Sherlock & John (A Teenlock Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty Three - Sweaters and Boots

John

He was suspended for two days.

Anderson was suspended for a week, because that was his second fight of the year.

Pickard had been so angry, he didn't pick John up. Instead, he called Emma. Who didn't want to pick him up. So she called Harry.

The school nurse said that John didn't really need to go to the hospital. It was just a scratch. Well, not really. John had his nose broken, and just about ruined his pretty little gray blue eyes.

Anderson, on the other hand, had knocked a tooth loose, and had a broken thumb. "He doesn't know how to throw a fucking right hook," John had mumbled to Harry later.

John waited in the office with ice on his face while his sister talked to the principal. When she came out, Harry bought him a Coke and two bags of Doritos, then hi-fived him. "You're a dodgy little man," she'd joked. "Did you really tackle him?"

"Like rugby, back in Camden," John had responded painfully. "Anderson called Sherlock..."

"What?"

John realized he couldn't remember. It wasn't important, anyway. No one said that to Sherlock. Whatever Anderson said.

"I dunno."

"Heh. He deserved it. Phillip Anderson, right?"

"Right."

"Mom is going to hit the goddamned roof when she sees you. You look like you've just been run over with a bloody truck."

"Not that bad," John whispered, trying not to move his throbbing face.

"That bad," Harry laughed. "Seriously."

Harry was right. When John walked in, his mum was literally incoherent.

"You didn't," his mum said. "You didn't!"

"I did," John said with a smirk. "I did."

"You fought? You aren't a fucking punk, John, God, you think you can just punch people and get away with it-"

"-It was Anderson, mum-"

"I don't fuckin' care, son." Harry tried to calm his mum down, but she shook her off. "You're grounded. Forever."

"Awh, Mummy-"

"Go to your room. I don't want to see you."

Two hours later, Harry brought him a capsule of morphine while he was laying in bed. She said it wasn't going to make him high. Apparently not; it made his head hurt even more and then it took away everything, all at once. He'd never been this high before.

Emma had snuck into John's room while he was sleeping. She'd woken him, and said something about why and how and John had just said, "Myboyfrndd," followed by Emma's wide eyed stare.

"What?"

"My boy... friend. Sher. Lock. Mmkay, Mumsy Wumsy? Fuck. I'm hungry."

"Sherlock?"

"Yep."

"Okay, honey. Okay." And his mum practically ran out of John's room.

God. He'd never been this high before.

Sherlock

When John rang the doorbell, Sherlock heard it, all the way up in his room. He'd been waiting on him for maybe three hours.

And he heard Siger answer. "Hi. Sherlock has my stuff, so um..." John said.

A heavy pause. "Really."