.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

I cocked and eyebrow and watched him for a minute. "It still bothers you, doesn’t it?" Even though I added the question, we both knew that it was more of a statement than anything else. Over the past few weeks I had tried to get John to talk about what had happened between him and his father, but every time I mentioned it he would avoid it by changing subject or doing homework or something similar. I already knew everything that happened, but I wanted him to trust me enough to tell me. That, and I wasn’t sure what would be invading his privacy.

"I’m fine."

"John, you need to talk about it." I said, removing my gloves that were now stained with acid from my experiment.

"No, I don’t. Can’t you just let it go?"

"John, I know."

"K-know?" he stuttered out.

"About what happened and why." I expected him to ask me how I knew in an attempt to delay talking, but he didn’t. Instead his eyes went wide as his jaw dropped. "John?" I asked cautiously. His breathing became shallow and faster as his eyes searched around franticly like a caged animal. He stood paralyzed for a moment before bolting out of the room. I heard the door to the room John had made his slam shut as I rushed out of the room after him. "John!" I could hear him just on the other side of the door, his breathing shallow and loud. I tried to open the door but it was locked. Why was he so panick- Oh, stupid, stupid! "John, listen to me! I am not going to hurt you! I don’t care if you’re gay. Well, I care, I mean, it’s a part of you- Oh, you know what I mean! John, please."

After a while his breathing became slower and closer to normal. I tried the door again but it was still locked. Paperclips. I could easily pick the lock if I only had... I searched around the flat, papers fluttering in my haste. Finally finding one, I unbent it and went back over to the door. The lock was easy to pick and in a minute I had it unlocked. I opened the door slowly. When I got it halfway open it stopped, blocked.

"Oh great, you pick locks too..." I heard muttered from behind the door. I peeked around the door to see John slumped on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them.

"You okay?" He shrugged.

"How did you...? Right, you’re you. You know everything." I slid in the room and crouched down in front of him, unsure of what to say next. I had never been good when it came to feelings, mine or otherwise. It was a miracle I had made it this far. He looked up at me. "You promise?"

I nodded. "I would never hurt you."

John looked back down into his lap. "I’m scared Sherlock. What if... What if he tries to take me back?"

"I won’t let him." He looked up at me with big hopeful eyes. "Can we talk about this now?"

He hesitated a moment before nodding. "Yeah."