It was decided that Sherlock's house would be the best place to spend Christmas. While my family all lived far from London, it turned out that my boyfriend actually lived quite close in fact. With my injuries and everything the doctor's suggested that I shouldn't go too far, just incase something happens. Something like Jim Moriarty. They also decided to my dismay that I should use a wheelchair. Nurse Williams promised that it would only be for a week at most, just to make sure I don't have any dizzy spells and fall unconscious again, but the whole thing made me feel strange. The first time I tried it out I felt a feeling of isolation, I felt different from everyone else. But Sherlock was there with me. He held my hand the whole way through, his warm fingers slipping between mine. Every now and again he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek for reassurance. And he told me that everything would be fine, and that he was just glad to have me back especially for Christmas.
His parent's have driven down to greet us outside the main entrance of the hospital. I sit nervously in my chair, feeling the cold wind against my face. Sherlock stands calmly behind me, his hands resting upon my shoulders.
"I forgot to give you something John," he says suddenly, breaking the silence.
"If you hadn't of woken up then I would of left it with you tomorrow on Christmas Day."
I hear his voice trail off and it breaks my heart to hear him like that.
He pulls out the scarf from his coat pocket and wraps it gently around my neck.
"I think it suits you more," he says with a warm smile, stroking my hair.
"I managed to get it back at the end. I guess Moriarty was in too much of a state."
But his words are interrupted by a car horn sounding from the entrance gates. We both look up to see a posh car pull up outside. I was more delighted to see them than Sherlock. Mycroft walks up to greet us, followed by two adults who must be Sherlock's parents. The two brother's don't exchange a smile.
"Brother mine," Mycroft says matter-of
factly. He turns to face me and his lip curls.
"John."
Sherlock rolls his eyes and shoves past Mycroft to meet his parents, with me following closely behind him.
"Sherlock!" The woman cries happily, pulling him into a close hug. Sherlock groans slightly but quickly wraps his arms around her too.
"And you must be John," his father says with a smile.
"It's nice to meet you."
"You too," I mumble in response, my nerves slowly beginning to vanish.
"You do realise that it's freezing out here!" Mycroft explains with a frown upon his face. He digs his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Of course sorry dears," Sherlock's mother apologies hurriedly.
"Here John I'll help you into the car."
•••••
After about half an hour of driving, we eventually pull up outside of the Holmes' household. It's not snowing anymore, but there's still a think layer of it surrounding the streets. Sherlock helps me out of the car and I follow him to the front gate of the house. I hadn't noticed how much money they actually had, the place was huge. As Sherlock took me up to the front door, we were greeted by an older woman.
"Oh Sherlock love who's this!" She says cheerily, smiling down at me.
"Mrs Hudson this is John. John this is Mrs Hudson, our housekeeper."
We greet each-other and Mrs Hudson puts her hands on her hips.
"So, how long have you two been together?"
My face immediately goes red and Sherlock glances back to see whether his parents are in sight.
"Don't worry," she says with a grin.
"I can keep a secret."
We enter the house and I look around in awe. In the living room, a large Christmas tree sits in the corner, decorated in all kind of lights and tinsel. And in-front of me there's a fireplace, complete with Christmas lights lining the edges and a fire crackling inside. There's a large, seemingly-old bookcase stood by the window surrounded by a white sofa and some armchairs. I instantly fell in love with it. Sherlock leans in the doorway, watching me intently.
"My room?" He asks, after I've spent a few minutes in there. We agreed that the wheelchair wouldn't be needed while we were upstairs. Too much hassle. I follow Sherlock up the staircase and down the landing, until we reach a door on the right. Sherlock swings the door open and walks casually inside. It's how I expected it really. The whole room is a mess. By the window, there's a pile of old textbooks I recognise from school and a laptop resting on the table. His bed sits against the wall, the duvet is a dark shade of purple. Countless bits and pieces have been stuck to the wall, photographs, post-it notes, anything that could help him with his work. Even though it wasn't at all clean, I still admired it. And I admired him. Sherlock slumps down casually on the bed, lying back against the pillows. I climb onto the bed after him and lie against him, my hand on his chest. He slips an arm around my side before planting a kiss on my cheek. Maybe I was going to like this Christmas after all.
••••••
A/N: Next part may take a while to come out but thank you so much everyone for 350 reads I'm so grateful! x
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Deerstalkers and Love Letters - Teenlock
Fanfiction*Teenlock* "I still get butterflies even though I've seen you a hundred times." John Watson is fifteen. So is his new roommate, Sherlock Holmes. It's John's first year in London, and at his new boarding school. But there's something about Sher...
