Told You So

3

John POV

I looked at Sherlock as he tried I pass by me to go down the stairs. "Can we talk?" I asked, hoping he'd agree. He merely nodded and walked back. "Look, Sherlock, I realise I was being an arse, but I was worried. I get you being mad at me, but I really and truly am sorry." Sherlock nodded.

"John, it's okay. It doesn't matter; I've gotten used to not being wanted by anyone."

"Oh my God! Sherlock! I want to be your friend! I'm not like the other people you've met! I didn't spit at you like those assholes from the canteen!"

I walked towards him, holding out my hand noting that he was shrinking away like a lost puppy. "John, you might want to leave; there's a student meet-up where you have to go get friends. I'll be down in a second," Sherlock whispered.

"I'll wait for you. I don't like these guys, and you need a little help if all the guys jump on you."

He smirked and shook his head before following me down to the football field. I noted Anderson and co hanging at the entrance as we walked in. Sherlock stiffened beside me as we passed by them.

"Freak! What you do to our new star? You brainwash him to follow you around?"

"He doesn't have to when he's better company than the lot of you!"

"John, just stop."

I turned to look at Sherlock, who was pleading me with one look to stop, and nodded. He sighed as we got away and into a private area. "Sherlock, why do you just allow them to do that? They're so stupid and hateful! Why?" I asked.

"I believe I've done answered that. No one cares for me. I'm not stupid like you all believe."

"I do not think that!"

"Doesn't matter. Besides, let's do what we're suppose to do and mingle."

"Dammit Sherlock! Can't you understand that I don't hate you? I don't care about you being yourself; just, I want to understand and be your friend."

Sherlock looked at me weirdly before walking forward to the football captain on his way over. "Gavin," he greeted, getting his name wrong.

"It's Greg!"

I ran over and said my hellos earning a glare from Sherlock, which I just smiled at. He looked away from me and muttered under his breath. "So Greg, is the football team any good?"

"Define good."

I chuckled at that, noticing that Sherlock had disappeared; I started looking around wildly when I noticed he was surrounded. "Shit! I'll be back!" I yelled, running after the circled lanky boy.

"Oh look! Freaks little pet has came to rescue him!" Anderson sneered as I made my way towards the group. I glared at Anderson when I realised Sherlock's shirt had been ripped with a tiny line of blood appearing on his abdomen.

"John, I'm sorry," Sherlock whimpered, falling on my left side. I held him up as I made our way to the dorm room.

"It's okay. It's not your fault."