For Only You (Teenlock!/Johnlock)

Chapter 1: Turn of Events

AN: Hello, all! I am more than aware that I started this fic two years ago. Now, it has been a very long process, what with GCSEs and AS Levels in between, but I have returned! I intend on brushing up my writing skills, and I will be going over each chapter and adding small details, fixing any mistakes, etc. So, here is the first updated chapter, I hope you enjoy! Do comment on anything you think could be improved. - N.H

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John's P.O.V

I waved a reluctant goodbye as Mum drove home with Harry, bleary eyes from her tears. With a sad smile, I turned towards my new home for the next couple of years; Bakers Institute, school for exceptionally bright persons aged 4 to 22- split into separate schools, of course. I took a look around at the fresh, green grass, the looming buildings and the hundreds of people all gathered together for the new school year. I already felt uneasy.

A tall man in a grey, expensive looking suit approached me, a broad grin on his aged face, a network of lines on his face betraying his youthful smile. He held out his hand to me, "Mr. Croft, pleased to meet you. Headmaster of Bakers Institute for the exceptionally bright. You are?"

"John Watson, Sir," I replied politely, my stance becoming more solid as I took his wrinkled hand in mine and shook it. An amiable smile graced my lips as my eyes met his, nervousness slowly easing away.

"Ah! Yes, Watson. Twelfth year of education, Biology and Physics?" Shock flickered in my eyes; did this man really remember the details of every pupil in the school? Wow.

"Um... Yes, Sir. Where will I be staying, Sir?"

"You will be in building B, room 221, with Sherlock Holmes," he replied, the same overly-friendly smile on his lips. It could have just been me, or was his voice laced with pity as he gave me this new information?

"Would you like me to take you there so you can dispose of your belongings?"

Perhaps I had imagined it. Shaking off the thought, I returned the smile, "Yes please, Sir. Thank you."

We walked down the long corridors of building B at a brisk paces until we reached room 221, where Mr. Croft departed with a soft smile and a strict reminder of an 'introduction to the year' assembly in one hour. Bracing myself for the inevitable with a deep breath, I knocked the door, a friendly smile in place for my new room mate.

"Come in," a muffled voice called.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside, the same baritone voice continuing.

"Hello. You must be John."

The statement slipped over my head as I took a look around the room, noticing some minor details past the head of curly hair that greeted me; fairly big, adjoining bathroom, two single beds (not bunk beds, thank God) and an awful lot of scientific equipment.

A nervous chuckle slipped past my lips as I realised I was yet to reply, my cheeks tinting slightly red against my will. "Yeah, you must be Sherlock. Nice to meet you. Alright if I come in?" I nodded towards the room behind him, shifting nervously from foot to foot, barely inside the room.

Sherlock cleared his throat and retreated further into the room, his arm flung out ahead of him in a welcome of sorts. Although he didn't speak, this was as good an invitation as any.

Bags dragging behind me, I shuffled inside, taking in what must be the very essence of Sherlock Holmes. There was a large poster of the periodic table above the head of his bed, books scattered among his dresser. His bed itself was a whirlwind of skinny jeans and smart shirts, stark contrast to the oak desk; the science equipment was organised perfectly, polished clean, with a notepad and pen placed neatly in front.