bright college days

7

Later that day, John came into his room to see Sherlock sitting at his laptop.

"Sherlock! What are you doing?"

"There are errors in your pharmacology paper. I was correcting for you."

John took the laptop out of Sherlock's hands.

"Sherlock, you can't just mess with people's property without asking."

"I... was trying to help you."

John sighed. "And I appreciate that. But you have to ask first."

Sherlock nodded. "All right. Do you still want me to correct you paper?"

"That'd be nice, thanks."

That evening, as John lay in bed, something occurred to him. Getting up, he went into the living room. As he'd seen on many nights, Sherlock was curled up on the couch.

"Sherlock," said John softly.

"Hmm...?"

"You can come in and... and sleep with me if you like."

Sherlock just shook his head and rolled over.

"Okay. Good night."

"No! Forget it!" Sherlock tore out of the room he (occasionally) shared with his brother, heading to the living room.

John buried his face in his textbook, but it was difficult not to overhear.

"You're being childish, Sherlock!"

"Why, because I don't want to go to a wedding? Oh, come on, you barely know Uncle Sherrinford yourself."

Mycroft let out a long-suffering sigh. "So consider it a chance to see Mummy."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Sherlock," said Mycroft in a firm tone, "Go pack."

"I don't see why you care so much, anyway."

"Because Mummy wants you there."

There was a knock on the door. Both brothers turned to glare at it as if it had personally offended them.

"I'll get it," said John. Hopping up, he walked over and opened the door.