Dorm 221B

Chapter Eight

Sherlock and John were on the train to John's parent's house. Sherlock wasn't really excited, but he supposed there would be some nice memories made here. They sat beside each other at the window, cramped together in the cheapest seats beside one another they could afford.

Between them, their hands were held, while they both tapped out messages on their phones, minding their own business and just enjoying each other's company in peace.

Though, it wasn't really that peaceful. Sherlock could tell John was on-edge. He was snappy, he was being rude and constantly letting out (annoying) sighs. Sherlock knew it was dangerous territory in approaching the subject, but he wanted to reassure himself that it was not caused by himself.

He clicked his phone off and pushed it into his pocket, leaning over to John, so their shoulders squished together.

''Hey, John?'' he whispered amongst the chatter of fellow passengers.

''Mmm?'' John responded, briefly glancing up from his phone before looking down again. Sherlock resisted the urge to read his message.

''Are you okay?'' he asked in a soft voice, treading carefully. ''You seem a little off.''

John looked up. He knew he was kidding no one, especially when it came to Sherlock. He had hoped Sherlock would've assumed it was travel-sickness, but obviously not.

''Oh?'' He tried to keep up his act. ''No, I'm not off. 'm fine.''

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and leaned closer. He squeezed John's hand. ''Please tell me. I could help.''

John sighed and he too put down his phone. ''Sherlock...''

''No. Come on. You always make me talking if you think I'm upset. You're no exception to that. Tell me,'' he licked his lips. ''Did I do something wrong?''

''What? No!'' John quickly said, fixing his posture in his seat. ''No, sorry, no. You haven't done anything to upset me. It's not you.''

Sherlock kept his relief contained, and he continued with a calm expression. ''Then, what is it?''

John sighed again, and a look of complete and genuine anxiousness passed over his features, making Sherlock feel a shoot of concern.

''What's wrong?'' He asked, kissing John's knuckles. 

John looked up to meet Sherlock's gaze. He bit his lip, hand subconsciously tightening around Sherlock's.

''I...'' he cleared his throat. ''I haven't seen my parents since I joined the army.''

Sherlock raised his eyebrow. ''...That's a long time. How come?''

John surprised Sherlock by the appearance of tears in his eyes. Sherlock's eyes flared with worry and he raised one hand to cup John's cheek. ''Tell me.''

''When I...came out as bi to them, they told me not to come back from war.'' John's voice was thick as he spoke and tears slipped down. Sherlock moved himself so he blocked John from other passengers, protecting him. He continued talking in whispers, eyes wider.

 ''...They didn't like that you're attracted to men?''

John shook his head. ''And, now they said they were willing to meet up with me...''

''Why on earth are you bringing me with you?'' Sherlock asked hurriedly, voice slightly raised. 

''I don't know!'' John spluttered. ''Because you're my boyfriend! And-and you're a big part of my life! They should be aware of your existence in it, because you're important.''

Sherlock stared at John silently for a moment, mouth suddenly dry. He cleared his throat and licked his lips. ''Okay,'' he nodded. ''Okay, I can understand that, but what happens if they kick me out of your house?''

''Then I come with you.'' John said determinedly.

''John...'' Sherlock said slowly, shaking his head. ''This is your family...I'm just me.''

''You're not ''just'' anything! Not to me, Sherlock!''

Sherlock shifted in his seat and licked his lips again. ''I wont forgive myself if I worsen your relationship with your parents!''

John tightened his jaw and he looked out his window. ''We're more than half way there. Can't go back now.''

''You shouldn't have kept that from me. John, you should've told me.'' Sherlock shook his head, leaning back in his seat, arms crossed across his chest.

There was a long time were neither talked to the other, pissed off, yes, but also just worrying about each other.

After too long a wait, John leaned over and pecked Sherlock's cheek, before nuzzling into his neck. ''I should have told you, you're right.''

Sherlock gulped and looked down to John. ''I should've been more caring. This is hard for you.'' he answered, wrapping an arm around John.

John smiled and shut his eyes, leaning into Sherlock. Tell him you love him rang through both their heads.

''Thanks, Sherlock.''

''No problem, John.''

Soon, they were tugging two suitcases behind them from the train station.

''It's just down here.'' John said, muscles straining. Wow, I need to start working out again.

Sherlock groaned at the weight of his bags and nodded. ''Nice...' he panted. ''Village here.''

John nodded and turned a corner, a horrible wave of anxiety washing over him. ''Just that house there.'' he nodded to the first house at the edge of the opposite road.

They placed their bags down outside the front door and John looked at Sherlock before knocking on the door.

After a near minute, the door swung open. A small women with mousy-brown hair stepped forward, smiling. ''John!''

It was so false, Sherlock nearly cringed. He watched their stiff hug, and he saw her notice him. 

''John...'' he could hear the worry in her voice. Worry of what? That John is happy with someone? ''Who's this?''

John's words got caught in his throat, and he was honestly terrified of what she would say. So, he panicked. He quickly put some space between himself aand Sherlock. ''My mate!'' he blurted out. ''My friend. Good friend, Sherlock Holmes.''

Sherlock looked to John, but went with it, trying not to feel hurt. He smiled politely at his mother and accepted her awkward hug. 

She shuffled inside, ushering them to follow her. She went out of sight, and Sherlock placed a hand on John's arm.

''What was that?'' he hissed.

''I-I panicked!'' he gasped. ''I'm so sorry. We'll...we'll tell them at dinner, okay?''

Sherlock sighed and nodded. ''Fine, fine, they're your parents.''

John gave him another look to try say sorry, and he stepped in with his bags. Sherlock took a deep breath and followed.