Beside You- A Johnlock Fanfiction (BBC Sherlock) *UNDER HEAVY EDITING*

Chapter Eleven- To Cardiff!

                        Though she be but lithe, she is fierce.

-   William Shakespeare (It will eventually make sense why this quote is here. Trust me. Maybe not in this book, but… Well, you’ll see.)

A/N- Just to let you all know, I’ve been to Cardiff before and I know it very well, so basically all of the shops and places I’ll include here are ‘canon’ in real life. I might invent a couple of places, but we’ll see how it goes… I also want to apologize for all the fluff. The plotline’s really going to start to show more, very soon (there's actually a big bit somewhere in here). Love you all!

John

We saw that our train was going to be departing in twenty minutes, so we left for the platform to board, stopping off at the loos just before. Being jostled and bumped by people along the way, we finally made it onto the train and started to walk to our carriage- fortunately, we were in a quiet one. Lestrade had managed to get us all seats, but his and Molly’s were a few rows in front of ours. We placed the suitcase on the rack and sat down, me occupying the seat nearest to the window. 

When we started to move, Sherlock lifted up the arm rest between us and wrapped both arms around me. I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Sherlock, what’s going on? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s just everybody else seems to know and I don’t… I just…”

He chuckled lightly and pressed his lips against my forehead before speaking quietly in his soft, chocolaty voice; “Look, John, I’m sorry. You’ll find out soon and it will all make sense then… I just… I can’t tell you yet.”

“You can tell me anything, Sherlock. You know that, you can tell me everything,” I mumbled.

“And I will. I just need to get this in order first…” He hugged me tighter and rested his head on top of mine, whispering into my hair; “It will be worth it, I promise. Music?”

He pulled out his phone and a pair of ear buds. “Lestrade had spares.” Giving me one and inserting one into his own ear, he started to play some songs. I really loved his taste in music- it surprised me at first, I’d expected not as many songs with actual lyrics. My legs folded up beside me and I curled up into him as he stroked my back. We were both alert and wide awake, but this, I decided, was just as warm and good as being tired and under dim, hazy lights.

Occasionally, I’d glance out of the window and I could see the countryside whizz past. On the row beside us, a young couple were sitting together, a dark haired intelligent looking girl quietly humming the tune to what I could make out as ‘Skyfall’, with her head propped up against the boy’s chest. He stroked her hair as she gazed out the window, deep in thought. They were both dressed in long coats, the girl in a black, military style one rather similar to Sherlock’s and the boy in a trench coat. He had his head buried in a book, ‘Parade’s End’, and would occasionally read out a quotation for her, and she’d laugh or comment.

At one point, the boy looked at Sherlock and I and his jaw dropped. He tapped the girl on the shoulder a minute later and she turned around to see us- she reminded me of somebody. Quickly logging onto her phone to check something, she then looked at us and she gasped too, before smiling shyly. I smiled back. The boy nodded and told her something, and then they turned away, as not to be rude. 

Though I was still awake, I closed my eyes for a while, listening to Sherlock’s heartbeat to the music. It comforted me. Every now and again he’d kiss the top of my head and I could feel his eyes on me, sometimes even his hands tracing over my face. I tried to stop myself from smiling, but I couldn’t. He’d quickly wrap his arms around me again, realizing I wasn’t asleep.