Chapter Six

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by _theyoungwriter

by _theyoungwriter

John's POV

It's Christmas day, I woke up early like every Christmas day. Sherlock was still sleeping soundly on my bed, he forced me to sleep on the air bed. His curly raven hair fell over his eyes as he slept. I pushed myself off the air bed being careful not to make a sound, then I grabbed my dressing gown and headed downstairs. My back was stiff from sleeping on the half-inflated air bed.My mum was already awake, at least I think she is. She is sat upright in the living room on the couch, I walked in carefully and sat on the couch next to her.

'Merry Christmas, Mum.' I said quietly, her eyes were open but it looked like she wasn't really fully there.

'Mum, did you hear me?' She didn't respond, for god sake, she must be drunk from last night, what a shocker.

'For god sake mum, you couldn't be sober for one day? Even when my friend is here, of course you couldn't though, you're not capable of that are you. You're not capable of being sober for more than three hours. Mum you need help, let us get you some help' I'm sat next to her by now with my hands resting on her, but she didn't react, her face remained an emotionless mask. I sat waiting for a reaction from her for a couple of minute before getting up to go to the kitchen. Stood in the doorway was Sherlock, arms folded across his chest, and with a major case of bed head. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh, at which Sherlock scowled down at me.

'What's funny?'

'Nothing Sherlock, Merry Christmas.'

'Merry Christmas, John.' He replied, much to my shock,

'I didn't think you did Christmas?' I walked past him to the kitchen.

'I don't, but I can at least wish a Merry Christmas.'

'Pancakes?'

'What?' The lanky boy stood behind me peering over my shoulder at the pan that I had retrevied out of the cupboard.

'Pancakes, Sherlock, do you want pancakes?' I turned to face him and he looked utterly confused.

'I've never had pancakes before, John.'

'How have you- Nevermind, I'll make pancakes.'

Sherlock nodded and headed over to the table.

Sherlock's POV

Pancakes. John is making pancakes for breakfast, on Christmas day, I wonder if it's tradition. I woke up this morning and John wasn't on the air bed, so I went down to find him and he was sat on the couch with his alchoholic mother. He was saying something to her, he seemed really pissed off. When he got up to leave, he looked quite upset, he was hunched slightly, most likely from the air bed, it was fully blown last night but only half-inflated this morning. John put a plate infront of me along with 2 bottles, one was chocolate sauce, the other was maple syrup.

'Pancake, Sherlock.' John sat across from me and grinned over at me, waiting for me to eat the pancake.

'How am I supposed to eat it?' John laughed and reached across to grab the bottle of chocolate sauce, then squirted it on his pancake, finally he rolled it up and began to eat it. I took the bottle of syrup and did the same. I took a bite out of it, the sweet flavours danced on my tounge. I grinned slightly and John looked up at me.

'So, do you like it?'

I pulled a fake grimace and put the rolled up pancake down on the plate, I heard John sigh.

'Merry Christmas!' John's father bellowed from the bottom of the stairs, John turned around to wish him a merry christmas and I quickly took another bite out of the pancake.

(A/N: Another short chapter, sorry! So Sherlock has never had pancakes I decided.