My Saving Grace

Chapter 14

AN: Hi guys, it's your author. I know this chapter is a little short but it's packing some punch. let me know what you guys think, comment, vote, share it. I like to know all of your opinions.

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At practice, John's head wasn't in the game. He couldn't focus, every time that he thought about the sport, his thoughts drifted to the stupidly attractive boy with green eyes and black curly hair who he shared a flat with. It didn't help that Sherlock had locked himself in his room again and wasn't talking to John.

John thought about Sherlock like the way a fish thinks about water when it's been exposed to air. He thought so hard he had given himself a headache. He couldn't focus in school, his thoughts just drifted back to Sherlock. He thought about the past weekend. The way his hands had felt on John's skin. The way his voice had sounded early that morning

He closed his locker with a sigh and grabbed his stuff.

"Oi. John."

John turned to Greg.

"How was this weekend? After the party I mean. Sherlock was pretty drunk."

"I got him home and studied for the most part."

"Did anything happen?"

John sighed, he contemplated telling Greg about what had happened, and when Greg just stood looking at him, he spilled.

"I got him home and in bed and-" He paused. Should he say it?

"And?"

"And Sherlock told me he loved me."

"Did you listen?"

"To what he said?"

"Yes."

"No. He told me to read this notebook. He said it would tell me what I wanted to know, but I just tucked him into bed and got him to sleep. He was drunk, he didn't mean it."

Greg looked pensively at John. "Haven't you ever heard that drunk words are sober thoughts?"

"Sherlock Holmes does not love me. Even if he did I wouldn't know what to do."

"Tell me something?"

"What?"

"What would be so wrong with him loving you?"

"He would see the worst parts of me. I don't want him to know that version of me. He doesn't seem too fond of the good version."

"He seems to like that version if he's telling you he loves you."

"I guess you're right," John said with a shrug

"Tell me something?" 

"What?"

"What if Sherlock loved you despite what he knew? Like you with his bossy attitude and never answering any question that makes him uncomfortable."

John paused. He hadn't thought about it that way.

"We love people for who they are. Not for the person, they want us to love. The missed brush strokes don't stop a painting from being beautiful."

John was at a loss for words. Greg was right. John liked Sherlock for who he was, for the sassy attitude, and the way he ignored everyone and did what he wanted when he wanted. John like Sherlock for the good and the bad.

"Anyway, I have to go. Mycroft and I are going to see a movie."

"Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I think you might have shined some light on a few dark areas."

Greg smiled. "No problem."

When John got home, Sherlock was gone. John viewed this as the perfect time to study, make some tea and just focus. No distractions. But John couldn't study. Drunk words are sober thoughts ran round and round in his head and all he could think about was the notebook in Sherlock's room. John mentally kicked himself. He should have read it while he had the chance. 

Sitting there, tapping the desk, John couldn't take it anymore, the curiosity was too much. So he crept down the hall, afraid that if he moved too fast that Sherlock would somehow appear out of thin air and catch him doing something he shouldn't.

John opened the door slowly, his hand was slick on the knob. Peeking his head in he breathed a sigh of relief, the notebook was gone. It was for the best. He shut the door and when he turned he found Sherlock standing at the end of the hall still wearing his coat.

"Bloody hell!" John yelled clutching his heart. "You scared me."

"What were you doing?"

"I thought you were asleep in here. You've been locked in for two days." John was surprised with how easy the lie came off.

"I went to get cigarettes."

"Well good, that's good, it's good to get some air."

Sherlock's eyes raked over John. Elevated heart rate. Sweat forming at the hairline. Shoes removed and shirt wrinkled. John was lying.

"Anyway, are you hungry, I'm hungry. I think I'm going to go get something. Do you want anything?"

"John."

"I'm thinking Chinese, maybe Italian."

"John," Sherlock repeated.

"What?" He asked moving past Sherlock for his shoes. He had to get out of there.

"We are having dinner with my parents."

"What?"

"I said-

"I know what you said."

"Then why ask what again."

"Because it's what people say when they can't believe what you've just said."

"Why is that hard to believe, it's dinner with my family."

"I know what it is. I just didn't think you would want me to meet them."

"What gave you that idea?"

"I've known you for almost 4 months and the only time you have ever mentioned your family is to complain about your brother."

"I wasn't created in a lab. I have a family."

"I am aware you have a family Sherlock, what I was saying is it doesn't seem like you are close with them."

"I'm not."

"Then why go."

"Because we were invited."

"We?"

"Yes, we." 

"They know me?"

"They know of you."

"How?"

"You seem to be forgetting I have a brother."

"I didn't forget, I just didn't think I was a topic of interest."

"You are. Dinner is at tomorrow at eight. We'll be leaving at 7:30, be ready by then."

John opened his mouth to say something, but Sherlock walked to his room leaving John stunned. What just happened?