How Sage Became a Holmes//book the first (A Sherlock BBC Fanfiction)

-Entry Seven-

We settled into somewhat of a routine at 221b after the first few months. On the days I managed to show up and stay, (usually when there was a case) I'd sleep on the couch, maybe tidy the flat, dispose of any forgotten experiments, and help solve crimes. It was grand.
Of course, when I couldn't mange to steal away to Baker Street, I was at school, studying, writing, or rehearsing what I learned in theatre and music. The "real, boring life" sort of things like these would tend to go out the window when I was home (at the flat), and I slowly found myself loosing more and more interest in...well, school. But I smiled and faked it, because all hell would break loose if Mycroft didn't get his way concerning my education.

221b became "home" in my mind. I even remember the first time I called it that out loud. I arrived at the flat one day after school, calling a hello to Mrs Hudson on the way up the stairs, waltzing into the flat and plopping my school bag down on the couch. John was shouting something about vandalism and going to court on Tuesday..."Not again." I thought.
"Hello, boys. I'm home!" I announced, as I made my way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I almost shrieked, and slammed it shut again. "Sherlock!" I spun around to glare at him. I had failed to notice till then that they had stopped their arguing and were staring at me. "Sherlock Holmes, there is a head in fridge." No response. "What?" I asked, as they continued to stare at me.
"You...you said home." John smiled a bit. "You said you were home." My eyes widened slightly as I realized I had said it out loud and not just in my head, but I tried to play it cool.
"Yeah, well that's a huge compliment considering I find new body parts in the kitchen every time I come back!"

It was home from that day forward.