Johnlock Oneshots

Great Doctor

Teenager Sherlock and John for the win!!!!

Sherlock's POV
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"Weirdo. Why don't you fight back, you know how to fight, or is the genius just an act?"

The guy who said that was about a foot taller than me and hand three times more muscle mass than I, making it impossible for me to beat him even if I tried.

"Well you see, I'm smart enough not to try because since you've got three times more muscle mass than I myself have, you'd obviously win the fight that would take place." I said quietly.

"Stop using your brain and just do it!" The guy said, well yelled. He shoved me to the ground. I toppled over easily, as I had barely any body weight to throw around. The kid got fed up and did exactly what I presumed he'd do, beat me up. That's what everyone does.

When he'd finished he stomped away. I sat up, leaning against the lockers. I felt a warm substance trickle down my face and I put my hand up up my cheek. Somehow I'd gotten a cut on my left cheek, two inches long and quite deep but not too deep. I sighed.

"What happened to you?"

A voice said from near me. I looked up, seeing that new kid, John I think his name was.

"My brain apparently," I said quietly.

"Oh, you're that Sherlock kid everyone's warned me about." He said, looking on with an unreadable expression.

"Ah, I suppose you'll be another one to hate me." I said, looking away.

"Oh no. I actually think it's pretty cool, what you can do." He said. I turned back, surprised.

"What?"

"I think what you can do is pretty cool."

I blinked. "Hmm. No one's ever told me that."

"Oh, that's sad." John said, walking closer. "Hey, is that a cut on your cheek?"

"What? Oh that. Yeah." I said nonchalantly.

"Looks pretty bad. If you want I'll walk you to the infirmary." He offered. Who was I to turn his offer down?

"Alright." I got up, walking with him to the infirmary.

When we entered, the nurse waved at John.

"Hello John! Come for training?"

I glanced at him, confused. He looked up at me. "Oh, yeah. Mrs. Hart is my mentor, I'm training to become a doctor."

Interesting.

"Um no, actually I brought Sherlock here. He's got a cut on his cheek."

The nurse nodded. "Be my guest dear, use whatever you'd like. I'm looking after another kid, sick during physical education, poor girl." She left.

"Here, follow me." John said. I had no choice but to follow.

He took me into one of the rooms, then began to open drawers and cabinets in search of something. My eyes flickered over him, old habit I'd never broken.

Nice clothes so good financials. Neat trimmed hair so he's a neat person. Straight posture meaning military family. Small hairs on his pants, family pet, not a cat a dog, a small dog.

"What's your dogs name?" I blurted out.

John stood, confused. "What? How'd you know I had a dog."

I smiled. "Hairs on your pants, only at the bottom, the hair structure is different so it's a small dog."

"Wow. That's talent." John remarked.

"Not yet." I smirked. "You're clothes are nice, so you're financial situation is stable, you're hair s neatly trimmed meaning you are a neat person. You're posture is straight and precise so you've got a military family." I nodded. "Talent, I'd like to call it....instinct."

"Wow. You're right about all of it." John said, smiling. He pulled open the last drawer and took out some gauze pads, some disinfectant and some bandages. "Let me fix up that cut."

I let him, not even blinking as he put the disinfectant on the gauze and placed it over the cut. I ignored the sting. He cleaned up the blood, then placed a bandage over it.

"Done."

"You know, you'd be a great doctor," I said, smiling.

"You think so?"

"I know so."