I Never Do

Anything

The time comes for John to join Sherlock and his family for their visit to Uncle Rudy's.

All throughout the car ride, Sherlock tells John all about the bees; what different kinds there are, what they do, how to be careful around them, everything.

John listens with rapt attention, becoming more and more interested in bees along the way. He can't help but smile as Sherlock goes on and on about them. He's never seen someone so passionate about something in his life.

The car pulls up into the driveway and they all exit. Sherlock grabs John's hand and pulls him along to the backyard. He shows John the beehives and explains what the bees do and how they help the environment.

John asked questions every now and then, and Sherlock answers them with enthusiasm.

After Sherlock finishes talking, his mother announced that it was lunch time. They all gather in the dining room and ate. After they were finished, Mycroft helped clean and do the dishes while Sherlock dragged John aside to talk.

"You wanted to know more about my . . . thing?"

"Autism?"

Sherlock nodded and began to wring his thumbs nervously.

"Yeah, that."

"Sherlock, it's okay. I just want to understand you."

Sherlock smiled a bit at that.

"No one's ever bothered to understand me before; besides my family, of course, but they only made me better at this human emotions . . . thing. I used to be way worse as a kid. Or so I'm told."

John grinned and motioned for him to continue.

"Basically, loud noises are a no-no, and sometimes so is touch. I don't like to be touched, but I find that it doesn't bother me when you do it. I sometimes can't even handle it when my own brother does it. I'm getting used to it, though. They make sure to hug me every once in a while."

John just continued to smile.

"Sometimes, to comfort myself when things get to be too much, I hum or I listen to music. I don't like to eat certain stuff due to the textures. Some textures I just can't stand, like apple sauce, or oatmeal, and some dry foods.

I find it very hard to discern people's emotions sometimes. That whole rumor about us being unable to empathize is a load of rubbish, by the way. It's not easy to, but it's not exactly non-existent. We can empathize.

That's pretty much it, really. I'm told that some people with autism have it way worse than I do, so I'm thankful that I got to be a little bit better at stuff."

John nodded. "Well, whenever you're feeling any type of way, just let me know so that I can try to help, yeah? I want to be there for you."

Sherlock smiled and nodded. "Thank you, John."

"Of course, mate."

When Mycroft was done helping in the kitchen and dining room, he joined John and Sherlock in the living room.

"So John, Sherlock tells me that you'd like to be a doctor?"

John nodded. "Yeah, I read a lot of medical books. I just find it fascinating, plus I want to help people, you know?"

Mycroft hums. "Interesting. Sherlock here wants to be a scientist."

Sherlock nods with pride. "Scientists are cool. They get to mess with all kinds of stuff. I like to mix things up and see what they do; Mycroft bought me a practice kit when I was ten and I've used it ever since. It's amazing."

"That's really neat, Sherlock. You'll have to show me one day."

"I can show you now if you'd like?"

At that moment his parents joined them.

"Not right now, Sherlock. I'd like to get to know this fellow," his father said.

Sherlock frowned momentarily, but when John started talking about himself he got excited to learn more and more.

"Well, sir, there's not much -"

"There's a lot!" Sherlock interrupted.

John blushed. "Well not really," he said.

He went on to tell them about himself, leaving out the tale of his parents.

Time passed, and before they knew it it became dark out.

Their mother stood, and their father followed. "Come along, boys, say goodbye to your uncle before we go."

Sherlock ran over to him and hugged him tight.

Mycroft shook his hand.

As they pulled up into John's driveway, Sherlock said goodnight to his parents and Mycroft before jumping out of the car to follow John up to his door.

"Fair warning, my dad can get to be a bit much sometimes, so it's best to stay in my room most of the time. He's not bad, but he's not very good, either. He just had a semi-short temper about everything. So don't be afraid, okay?"

Sherlock nodded timidly.

John unlocked and opened the front door before stepping in, Sherlock following a second later.

"Dad, I'm home!"

"There's some cake in the fridge, just don't eat it all."

"Aye," John looked at Sherlock and grinned.

"Like I said, good and bad days."

Sherlock laughed quietly. "I have a lot of those."

"Come on, I'll grab us a slice we can share while we watch Bond."

Sherlock followed closely behind John each step of the way, to the kitchen and to his bedroom. Once inside John's room, he shut the door behind him and sat down on his bed.

John put the plate that held their slice of cake on his desk and then started to look around in a drawer beside his bed. Sherlock peeked and saw it full of movies.

"Now, before we begin this wonderful adventure, I must warn you that there is a lot of loud shooting, crashes, what have you; is that going to bother you?"

"So long as it's not too loud," Sherlock grinned.

John nodded and put one of the movies in his VHS player.

Movie after movie, Sherlock found that he didn't really care for Bond, but because he cared for John, he kept his attention on the films and even asked questions whenever he got confused or lost.

John always answered him with as much enthusiasm as he did when John asked him about bees. Sherlock found that he'd endure anything for John Watson. Even these boring Bond films.