Deerstalkers and Love Letters - Teenlock

3. Showdown

The days slowly pass, days soon creeping into weeks. Over time the weather has begun to grow colder and the Christmas holidays are only a month away. It's now mid-November. I sit on my bed, still in my pyjamas, a pile of textbooks laying in-front of me. Our exams are coming up soon and I need to revise. Dad would kill me if I failed. It's Tuesday morning, just turned eight am. Classes don't start for at least another hour yet. I curl up into my duvet and take a sip of tea. I hear the key turn in the door and a few seconds later, Sherlock enters, dressed in his usual long coat and wrapped in a scarf.
"John," he says, stopping to close the door behind him.
"Sherlock," I reply, not really focusing on him.
"I need help."

I'd never heard Sherlock Holmes ask someone for help before, especially him of all people. He knew that he was smarter than most students and he took pride in it. In reality he loved all of the attention it brought him. That's one of the things I noticed about him when he first met.
"Help?" I ask, looking up from my notebooks.
"Yes quite important actually," Sherlock states. He glances at my pyjamas.
"I hope I haven't intruded on anything."
I stand up quickly, pushing the books aside.
"No no it's fine. What do you need help with?"
"I'll explain in a minute," he says quickly.
"But will you come?"
I nod, rather reluctantly.

After I've gotten dressed, me and him head downstairs and into the school library. We sit at a table towards the back so that nobody can hear us. I turn and look at Sherlock.
"So why have you dragged me down here? This can't take long, lessons are starting soon."
He bites his lip for a moment.
"It's about one of my cases John," he says, pulling out his phone from his satchel.
"A what?"
"A case. Some of the students here email me problems and I'll work them out. Get it?" He explains, showing me some examples from his phone.
"But I need help on this one," Sherlock continues.
"Someone has been stealing documents from the headmaster's office."
"And?" I ask.
"Each document contains personal information about the students here. The culprit could do anything with that information."
The look on his face slowly begins to turn more solemn and I look around the room, realising that the bell has already rung.
"Well," I say, standing up.
"It all seems very interesting and I've got a free period tomorrow afternoon so-"
"You're not staying?" Sherlock asks, his face sinking slightly.
Screw it.

I'd never bunked a lesson before. I'd seen all of the other kids in my year do it but I'd never had the nerve to myself. What would dad think? No, forget him. Forget about all of my "perfect grades." I follow him down the hallway until we both come to a stop outside the headmaster's study.
"Imagine this," Sherlock mutters.
"The thief would have come from that staircase up there or through that corridor. But he would of had to do it when it was all quiet, like for instance at night. But that's nearly impossible because the staff always patrol the hallways at night."
I can hear his voice trail off and I frown slightly. The hallway is clear now, everybody's reached their lessons. Then something catches my eye.
"Sherlock," I say quickly.
"Not now John I'm thinking."
"He's here."

•••••

And with that everything breaks into chaos.
"Come on John!" Sherlock cries, grabbing onto my hand.
"Wha!?" I mumble, confused.
But Sherlock's already begun to run down the hallway, dragging me with him. The boy's not that far ahead of us but we can't keep this up for long.
"Stop!" Sherlock yells as we close in on the boy. His back's still turned to us.
"It's a shame John," a sleepy Irish accent says casually.
"Thought you would of called."
My stomach churns, I remember that voice. The boy turns around and pouts.
"Who are you?" Sherlock demands.
I just stand there, still in shock.
"Jim Moriarty," Jim says with a smirk.
"Remember me? I gave you my number."
Sherlock looks at me, finally realising what's happening.
"Give us the documents," I say, only just remembering that I'm still holding Sherlock's hand.
"Of course," Jim replies.
"But I want something in return."